Vice(43)

     



 

"Okay." The knots were almost completely gone now and I realized with no  small sense of relief that my hands had stopped shaking. "Still, you  know how kids can be."

"Yes, I do, which is why I consider it part of my job to teach them to  not be that way just because someone is different from them." She paused  only to wrinkle her nose and say, "I probably could have phrased that  differently."

"No, you're fine. It's fine." I looked at Conway one last time before  pushing off the desk and walking toward the door. "I'll pick him up this  afternoon."

"We'll be right here." She clapped her hands together and raised her  voice. "Okay, everybody! Are we ready for our first ever day of school?"

The door clicked shut behind me, cutting off whatever response the  twenty-odd kids started to give her. I made it all the way through the  elementary school and main building and was halfway across the parking  lot when I realized two things-one, I had no idea where Abraham was.

And two, I was crying.

Not big, weepy, snot-nosed crying. But I was definitely teary.

"Jeannie!" I had about five seconds to process it was Beth calling my  name before she swooped down on me, clucking her tongue and fussing over  me like a mother hen. "Oh, honey. The first day is always the  roughest."

"I have no idea why I'm crying." I took the tissue she all but shoved in  my hand, patting my cheeks dry while waving my other hand in front of  my eyes in an attempt to combat the stubbornly persistent tears. "It's  not like he's going off to war. It's just kindergarten."

"Honey, I wept like a baby every last time I dropped one off. Ben  refused to go with me when it was time for our youngest to start-stashed  a whole box of tissues in my purse and sent me on my way." She pursed  her lips, her gaze sliding past me to some point in the distance.  "Doesn't look as if you're the only one feeling a little emotional this  morning."

"Beth." Abraham pressed a kiss to the top of my head before reaching out  and grabbing a handful of tissues, blowing his nose with a great big  honk of noise. "You might have warned me Dolly was a weeper."

"You're joking." When he simply stared at me, I scrubbed one hand over my face. "Oh, God. I have to go check on her."

"Oh, no, you don't." Beth grabbed my elbow, holding me in place when I  would have started for the school entrance. "I promise you, she's fine.  If you go in there now, you're only going to upset both of you." Patting  my shoulder, she said, "What you need is a good breakfast and a drink."

"Yes, please." I glanced up at Abraham. "Are you coming, too?"

"I never pass up a chance to drink mimosas, especially if I don't have to make them."





CHAPTER TWENTY SIX





When Beth invited us to breakfast, I'd been half suspecting we were  meeting up with a group of other parents, something which would have  required me to smile and be polite and pretend I hadn't shed a few more  tears on the drive to the restaurant. The only reason I wasn't  particularly embarrassed about the emotional breakdown was the fact  Abraham sniffled as he navigated the unusually busy streets to the  steakhouse, which apparently did a special ‘back to school' breakfast  for parents. After he pulled the car in to a space on the side of the  building and killed the engine, he said, "I have so much respect for  people who do that every single year without losing their mind."

"I still don't know why I'm crying." I yanked the visor down, sighing in  frustration when I saw my reflection-splotchy face, red eyes, streaky  mascara. It would take a lot more than the few supplies I had in my  purse to make me look as if I was a put-together adult. "Conway was  perfectly fine. He was busy talking with Dana's son-who shocked the hell  out of me by manning the school desk and being polite on top of it-and  couldn't have given two fucks that I was leaving him there with  strangers."

"I wish Dolly had been as stalwart." He grabbed a few more tissues from  the pack Beth had given us, blowing his nose before balling them in his  fist and turning to glare at me. "She was just chattering away, talking  about giraffes, happy as a lark, and then we got to the classroom and  you'd have thought I was dropping her off at an asylum where she'd have  to spend the rest of her days."

"Oh, God." I couldn't help myself. Something about the way he was  describing the situation had giggles welling up from deep inside. "She  didn't fall to her knees and wail, did she?"         

     



 

"No, but she did wrap herself around my legs so tight I thought she was  going to accidently break a bone or two." He narrowed his eyes, tapping  his fingers on the steering wheel. "I really hope you're not laughing at  me or the situation."

"Not you." I tried to swallow another bout of giggles and failed. "Just  the picture of Dolly crying and begging you not to leave her and poor  Mrs. Sheriff Pete doing her best to get everything under control before  Dolly sets of the other kids in the classroom."

"Again, you're laughing but by the time I managed to pry Dolly off me,  there were another half dozen kids having hysterics. The couple of  parents who came in after me gave me the dirtiest fucking looks  imaginable, as if I'd purposefully tried to start a riot of miniature  sized people." He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back  against the seat. Reaching over, he rested his hand on my knee and  squeezed. "I really wanted to take you back to your house and fuck some  of the stress away but I'm not ashamed to admit I'm not feeling it right  this second."

"So you're not immune to the tears of women." I slid over, resting my  chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. "I'll have to keep that in  mind for the future."

"Very funny." He sighed again before turning to face me, rubbing the tip  of his nose against mine and laughing when I squealed and jerked back.  "Let's go eat breakfast like the other parents, see if I can recover  some of the energy those tears sucked out of me. The tears of women,  especially little ones, are like kryptonite."

"Well, that's okay. I've always thought dating Superman would kind of  suck for the other person." I got out of the car, shrugging in to my  lightweight jacket, using my hip to close the door. Rounding the front  of the car, I waited for Abraham to join me on the sidewalk before  continuing. "Aren't you going to ask why?"

"I was thinking about it." Much like I'd done with Conway, Abraham  tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, smoothing the lines of my  jacket in to place. "Okay, I'm curious. Why would dating Superman suck?"

"He's faster than a speeding bullet." I paused a beat, lifting my brows  and widening my eyes when he stared at me, his expression completely  deadpan. "Come on. Tell me you get it."

"I get it."

"Then why aren't you laughing?"

"Maybe it wasn't funny." Even as he spoke, one corner of his mouth  twitched upward for the briefest of seconds before he repressed it. "Are  we waiting for Beth or going inside?"

"You're trying so hard not to laugh you're gonna wind up hurting  yourself." I poked him in the ribs, snickering when he jerked away.  "Uh-oh. Don't tell me you're ticklish."

"Fine, I won't tell you." Before I could poke him again, he grabbed me  and wrapped me in a bear hug, rocking me from side to side. "By the way,  you owe me big for this morning. I'm thinking costumes. Maybe  handcuffs."

"Well, hell, sounds like y'all are having a better morning than me."  There was enough of a drawl in Beth's laughing comment to keep it from  being snide or sarcastic but my spine still stiffened almost  automatically. Abraham's response was to tighten his grip, as if he had  some psychic inkling I was going to try and pull away. Stopping on the  sidewalk next to us, she used the flat of her hand to shield her eyes  from the sun, studying me for a moment before saying, "I've got a few of  those makeup remover wipes if you want to finish getting rid of the  mascara. Won't do a thing for the red but since about half the parents  in there are going to look the same it won't matter."

"That would be great, thanks." I waited while she dug in her oversized  purse, taking the wipe from her and scrubbing my face ruthlessly until I  was certain there were no traces of makeup left. Balling it up and  shoving it in my pocket, I said, "Better?"

"Honey, if I looked as good after a bout of crying as you do, I'd cry  every minute of every day." She pried me out of Abraham's grip, linking  my arm with hers and half steering, half dragging me to the front door  of the steakhouse. "Now, do you want me to introduce you to a few of the  other parents whose kids are in class with Conway or Dolly or do you  want to get liquored up on cheap champagne and orange juice from  concentrate?"