Who was this guy? Certainly not the kid I used to know. I wasn't sure how to respond. I had never really gotten that excited over curtains. Okay!
That was better, but it still needs a little work. I've got to do some educating. I'll call you later to set up a time.
I didn't know what to say, so I let that be the final communication.
In a daze, I walked into the office staring at my phone.
"More fan mail?" Avery interrupted my thoughts.
It took me a second to realize she had said something. "Huh?"
Avery tipped her pretty head to the side. "You all right?"
I threw my phone back in my purse. "Right as rain."
"I almost believe you. And if I'm not mistaken, you seem happy. I thought you would be a big pile of goo after sending Cody to school."
"I'm faking it until I make it." I gave her a semi-real grin.
"I know that routine."
"How did you do sending off the boys this morning?"
"Me? I threw a party. Your nephews aren't going to be happy until they knock down a wall or burn the house to the ground. I love those boys, but I miss my girl." Her voice cracked. "Next week it will be two years."
"I know." I met her at her desk where we embraced.
"She would have started middle school this year." Her tears landed on my shoulder. "When we went back-to-school shopping, I almost bought a pink backpack with hearts on it. Remember how much she loved hearts?"
"I do. I kept the notes she wrote me on the paper hearts she loved to cut out."
"I feel terrible for ever getting frustrated with her for leaving paper scraps everywhere. What I wouldn't give to have her paper fill the house."
I hugged her tighter. "She knew how loved she was."
"Why does life have to be so damn unfair?"
"That's a good question."
"I don't think this ache will ever go away."
"I don't know that it's meant to. How could it? Those creatures are a part of us."
"I don't think James understands that. Or he's better at hiding his grief than me."
"Men can joke all day long that they're glad they don't have to give birth, but if they really knew how amazing it was to give life, they would jump at the chance. We are connected to our children in a unique way. Not that men don't have value, well, at least some men, but I think deep down they know they are missing out on something wonderful."
"I'm not sure about that, given James's reaction in the delivery room, but I just wished he would talk about it more, or let me talk and not say anything. Sometimes all I need from him is to hold me."
"Have you told him?"
"I have, and sometimes he listens, but it only lasts for a day or so. Don't get me wrong. I love James. He's good man, but he's . . ."
"A man?"
She cried and laughed all at the same time. "You totally get me."
"I think that Y chromosome affects their brains. It takes whatever we say and translates it into a whole other language . . . or to whatever they want to hear."
"I think you're onto something, sister." She gently pulled away and wiped her eyes. I handed her a tissue from my purse. I always kept some handy.
"I'm here if you need to talk."
She nodded and took her seat back at her desk. "Oh, before I forget, speaking of dumb things your brother says, he thinks you and Reed were flirting Sunday night at dinner." She laughed and blew her nose at the same time, though I wasn't sure how that was possible.
I froze and tried not to make direct eye contact with her. "Why would he think such a ridiculous thing?"
Her shoulders twitched. "He said you looked cozy talking to each other, and he noticed Reed walked you out to your car."
"He was leaving at the same time," I stuttered.
"That's what I said. I mean, you babysat the kid."
"Exactly." Why was my voice high-pitched?
"I told James he was crazy, and you would likely date someone older than you who was more settled in life."
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Or not at all."
She gave me a big smile. "Oh, give it a while, hot mama. You'll have some irresistible debonair professor or something knocking on your door."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Not to say that Reed kid isn't a fine specimen, but he's totally not your type."
"Definitely not. I better get to work if we all want to get paid this week."
"Don't let me keep you. School fees were killer this year, and mama needs a new pair of shoes."
I waved and walked off, suddenly feeling deceitful. Why didn't I tell her that Reed called me, or that I agreed to go curtain shopping with him? I was going to have to cancel that. I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. I mean, Reed and me? What a preposterous idea.
Chapter Seventeen
The high school smelled like teen spirit. Or was that the lunches they tried to pass off as real food? One thing that penetrated the air was the perfume and cologne kids doused themselves in. While I appreciated the effort to hide body odor, my eyes burned when some of them came to purchase football tickets from me outside the lunch room Friday afternoon during their lunch period. I had yet to see my son in the noisy, smelly crowd. Not like he needed a ticket, but I hoped he would at least say hi. Some of his friends had. I had heard too many "Mrs. Higgins's" already, but I didn't have the heart or time to correct them. I had a steady stream of students wanting to purchase tickets since it was cheaper to buy them before the game.
I observed the interactions between the students and thanked my lucky stars that at least I wasn't a teen girl. In their eyes and posture, I could see the way they compared themselves and how uncomfortable they were. I wanted to hug them all and tell them it would be okay. But then, like a lightning strike, I realized it didn't change much as we got older. Maybe we were on different playgrounds, but our self-scrutinizing and comparing ourselves to others doesn't change with age. In fact, it may get worse. Especially with social media. I know I had played into it. Not that there wasn't something to be said for putting our best foot forward, but if we weren't able to ever admit life wasn't perfect or that it plain sucked from time to time, how could we ever get help and move on?
These last several days of communicating with women from all over the world made me realize how valuable honesty was. To know you aren't alone. I wanted to shout out to the girls hugging the brick wall or staring at their phone trying to be invisible that they weren't alone. But, instead, I found myself not alone.
Reed threw himself into the empty chair next to me. The other mom that was scheduled to help sell tickets had a sick child at home and couldn't make it. At first he didn't say anything. He went right to work taking cash and handing out tickets. Though he did give me an evil sort of grin.
I felt guilty and had hoped to avoid him. You see, I had been ignoring his texts for the last couple of days after I reneged on my curtain shopping promise. He hadn't let me forget. He sent me texts like, Are you going to keep me hanging like the nonexistent curtains at my place? Do you know what one curtain panel said to the other? Me neither, because I don't have any.
There were more, and each time, they gave me a good laugh and tempted me to respond, but if James thought there was something going on between us because we talked at dinner, what would everyone think if we were seen out in public together, alone? That was the last thing I needed.
You know what else I didn't need? To be attracted to the way he smelled. Even worse was the physiological response I had to him when our arms brushed each other. What was that? Did my heart rate increase, or was this the first sign of perimenopause? For as cold as they kept the school, I was feeling warm. It had to be out of embarrassment. It had nothing to do with the man I used to babysit, who was sitting next to me in a suit, ready for game day. So what if he looked nothing like that boy? He sure didn't smell like him.
I focused on my task at hand, only stopping to say hi to Cody, who looked reluctant to approach the ticket table. Okay, so he went to his coach's side and acknowledged my presence with a quick "hello." For Reed, he had fist bumps and smiles. Was he embarrassed I was wearing a jersey with his name and number on it? All the moms on the team had bought the official black Pomona Panthers jersey.
My sigh must have been too loud watching my son walk off. Did I mention he was with that girl, Rory, real name Aurora? She had come over earlier and introduced herself to me in her too short cheerleading outfit. "Hi, Mrs. Higgins. I love your son," she'd said.