I wonder if grabbing a book and putting it in front of my crotch is too obvious when I carefully sit down behind my desk instead to hide the predicament Viv left me in. I wave to the principal. “Mrs. Bailey, what brings you by?”
I give her my best grin, and she just shakes her head at me, the older woman not immune to my charm but not easily forgiving of my shit either. “Is this Sebastian’s mother?” She nods toward Viv.
Viv smoothes her hair with her hand, clearly freaked out by almost being caught, but she quickly recovers and reaches her hand out for her. “Yes, hi. I’m Sebastian’s mother. I am so sorry about what happened.”
Mrs. Bailey shakes her head affectionately. “These things happen, but we have to abide by the rules.”
“Absolutely. It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you for understanding and coming to pick him up.”
Mrs. Bailey’s eyes slide over to me as she scopes me out, suspicious, but she doesn’t call me on it. “Alright. We’ll see him tomorrow.”
Viv nods and supplies her brightest smile. “Great. Thank you.”
Mrs. Bailey leaves, and I stand up, still semi-hard, the adrenaline not worn off, but it’s clear Viv’s fire has been doused. “I’m going to get Baz and take him home.”
I nod. “See you guys later.”
And I let her leave because there’s nothing left to say.
Clearly, I'm not doing the best at steering clear of her.
Today was emotional to say the least. I feel like I'm spiraling out of control yet again, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen.
I’m still shocked Baz got into a fight at school and, instead of processing that, I acted out and nearly had sex with Asher in his classroom.
His kindergarten classroom.
What on earth is the matter with me?
Baz wouldn’t tell me what happened all day. Nor would he tell Hayden, Lola, Linc, Penelope, or Ash at dinner. He didn’t want to talk about it.
So, as I tuck him in tonight, I try one last time. Pulling the covers up to his chin, I sweep my hand over his hair and look at his sweet face. “Baz, what happened today, sweetie? Why did you push that other kid?”
He puffs out his bottom lip and huffs, “He said I don’t have a daddy.”
“He what?” I stare at him shocked, my heart sinking.
He looks so upset, and I'm dying inside. “He said teachers were talking about my daddy being dead.” A tear slides down his cheek as he becomes angry again. “And he kept singing this song: ‘Baz’s daddy’s dead’ over and over.”
I feel anger spread through my body, but I try to keep calm. Who knew kids their age could be so cruel? They’re practically babies. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” I brush through his hair affectionately with my fingers. “That was mean and certainly not something to tease you about.”
“He’s a jerk.”
I agree. “We still can’t put our hands on anyone, okay?”
He nods his head. “Okay, Mommy.”
I press a kiss to his temple. “You are very, very loved. And if your father were here today, he would love you with all of us.”
He rolls to his side, taking his superhero comforter with him. “Night, Mommy.”
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
I kiss the back of his head and quietly leave the room, but bump into Asher as I’m closing the door.
“Is he asleep?”
I look up at him, feeling the intensity from the day, of what that kid said to him and all the guilt that goes with it. My eyes fill up with tears as I shake my head and barely croak out the words. “Almost.”
“Viv, what’s wrong?” His hand moves to my shoulder, and I see the caring, disturbed look in his eyes as I cover my face with my hands, wanting to hide.
“No matter what I do, I'm constantly failing him.”
“That’s insane.” He keeps his voice low and pulls me against his body, and I don’t fight it. I let his strong arms envelope me and breathe him in. I feel him guiding me with him as we walk to the next room, which is his, and he pushes the door open.
We walk through the door, and he urges me to sit on his bed. I do, and he sits next to me.
“What’s up, Viv? Why do you think you’re a failure?”
I drop my hands to my sides but don’t look at him. “I got him to tell me what happened.”
“And?”
My throat feels pained as I swallow, knowing this won’t be an easy subject for him. “That kid was teasing him about his father being . . .” The word “dead” feels too harsh when I'm talking to his brother.
Doesn’t matter. He filled in the blank. “What the fuck?”
“I guess the kid heard the teachers,” I glare at him, still annoyed about his flirtation with Baz’s teacher, “probably Ms. Bowen talking about it.”
“Jesus Christ.” He stands up, looking like he wants to punch someone, but he can’t punch a five-year-old. “What the fuck? How is that funny?”
“It’s not.” I fold my arms and try to settle down. “Kids are jerks.”
“No shit.” He sits next to me on the bed again. “That little shit is lucky he’s not in my class.”
That makes me laugh, thinking about how he would certainly punish the kid. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is even worse for you than me.”
“Why does that make you feel like a failure?”
I shrug my shoulders, not sure what Asher and I are at the moment, but still enjoying letting him be someone I can talk to. “He doesn’t have a father.”
“You didn’t kill him.” His tone is ominous.
“Still . . . I’m not ready for all of the conversations and maybe even the issues that arise with him not growing up with a father.”
“He has you, and he has me. He’ll be fine.”
I want to believe that. “I just don’t know if I’ll be enough. There are so many things that he’ll want his father for.”
I see him swallow and think I need to shut the hell up. He lost his brother. “I’ll be there for him, Viv. You know I will.”
I nod my head sadly. “I know, Asher. I just . . . I worry about him. Nonstop.”
I turn my head to look in his eyes, those beautiful, soulful eyes as he nods slowly, his lips taunting me with how good they felt this afternoon.
He brushes the hair out of my face, and I want so desperately to finish what we started today. “I’m not going to let him feel like he’s missing anything. If he wants to know anything about his dad, I'll be there. If he wants advice about girls,” he smirks, and I roll my eyes, “I’ll definitely be there.” He rests his hand over my cheek. “Shaving, erections, how to deal with the pissed-off father of a chick he likes . . . I’m there.”
I smile, knowing he will be. “Thank you. I’m dreading the sex talk already.”
He laughs. “You have time.”
He drops his head, and I see the darkness swirling beneath his surface. “Asher, what are you thinking?”
His lips turn upward deviously. “About whether I’d go to jail for tripping that little fucker when he runs out to recess tomorrow.”