Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
MATT
“ D id you brush your teeth?” I ask from downstairs.
Daphne appears at the top of the stairs, frowning. “You bought the wrong toothpaste. I don’t like this one.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, drawing an uneven breath.
It’s not yet seven a.m., and the day has gone to hell.
I barely slept. My flower supplier canceled today’s delivery.
And Daphne is being particularly demanding this morning.
Her shirt didn’t feel right, she couldn’t find the daisy backpack she loves, and the scrambled eggs were overcooked.
“What’s wrong with the toothpaste?”
“It tastes bad and hurts my tongue. Dad gets me the strawberry one because it’s sweet. Mint burns my mouth.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay, I’ll buy the one you want after work. Sounds good?”
She gives me a toothy smile. “Yes!”
Shoulders slumping, I rub my beard. Guilt settles firmly in my chest like a brick.
I shouldn’t be this exhausted. I’ve been taking care of my sister since she was born, but having her here with me twenty-four seven is another ball game.
And because I’m functioning on coffee and a couple of hours of broken sleep per night, my patience is running thin.
But then she gives me the biggest, sweetest smile, and I feel like a jerk for letting my temper get the best of me.
I shake out my hair, then twist it into a tight bun. Coffee in hand and jacket thrown over my arm, I open the door. “Daph, ready to go? School starts soon and we don’t want to be late.”
I’m still waiting for her to barrel down the stairs when my phone chimes. I dig it out of my pocket, and when I see the venture firm’s name on the email notification, my heart leaps.
“Dear Mr. Becker,” I mumble, staring down at the device. “We regret to inform you that we are not able to postpone our meeting planned for this week. We’ve been presented with several opportunities and will be moving forward with those that are still in the running for this year. Thank you for…”
I lock my phone and close my eyes.
Fuck. I knew rescheduling was a long shot, but I clung to that thread of hope anyway. Now, it’s well and truly over, and I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna grow my business and pay for my sister’s school.
The noose around my neck tightens uncomfortably.
Daphne runs down the stairs, her backpack slung firmly over her shoulders and her blond hair tied up in pigtails by elastic bands decorated with daisies.
“Hey, Daph,” I croak when she throws her arms around me for a tight hug. Time to put a lid on my worries for now. “You look great. Ready for your first day at your new school?”
Face alight and eyes sparkling, she pulls back, her body vibrating with excitement. “ Yes .”
“That’s a big yes.” I chuckle. “I spoke with your teacher last week. She’s very happy to meet you too. I think you’ll love her. And you’re gonna make so many new friends.”
This is such an important milestone for her, and I’m excited too.
She’s finally getting the help she needs at this new private school.
After two years on her public school’s waiting list for that extra support, I lost my patience.
The change was long overdue, honestly, after the bullying she’s been subjected to.
I had enough of seeing her come home sad and hurt.
Girls can be pretty fucking mean in those early teen years.
I fought long and hard with Mom to get her to agree to move Daphne to that school.
At first, it was “It’s too expensive,” and “Do you really expect me to make the drive all the way there every day?”
She nitpicked everything, every little detail.
Until one night, she broke down in tears in front of me, and we had an honest talk. It wasn’t only about the money or the drive. She didn’t want her daughter to be seen as different. Not “normal,” as if my sister was supposed to conform to some rigid idea instead of defining it for herself.
We went back and forth for hours.
“You’re labeling your sister,” she said. “Shielding her isn’t the solution.”
At the end of the day, we compromised. Dad will handle the drop-offs and pickups, and I’ll pay for the school.
Shit. That tuition fee, though .
The thought alone gives me a headache. It’s not fucking cheap.
But I’d do anything for Daph, and the school is worth every penny.
Sure, bullying can happen anywhere, but our tour of the facility put me at ease.
The robust mechanisms they have to support neurodivergent kids are impressive, and I was instantly relieved when I noted the openness of the teaching staff and the welcoming atmosphere in general.
I toss my jacket and bag onto the back seat and drag myself behind the wheel. I’ll figure it out. I always do.
As I turn the key in the ignition, I throw a glance at my sister. “All fastened?”
With a nod, she slips her headphones into place. “Ready!”
I can’t help but stew in my frustration as I drive away.
Even on Daphne’s first day, Mom couldn’t be bothered to be here. My sister doesn’t notice Mom’s lack of involvement, her disappointment. I hope she never will. At least Dad called this morning to wish her a great day.
Forty minutes later, I pull into a parking spot and touch Daphne’s arm with a soft press. When she looks up, I say, “We’re here.”
She removes her headphones and surveys the bright yellow and orange building in front of us. At the entrance, Ms.Claris, Daphne’s teacher, is welcoming the students who are trickling in with a genuinely cheerful expression.
At the sight of her new school, Daphne bounces around in the back seat, flapping her hands and arms.
I wait while she stims, familiar with her reaction when she gets excited. After a moment, she calms down and peers out the window again.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.
Her mouth tugs down. “Will people make fun of me?”
The question guts me. “Not at all. It’s your first day.”
She pulls on her fingers, one at a time, over and over, the way she does when she’s apprehensive.
“It’s normal to be a little scared,” I say, my tone gentle. “Come on, I’ll take you.”
As we approach the building, hand in hand, Ms.Claris gives us a warm smile.
“Welcome, Daphne,” she says. “I’m Ms.Claris, your new teacher. How do you want us to say hello today?” She points to a sign with drawings of three options: a wave, a high five, or a hug.
Daphne contemplates her choices with a hum. And then, her face lights up. She breaks into a smile, rocking back on her heels. “A high five, please.”
Ms.Claris holds her hand up. “You got it.”
With her lip caught between her teeth, Daph taps her hand.
“You can go inside whenever you’re ready,” her new teacher informs her.
Following Daphne’s repeated requests, Ms.Claris grants me permission to walk my sister to the door of her classroom.
When we get there, she turns to me. “I’ll see you later.”
I open my arms and give her a quick, tight hug. “Have an awesome day.”
She strides in, finds the desk labeled with her name, and settles in with ease.
Patiently waiting for the other children to take their seats, she studies the space, admiring the walls lined with art projects.
At the sight of a drawing of daffodils, her face brightens, and she turns to me, as if to make sure I didn’t miss her significant discovery.
I nod in recognition, but her attention is quickly snagged by a girl with red hair who approaches her desk. After exchanging names and sharing what they’re passionate about, Daph grabs her flower book from her backpack. The other girl’s eyes sparkle as she pulls her chair closer.
My nose stings. Before I get choked up, I turn and stride for the front doors.
“Mr. Becker!” Ms. Claris jogs to me with a paper in her hand. “I forgot to give you this.”
I take it, my gaze immediately catching on the number in bold at the bottom. Twenty-five thousand dollars.
“This is Daphne’s tuition bill for the year. It was due before school started, but if you need some time, we can grant you an extension till the end of the year.”
End of the year.
As in three months.
“Th-thanks.” Gut twisting, I fold the paper and stuff it into my back pocket. “I’ll make sure it’s paid by then.”
Though I have no idea how I’ll get all that money in three months.
And the noose tightens a little more.
By the time I’m back in Pine Falls, it’s almost nine.
I need to get the morning routine down faster. Even if it’s bringing her to school thirty minutes early, it would make a huge difference.
I can’t afford to start work so late, not with the number of arrangements waiting for me every day.
But today was bound to be an ordeal. And I promised I’d drop her off and pick her up all week.
But next week, we’ll have no choice but to utilize the school bus.
Otherwise, I’ll drown. Thank fuck James has opened the store for me since my parents left town and Daph has been with me. He’s been a lifesaver.
“Hey, man,” I say when I step inside.
James is sitting on the stool behind the counter, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he frowns at his computer.
“Hey,” he mumbles distantly.
I stroll over and clap his back, narrowing my eyes to the screen when I catch a glimpse of an Excel sheet. It’s all gibberish to me. “Accounting stuff?”
“Yeah, an issue with a client’s tax return.”
With a hum, I step away and check the list of orders for today. Thirty-seven, and they all need to be done by three p.m. so I can pick Daphne up and make it back to the town hall meeting in time.
I roll my sleeves. It’s gonna be a fucking day.
“Thanks for today, man. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
James glances up for a quick second before returning his focus to the computer. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. It’s a nice place to work, really. With the flowers and the natural light.”
“You can stay as long as you want,” I offer.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, leaning in, brows creased.