11
Charlotte
After a good night’s sleep, my body is calm, and the blaring sirens in my head are silent. Charlie stands at the door, his backpack, jacket and hat on. “Come on, Mom.”
“We’re not running late, Charlie. There’s no rush.”
“I know. But the first one at school gets to choose which basketball to play with at recess and there’s only one good one.”
“There is?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I should speak to Principal Cerqueti about that.”
“That would be awesome. Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, I pick up the car keys and nearly shut the door behind us when I spot Charlie’s lunch bag on the counter. I groan, “Not again.” Rushing back into the kitchen, I grab his bag and toss it to him. “I think I’ll teach you to make your lunch from now on, Charlie.”
“Sure. I’d love to have gummy bears and fruit roll ups every day.”
I shake my head. “Never mind. ”
There are two elementary schools in town and one high school. While I could have enrolled him in either school, I picked this one because it was closer to home, and only a five-minute drive. On warmer days, Charlie and I could walk, but it takes more than thirty minutes and we’re never ready in time for that.
“Charlie,” Anthony calls out from the schoolyard. “I got the ball!”
“Yes!” shouts Charlie and runs toward him. “Bye, Mom!”
“Bye, Charlie.”
I drop my purse and bag on my desk and hang up my coat.
“Ms. Tanner?” I jump at the sound of the soft voice in the distance.
With my hand to my heart, I turn toward the sound. Savannah is sitting on the floor of the meditation center in the corner. “Savannah, what are you doing here? You should be outside until the bell rings.”
“I know,” she says. “But Caro was mean to me, and she made me cry. I came inside because I don’t want the others to see me.”
Dropping next to her on the mat, I sit cross-legged. Thankfully, I’m wearing a long black blouse, black tights and boots instead of a dress. “What happened?”
“Caro told the other girls not to be my friend because I said I didn’t want to go to her stupid party, anyway. ”
I sigh. Caro’s mother asked me to hand out birthday invitations to the students in class, only she didn’t have an invitation for all the girls, only a select few. I have a strict policy that I don’t hand out invitations unless there’s one for everyone. I’ve seen how much it hurts when a student is left out. Caro’s mother must have had Caro do it herself or gone through the supply teacher while I was away.
“I’m sorry Caro didn’t invite you to her party. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she sniffed.
“You are a very smart, caring, and wonderful person, Savannah. And because you’re so special, sometimes it takes a little longer to find the right friends, but trust me, one day you will meet them.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so. I was just like you. Well, maybe not just like you, because I don’t think I had any friends. I was afraid to put myself out there, but you know what?”
“What?”
“I found two amazing people who mean the world to me and are incredibly caring and generous. We’ve been friends for almost twenty years.”
Her eyes bug out. “Wow, Ms. Tanner, that’s a long time. How old are you?”
I frown and tilt my head. “Not that old, Savannah.”
She nods. “Are they your best friends? ”
“Yes. But I have other friends, too. Some I talk to everyday and others not so often, but every time we see each other, we have a great time. You’ll have lots of friends, Savannah. I promise.”
Savannah turns and throws her arms around me. “Thanks, Ms. Tanner. You’re a good friend.”
My throat tightens at her words. Here I was thinking I would lift her spirits when she lifted mine. “So are you.”
The bell rings, and she snatches her arms from my waist when the other kids file inside. Caro looks over at Savannah, who’s smiling, and her eyes narrow. She turns to Sarah next to her and whispers something in her ear. They both giggle and walk away. I want to go over there and shake them both, but I can’t do that. Instead, I ask for everyone’s attention.
“Welcome back, Ms. Tanner,” says Simon.
“Thank you. It’s great to be back. I have an announcement to make before we get started on today’s math lesson.”
The class groans unanimously. Simon’s groan is the loudest, and he sinks lower in his seat.
“I’ve had a nice chat with Savannah this morning,” I say, and the little girl’s eyes widen with fear. “She convinced me to skip math today and play trivia with you all instead. If you answer the questions correctly, I’ll add extra free time at the end of the day, too. ”
The classroom erupts in cheers and fists in the air. Simon turns to Savannah. “What did you say to her? You’re a genius. I want you on my team for Trivia.”
“Me, too,” says Sarah, and Caro glares in her direction.
“I’m making the teams,” I explain, and yes, Simon, you can be on her team.”
“Yesss!”
Savannah blushes and hides a smile with the back of her hand.
“Great, let’s get started.”
*
I’m gathering my things while the students pack their bags for the end of day and put their jackets on in the hallway. Savannah lingers in the doorway with Danielle. She’s new to the school and hasn’t spoken much to the other kids. Savannah’s showing her a picture she drew earlier, and the girl listens intently.
I’m not sure if it’ll turn into one of those genuine friendships I spoke to her about, but it makes me smile that she’s opening herself up after what happened this morning.
Charlie walks into the classroom, his backpack flung over one shoulder. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.”
“Can we stop for ice cream at The Creamery ?”
“Ice cream before dinner?”
“Yeah, Uncle Austin took us last week, and it was so good.”
I’m about to say no when I reconsider it. “All right, Charlie. Let’s do it.”
“For real?”
“Yes. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”
‘Opposite Charlotte’ doesn’t have to be a thing of the past. I enjoyed not always being the responsible one, and if it means Charlie grins like that more often, I owe it to both of us.
Despite it being the end of March, I tighten the scarf around my neck when a stiff breeze hits on the way to the parking lot. “Are you sure you want ice cream? It’s a bit cold out.”
Charlie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s never too cold for ice cream, Mom.”
“Fair enough.”
The dessert shop is only five minutes from the school, as are most things in town. I’ve been to every store, every park, every street, I think. Even if I hadn’t lived here my whole life, I probably would have done all that within the first year. Cedar Brook Falls is not very big at all.
“Hi there, Mrs. Elleroy,” I call out when I see the dress shop owner taking in her sign from outside. She waves back at me. “Hi, Charlotte, dear.”
I close the car door and hold Charlie’s hand as we walk up The Creamery’s mint green steps. “There are twenty-one flavors of ice cream, Mom.”
“Yes, I know, Charlie. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here.”
“Yeah, but did you know that they’ve added a new flavor?”
“Which one’s that?”
“Bubblegum Cherry Soda Blast.”
“Mmm,” I say, holding back a gag. “Yum.”
The mint green motif continues throughout the shop—mint green walls, counters, and even plastic spoons. Of course, when we reach the glass in front of the ice creams, Charlie orders Bubblegum Cherry Soda Blast and I begrudgingly refrain from making him choose something else.
“What can I get for you, Charlotte?” asks Mr. Davis. He’s worked at the sweet shop for as long as I can remember. “Will you have a chocolate chip cookie as usual?”
Charlie looks up at me, licking his ice cream cone, and I’m still feeling rebellious, so I say, “Make it a brownie today, Mr. Davis. ”
The old man’s eyes widen as he turns to pick up the brownie with a wax piece of paper. “You’ve never ordered that before. Did something happen while you were away?”
I smile and pay him for the ice cream cone and brownie. “Yes, Mr. Davis. I had fun.”
He looks at me, and when he sees my grin, he smiles, too. “Oh, well, I’m happy to hear it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davis.”
Charlie and I sit at one of the small, white round tables and chairs. Charlie tells me about his day between licks, and I wipe the ice cream from his mouth with a napkin before he uses the sleeve of his jacket.
“That was so good. Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, Charlie. Let’s get going now.”
I turn to wave goodbye to Mr. Davis. “Thank you. It was nice seeing you today.”
“You, too, Charlotte. Strange how I saw you both in one day. It’s been a while since that’s happened.”
I wonder what Mr. Davis meant by that, as I open the car door for Charlie and wait for him to hop into the passenger seat. I’m still thinking about it when someone steps in front of me, trapping me behind the trunk of the car.
My hand flies to my chest, instinctively.
Jason .
“Hi, Charlotte. ”
I stare at the man in front of me. I don’t know if I would have recognized him if Jane hadn’t warned me. He’s pudgier than he was back in college. His light brown hair is shorter and thinner up top. But those eyes. Those green-blue eyes that I stared into countless days and nights, I would have recognized anywhere.
“Excuse me,” I say, stepping away from him.
“Charlotte, it’s me, Jason.”
“I know who you are.” I pivot to walk past him, but he grabs my arm.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
I ball my hands into fists at my sides and will them to stay down. “Happy to see you?” I sneer. “Are you serious?”
“We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a long time. I thought…” he searches my face.
“You thought wrong.” I stare at his hand, still holding my arm. “Let go of me.”
He does and I step away.
“Wait,” he calls. “I want to talk to you, and to Charlie.”
My son’s name on his lips ignites an explosion in my chest and my voice comes out deeper than it ever has before. “That will never happen,” I seethe.
“You can’t stop me from speaking to my son,” he says, and the words freeze every muscle in my body. Charlie is turning in his seat, but I block his view of Jason when I stand in front of the rear window.
“He’s not your son. You gave up your rights and now need my permission to speak with him, which I do not grant you.”
“Why are you acting like this? It’s not like I would ever hurt you or Charlie.”
I laugh to stop myself from wrapping my fingers along his Adam’s apple and squeezing until he turns purple. “You really believe that you never hurt us? Do you, Jason?”
“Yes. I’ve stayed away and haven’t interfered.”
“Then, why now?”
He looks over my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I notice a crowd has gathered around us. “Can we talk about this back at your place?”
“No.”
“Charlotte, come on. Let’s be adults here.”
“I am. I’m protecting my son, even from his own sperm donor.”
“What the fuck, Char?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I just want to talk to you. I’ll keep coming back until you listen.”
“Try it, Jason, and I’ll have a restraining order placed on you the very next day.”
“Is James still the sheriff in this town? ”
“He sure is.”
He sighs and crosses his arms. “Fine. I won’t approach Charlie, but at least sit down and talk with me.”
“What for?”
“We spent six years together, Char—Charlotte. Can’t you give me five minutes?”
I shake my head. “That’s the problem, Jason. You think I owe you something when you’ve given me nothing? Stay away from me and stay away from Charlie, or you’ll find yourself in a lot of trouble. You got that?”
He glares at me, and I glare back. My chest burns from the inferno roaring inside of me. Jason is nearly six inches taller than me, but I would bet on me knocking him down if he tried to get close to Charlie.
Without another word, I spin on my heel and open the car door. My finger trembles as I press the ignition button and the engine roars to life. It overpowers the shouting in my head.
“Who is that, Mom?” asks Charlie.
My knee bounces as I peel out onto the street.
“Mom?”
I can’t lie to my son, and I can’t form the words to tell him that the man standing five feet away is his father. Not when he’s been miles away his whole life, despite having come back to town before. I don’t know what he wants, but I won’t stand by and let him take it.
“Mom?”
“How about we get some McDonald’s for dinner? What do you say?”
“McDonald’s? Really? Even after ice cream?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes!” Charlie looks out his window, content with the new plans. His hand thumps on his leg as he taps along to a rhythm in his head.
He doesn’t ask about Jason again, but he might. My hands shake on the steering wheel, and I rationalize that my reaction is unreasonable, but I can’t stop my body from wanting to protect my son. Jason hurt me when he left, even though he thought he didn’t. He did. He hurt me more deeply than he can imagine. If he could do that to someone he promised to love forever, what’s stopping him from making those false promises to my son?
After ordering our hamburgers, I drive back home and let Charlie eat his dinner in the living room. While I’m trying to be a good mother and protect my son, everything I’ve done so far today contradicts that—fast food and ice cream being prime examples. But I can’t dismiss the nagging thought.
Is it wrong that I’m keeping Charlie from knowing his father ?
I throw my hair in a ponytail and wash my face as the thought pulses in my head like an infected wound.
I sleep restlessly that night, tossing and turning, debating what to do when finally, I decide: All by myself, without Charlie in the room, I will hear the bastard out. Then I can tell him once and for all to stay the hell away from us.