Chapter 9 The Tea
THE TEA
BECKY
School starts at a crawl. First, we have teacher flex days. We get to choose which three of the five days available to us we want to work. These I like to call Teacher Sweats days. We can get away with most reasonable attire, so I wear sweats.
Next comes Teacher Work days. These are the required days for teachers to come in for classroom prep, lesson prep, and most importantly, PD, or Professional Development.
Finally, the kids arrive. We go from a crawl, to a walk, to a flat out sprint.
Luckily, we are in the Teacher Sweats days because I am still somehow hungover, and word has already spread that Carter was seen at the music event with someone else, and that his car has been seen outside of his parent’s house for the last week.
All of this knowledge and more useless gossip comes from getting coffee in the teacher’s lounge.
I’m glad I get to deal with more of an information trickle effect than the deluge that happens when school is mid-session.
I’m in my room editing my to-do list—also known as avoiding other work—when my principal knocks on the already-open door.
“Knock, knock. You busy?”
Duh. “Hey, Ronnie, what’s up?”
Our principal is named Veronica, but she told the teachers to call her Ronnie when the kids aren’t around because the name Veronica makes her feel like she’s about to get a whoopin.
She’s awesome.
“Hey, is it cool if I come in for a minute to chat?” She’s already making her way into one of the student seats in front of me.
“Yeah, sure.” Shoot shoot dang crap, what did I do wrong?
Anyone who says they don’t get nervous when the principal says they want to talk to them is lying. They’re liars. I’ve been teaching eight years, my third with Ronnie, and I still get the oh-my-God-what-ifs.
Oh my God, what if I’m getting moved to a different class?
Oh my God, what if I’m being moved schools?
Or of course, the worst: Oh my God, what if I’m about to have a surprise parent teacher conference and the principal is going to sit in?
Okay, the worst is being fired, but still.
Ronnie settles in and gives me a look that I cannot decipher. But I don’t like it.
“Yes, ma’am?” You’re staring.
She’s twisting her hands in her lap, tapping her fingers, her foot, fidgeting. “Oh goodness, ok. Well I’ve heard some rumors—”
I interrupt. I do not want to have this conversation. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” My desire to not dwell on my personal life supersedes my need to please. “Um, do we have to talk about those?”
“Oh, of course not, it’s only that—Well—” She takes a deep breath and lays both her hands on her lap and squares her shoulders. “We have a new employee.”
“Okay?” Maybe they’re different rumors.
Another deep breath. “Her name is…Ms. Harrison.” A pause. “She’s Jill’s niece.”
I suppress a shudder. I hope the attitude doesn’t run in the family.
“Her name is Taylor Harrison.”
Hell no. The world wouldn’t be so cruel.
“You may have seen her around town.” The look of pity on her face tells me that, yes, this is the same Taylor.
“Oh, that’s nice. What posi—what job title does Ms. Harrison hold?”
“She will be a Teacher’s Assistant. She starts next week with the other TAs. She was originally assigned to middle school. If you need to swap…?”
She lets the semi-question hang in the air between us, and I don’t grab hold of it. An uncomfortable silence passes between us before I finally tell her, in a moment of actual insanity, “I’m happy to keep things the way they are.” Lying as much to myself as I am to her.
I remind myself that Taylor owed me no loyalty. I’m not going to let my ex-fiance’s poor choices be the reason I’m trash to another woman.
“Yeah, well, that’s good. Please keep me updated on how everything works out.
Well, I’ll be out for the first few weeks.
First, I have a conference, and then, you know, I’m finally taking that amazing trip to Italy!
” Her voice reaches a sing-song note on Italy.
I know she’s been planning this trip for years.
“Sure thing, Ronnie.” I send her off with a stiff smile because what am I going to do with this mess?
I sit and stare at my halfway done bulletin board and question existence and other casual concepts until I finally shake myself out of it and open up my laptop again. Choosing distraction in the form of productivity.
First, I check my email for any other admin updates. Seeing nothing there, I bite the bullet and go into the faculty listing and find her.
Mother loving sonuvabiscuit eater. I try to temper even my internal monologue while in the school to avoid issues. I have the unapologetic mouth of a sailor, except around my students, in school, or around parents.
I stare at her picture and see a completely different woman than the one I met the other day staring at me.
Her makeup is tasteful, her hair is straight, and her clothes are a clean business casual.
She is young, and gorgeous, and I want to absolutely hate her.
I really shouldn’t, but I do. I should. I shouldn’t.
Except that sneer.
I shake it off and look back to the picture. Ugh. So pretty. Not at all average. A tug of despair briefly hooks me before I shake that off too. I am at work. I need to focus on work.
Hoping for something good to lighten this sudden heaviness, I go to check my Wish List and do a quick scan of the items. Twenty items. Ten necessities and ten it-would-be-nice. Nothing purchased.
Of course not.
I open up my bank app to check out what I can spare when I notice Carter’s personal account is far higher than I realized.
I want to investigate, but I worry about what I might find.
I’m already spiraling, and I can’t invite that energy into my classroom.
I put it on my mental calendar to check again later.
I exit out of the app before I confirm what I already know, I’m a broke bitty, and send a quick text.
Me
Wanna have that coffee date?
Paige
Oh thank God, yes. Now?
Me
Yup. See you in 20?
Paige
Yassssss
I love her.
?????
Twenty minutes later, I walk into our local coffee shop, interestingly enough called The Tea, for lunch and, of course, for some of that life giving nectar also known as caffeine in latte form.
Paige messaged me again last night—checking in and asked if I wanted to meet up sometime.
I was honestly worried that Carter was going to be able to keep her during the break up, so I was really excited when she contacted me.
She had messaged me Saturday too, and that’s what apparently led to Carter ending up at our door. He stood on the other side of it for awhile. I know because I sat and listened for his steps. I hated how disappointed I felt when the rumble of his truck started up.
I haven’t seen him in the days since then.
I watch Paige enter from my seat in the back corner because I’m a creep who loves people watching, and I hate having my back face crowds. I see she’s wearing her current charge, Cassian, an adorable three month old baby.
“How is everything with the Brights?”
Paige gives me a look in response, and does a quick check around the shop. “Let me tell you about it in a minute. I need caffeine immediately.”
Intrigued, I nod and watch her go up to the counter. Little Cass is staring into my soul with his giant brown eyes. A part of me—very small, distant part—is shouting I want one, but the events of the last week shut it up rather quickly.
When Paige comes over, she looks at me and spills all the damn tea. Metaphorically. She’s literally drinking coffee. “She’s gone.” She whisper yells, eyes wide.
“Who?” I whisper-yell back.
She looks meaningfully at the happy bundle in her arms.
“Wait, Carri? Noooooo! Where the fuck is gone?” I’m still whisper-yelling. At this point it feels more awkward to stop.
“That’s the thing, we have no idea. Josh messaged me to meet up with him a few weeks ago and asked if I might have any idea where she might be. Word has stayed quiet because she’s been supposedly on maternity leave and then she works out of town anyway.”
Holy shit. This is way better than dwelling on my own drama. Alright, that was a horrible thing to think. Bad Becky—horrible, but true.
“So he’s just what? Still paying for you and continuing life as normal?”
“Sorta. I’m working more hours than before, but he’s cool with Jacob tagging along since he’s such a good kid.” She pauses, as if thinking about it for a second. “Trev is—was being a bear about it, though.”
This is good shit…Bad. Bad shit. “Is he? How so?”
She looks back at me, but switches gears. “It’s nothing. I need to talk to you about you.” Damn.
“I’m fine.” The words fall flat between us. Her open, friendly, concerned face falls for a moment at my blatant lie, and I decide, what the hell, and tell her what’s actually on my mind.
I lean forward in my seat, my hands cradling my coffee for a little bit of comfort.
“Fine, it’s awful. I’m almost thirty, my fiancé—dammit, ex—is an idiot and a cheat.
My sink is leaking, and the ‘plink plink’ sound it makes will actually eventually drive me crazy.
” Deep breath, “My house smells like spilled wine and old pizza. I have a tiny yard full of poop and dogs that are in the kennels all day now that I’m back at work.
My car is old and will likely need something done soon, and I found out I’m about to get a new coworker who I’m pretty sure already sneered at me. ”
“Sneered—”
“Carter showed up on Saturday night.”
At this, she looks sheepish. “Yeah, I did that. I’m so sorry, your messages were all over the place, and he was at my house when I got there and I didn’t know where you two stood.”
“It’s alright, Paige. You didn’t know. I told him to ‘hippity hoppity get off my property,’ after handing him a plastic bag to go pick up the dog poop in the yard.”
Paige snorts into her coffee and nearly spills it. “I can see the whole thing clearly.” She says with a laugh. Then she looks serious again. “Becky, I need to tell you something, and I am so sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”
A sick premonition comes over me, but I nod at her to continue.
“I…saw them. Carter and that woman. I didn’t say anything to you because I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years—”
“No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t…” I pick up my cup and investigate the design for a moment. I already finished drinking it in record time. “I wouldn’t have guessed either.”
Her small hand covers mine over the cup. “Well, I can’t help with much, but I can with at least one of those things.”
She pulls out her phone and scrolls through it for a second.
“Trev said that Carter has been doing almost weekly routine care for your Range Rover over the last two and a half years. He told me to let you know that he would be happy to take over so you don’t need to take it into Billy’s or some other garage in the area. ”
I feel a mixture of relief and trepidation. “Weekly? Will I need to bring it by that often?”
Paige laughs again. She has a warm laugh.
“No, not at all.” She looks at me real closely.
“Carter was a little neurotic about the health of your car. According to Trev, your car will likely survive an apocalypse with the kind of care and attention Carter has always given it. He was over the top. Trev said it’s because…
” she trails off, looking past me for a moment as her eyes lose focus.
I, rudely, snap my fingers. She looks back at me, looking torn. “Trevor says it’s because you were his first real girlfriend.”
“What?” How did I not know this?
“The guy didn’t really, I don’t know, bloom until he was like 22, maybe even 23.
” She looks past me again. “You showed up around when he really started to…shine. He has always been a nice, funny, extremely helpful and charming guy. People liked him, but would walk all over him. The poor guy couldn’t say no.
Girls took advantage of that, but they wouldn’t look twice at him.
He’d never complain when that happened. He was kind of a funny looking dork—”
My body tenses at her words. First in defence because he’s my beautiful Carter, but then reality hits.
I put my mug down and grip her hands to stop her tangent because, do I even really want to know all of this?
So he was boob blind and couldn’t help himself when a pretty little number like her showed him interest? Bullshit.
“What does Trevor think needs done then?”
She gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hands. I move them back to my mug. “He says it only needs fluids topped off every one or two months and other car issues will be checked at those points.”
I sigh in relief, but then something pops into my head.
“I’ve not done a thing with my car other than fill it with gas for years.
” I let my head drop to the table. “I’m going to have to add that to my new budget.
” I’m going to need to make a really strict budget and actually talk to Carter about what the next step looks like.
The house, the rent, the pets, everything.
The thought pokes at one of the bruises on my already obliterated heart.
Paige looks at me sadly, and takes my hand in hers again. “You know I care about you, right? I have your back—we have your back. We know your family doesn’t live nearby, but we do. Please just reach out if you need anything.”