Chapter 14
14
brADY
O ne more thing you should know about my family. They never come alone because they think more is better. But when I see Leah, I'm suddenly so incredibly relieved. Why didn't I think of her before? She's a child psychologist, so perfectly suited to care for a traumatized child. How stupid can one be?
"Hey, Brady," she says as she stands at the door. "Orla is waiting with the kids downstairs. She thought I could watch the three of them while you check out the schools."
I hug her, not wanting to let go. "Oh God, Leah. You're heaven-sent."
She laughs. "Some might disagree with that, but I'm happy to help."
When I release her, I turn around. "Kira, are you ready?"
"Yes, don't leave without me," she calls as she comes to the door. She stops when she sees Leah.
Leah bends down a little. "Hey, Kira. I'm so happy to meet you. I'm Leah." She holds out her hand.
Hesitantly, Kira takes it. "Hello."
"Your dad needs to take care of some things you can't be present for, but I thought you'd feel more comfortable if you could still be nearby and we wait outside together. Is that okay with you?"
"Hm."
"We'd be waiting with your cousins. Would you like to meet them?"
"How old are they?"
"Seven and nine."
"Oh."
"Would that be an option for you?"
Kira looks at me questioningly, so I crouch down to her level. "I'm not going away."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Pinky swear?"
I smile before raising my hand and holding out my pinky finger, which is about a hundred times bigger than hers, but she still manages to wrap her little finger around mine.
"I promise I won't go away and I'll always come back."
"Okay."
"Then go get your things."
Leah looks at me as I stand up again. "You're doing well."
I shrug. "I feel like I'm doing everything wrong."
"It takes patience and love. You'll be fine."
"Thank you."
When Kira is ready, we go outside and she takes my hand.
Orla drives a seven-seater, so we can all fit in one car. Aoife and Róisín look curiously at Kira as we open the car door.
"Hey, sweethearts," I say, "this is Kira. Your cousin. Or would you say second cousin?"
Róisín smiles shyly, while Aoife calls out: "Have you watched Just Add Magic yet?"
Orla rolls her eyes. "Maybe say hello first?" Then she smiles at Kira. "Hey, I'm Orla. Leah is my sister and Brady is my cousin."
Kira nods, a bit overwhelmed. "Hello," she says shyly, while staying half-hidden behind me.
"We brought a booster seat for Kira," says Orla.
Gratitude floods through me because I hadn't even thought of that.
Orla smiles. "We should also do a little shopping trip, right?"
I nod. I really have a lot to learn.
Aoife stands up so we can fold the seat to access the back row. Kira buckles herself in. It's really cramped back here, but I don't want to leave her alone. That would seem very jerky of me.
As Orla starts driving, I ask her: "Do you know where you're going?"
"I checked which school district you belong to. It's not far away."
"Okay."
I'll just let her handle it.
When we arrive at the elementary school, the sight is sobering. I was of course aware that I don't live in the best part of town, but this school looks a bit run-down.
"But it has good ratings," says Orla, as if she's aware that I need a pep talk right now.
"I'll be right back," I tell Kira. "Leah will stay with you, and maybe you can talk with Aoife about that TV show. Do you know it?"
" Just Add Magic ?"
"Yes, exactly."
"I've seen it."
"Really?" asks Aoife, turning around. "I've seen it too!"
She stands up so I can get out.
Kira holds onto me. I look at her questioningly. She whispers very quietly: "You'll really come back?"
I kiss the top of her head. "Nothing can stop me."
Orla and I walk slowly toward the school.
"This is just so crazy, Brady. I was awake half the night thinking about it. Whether there's anything that would make me leave my children. And there's nothing voluntary. Absolutely nothing."
"I see it the same way. I hate what she did."
"I called earlier and registered us," she explains as we stand at the door.
"Thanks for your help."
"Of course! Anytime!"
We're greeted by the school secretary, who brings us to a waiting area.
"The principal will be with you shortly," she says kindly.
Orla leans toward me. "So, I read that the school was founded in 1925, but was recently renovated thanks to an anonymous donor, and that it has pretty good ratings. Except for children who need more support, who seem to get forgotten unfortunately. Do you know anything about Kira in that regard?"
"No, nothing at all. She seems bright to me, but of course the situation could have a negative impact."
"We'll see, but we'll do everything we can to make it as easy as possible for her. She already seems very attached to you, which is positive."
"Still, it definitely would have been better to give us a chance to get to know each other first, before Mindy disappears."
Before Orla can respond, a woman approaches us. Only her salt-and-pepper afro reveals that she's over thirty; otherwise she looks young and energetic—basically how you'd want a dedicated teacher to look.
"Mrs. and Mr. O'Brien, nice to meet you." She shakes both our hands. "Please come with me to my office."
After we've taken our seats, she asks, "Did you just move here?"
Orla gives me an expectant look. Okay, now I should act like an adult. Got it.
"No, my cousin," I gesture to Orla, "lives in South San Francisco and I live here in Palo Alto. Until now, my daughter has been living in L.A., but from now on she'll be living with me, so she should go to school here."
"Ah, I understand. We can have her records sent over if you give me the name of her previous school."
I tell her the name that Kira and I painstakingly figured out, since all she knew was that her school was pink.
Then Mrs. Forster explains everything we need to know about the elementary school. She makes a competent impression on me, but it's Orla who asks quite a few questions I wouldn't have even thought of. Further proof that I'm not necessarily qualified for this. But hopefully I'll learn a thing or two.
Then she leads us through the school, showing us the classrooms, the cafeteria, the playground. And even though the building is quite old, it seems to be in pretty good condition, which reassures me. I had googled and found out that normally the school district is determined by where you live, but that there are exceptions. It would be better, of course, if I'm satisfied with what we get. I'll ask Orla about that right away.
"Well, Mr. O'Brien, if there are no further questions, we'll expect Kira on Monday." She hands me some papers. "And here are the class schedule and information about school lunch."
"Thank you very much."
She smiles at us before saying goodbye.
On our way out, I ask Orla what she thinks.
"Well, I wish she could go to our elementary school, which I think very highly of, but I think she could do worse. The school makes a good impression. However, you should definitely consider packing her lunch instead, because there are a lot of unhealthy things on that menu."
"Let's not overwhelm me right away. I have no idea how to cook healthy food for kids."
"But you eat healthy."
"Well, I mostly eat rice with chicken and broccoli."
"Maybe she'll like that too."
"Does Aoife like it?"
She grins. "Absolutely not. Aoife drowns everything in sauce, while Róisín can't have it dry enough."
"See? Man, honestly, I don't know how I'm going to manage this."
"You'll do fine. You don't have to be perfect right from the start. That comes with time and experience and everything. In the beginning, the important thing is just that you don't break her." She laughs.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I remark dryly.
"I was just kidding. I think you'll do much better instinctively than you think."
When I open the door to Orla's car, Kira's head immediately snaps toward me. Relief spreads across her face, and my anger at Mindy rises once again. How can she do this to her? How can she take away her trust in people?
"How was it?" asks Leah.
I shrug. "We found a school."
"Great. I asked Kira and she says she didn't bring many things with her. We should probably go shopping a bit."
She smiles at me encouragingly.
"Would you like that?" I ask my daughter. My daughter! That's something I still need to get used to.
She nods hesitantly, as if she wanted to... No idea. Not be a burden to anyone?
"Yes, shopping!" Aoife calls out.
Orla laughs. "You don't need anything."
"Yes, I need everything!" She grins while her pigtails bounce cheerfully.
I squeeze myself into the back again. "Well then, let's go. Shopping."
I'm not feeling particularly enthusiastic because I hate shopping, but maybe it's different when you're shopping for your child.
MALLORY
The evening with Brady was really nice. Sexy, but also very nice. Which makes it all the more confusing that he hasn't contacted me since. And sure, you don't have to check in every day, especially when you're just getting to know each other. But it still confuses me.
I know, of course, that he's probably using the time to get to know his daughter, that she's his top priority. But it bothers me.
Because I'm not like that.
Tuesday night he said goodbye with the words "I'll be in touch." Is it too much to expect that to actually happen? Should I reach out? Or is he following that stupid rule about not contacting someone for three days?
Why is this so complicated? Or am I just making it complicated? Maybe I need to relax?
"YES!" Carrie and Tina answer when I meet them for dinner that evening.
"So you don't think it means anything?" I ask again.
"Did you text every day before?" Tina asks me while cutting up her salmon.
"Well, to be honest, we only started texting over the weekend, then texted on Sunday, and met on Tuesday."
"Okay, so he hasn't really violated the standard, so to speak?" Carrie asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's weird if you've been texting a guy every day for three weeks and then he doesn't text for three days. But if that wasn't your pattern in the first place, you really don't need to worry."
"Why don't you text him?" Tina suggests.
I look at Carrie, who raises her hands. "I would do it, before you keep wondering."
"Hmm, okay. Then I'll do that."
Tina swallows. "Do it right now."
"But I'm here with you guys now."
Carrie laughs. "You chicken. Come on. Text your hot guy."
"Alright."
She's seen right through me, of course. Because somehow I feel like he should be the one to text me. After all, he said he would.
Did I honestly just think that? Am I still in kindergarten?
Ugh, I don't find that particularly attractive about myself right now.
Alright then. I'm a big girl and I can text a guy I like. I'd love to ask both of them what I should write, but Tina has never really dated since she's been in a relationship since high school, and Carrie would probably suggest that I send him a boob pic. So I'm on my own here.
Mallory
Hey. :-) How are you? Getting along well with Kira? Tuesday was really nice with you and I'm already looking forward to next week.
I might not win a Pulitzer Prize for that, but the message is personal, not pushy, and nice. Right?
"What did you write him?" Tina asks curiously.
I show her the message. She takes the phone out of my hand. "Oh, wow. That profile picture is extremely hot. Wow, Brady is sexy."
"Let me see too!" Carrie grabs the phone. "Damn! That's hitting the jackpot! So incredibly sexy!"
It's not like I don't drool over that picture constantly. "I know."
"Men like this don't exist in real life," Carrie declares. "It's photoshopped!"
"No, he looks like that in person too. Tested for you guys." I laugh.
She gives me back my phone. "I hate you."
"That's completely justified in this case." Laughing, I pocket the phone. "So how's it going with you?"
"Phew, men are a weird species. I don't know why we haven't gone extinct yet." She spears a shrimp. "Not much worth mentioning at the moment."
"I'm so glad I never had to do online dating," Tina says.
"We know," Carrie and I answer in unison.
She laughs. "Okay, so I've mentioned it too often?"
"No, only about three million times," Carrie points out.
"But of course we're happy for you that you're so happy," I add.
"Are we?" Carrie jokes at the same moment Tina says, "Am I?"
I stare at her. "You're not?"
She sighs, brushing the hair from her face. "I don't know. I love Joe, but sometimes I wonder if I've missed out on some things. Like dating, for example. I haven't even kissed anyone else. I've been with Joe, since I was fourteen, and while I wouldn't want to change that, I'm sure a few other experiences wouldn't hurt me."
"What kind of other experiences?" Carrie asks.
"Well, sexual ones," Tina admits before taking a huge sip from her wine glass.
I look around to see if anyone is eavesdropping before leaning in slightly. "You're not satisfied?"
She shrugs. "It's good. I mean, it’s okay."
"That's not a good answer," Carrie says. "While we're on the subject, what do you guys do?"
"Well, the usual."
"So missionary?" she asks.
"Do you still have enough sex?" I ask. Actually, it's none of my business and I would never ask this, but after all, she started the conversation, which means she needs to talk about it, right?
"About once a month, and yes, mostly missionary. Rarely I'm on top, but I don't really like that anyway."
"No doggy?" Carrie asks a little too loudly.
"Shhh," I say when I notice a guy who seems to be listening.
"Sorry," she whispers back.
Tina takes another drink and Carrie refills her glass. "Mostly him on top, sometimes me on top. Nothing more. Since I was fifteen."
"Oh," we both say simultaneously.
"That bad, huh?" Tina asks.
My reflex is to say, no, it's all completely normal, but who am I kidding? It might be normal and right for some couples, but if one partner isn't happy, it's obviously not normal. Not at all.
"Well, basically I don't understand why so many women dislike riding. That's my favorite position," Carrie explains. "And of course it's not bad if that's what you want, but that's obviously not the case, is it?"
"I don't know. For years I thought it was normal, but... I don't even know if I'm into anything else. What I actually like. What I enjoy, because I haven't tried anything. I think I need more wine."
She empties her glass again. Carrie pours the rest of the wine into her glass before signaling to the waiter that we need another bottle.
"Well, you definitely need to tell me why you like riding, Carrie," I explain, because I don't really like it either. "But that's just a side note. Do you guys talk about it?"
I look at Tina.
"No."
"Why not? You trust him, don't you?" I ask.
"Yes, of course, but... I don't know. Maybe I'm just not that open about it. Or I don't want to hurt him. He doesn't have any other experiences besides me either."
"But he must have watched porn before," Carrie interjects. "So he should know there are other things you can do besides missionary."
"Maybe he's just not that open about it either? Maybe he thinks I like it this way?"
She empties her glass again. At that moment, the waiter brings the new bottle. She nods gratefully as he pours her another glass.
"Well, you need to talk about it. Definitely. It's in his interest too that you enjoy having sex with him. That you're happy," I say.
"How should I do that? It would come out of the blue now."
I look at Carrie, as does Tina. "I'm very glad you both think I'm the expert in this field," she notes sarcastically. "But seriously now. You don't have to tell him. How about this: on a quiet evening, put on something nice, or something you feel comfortable in, then go to him and blindfold him."
"But what if he doesn't want to?"
"Then something is fundamentally wrong between you two. What man wouldn't want a hot adventure with his wife?"
Tina takes a sip. "And then? What do I do then?"
"Okay, let's say he's sitting on the couch when you blindfold him. Then you straddle his lap, stroke his shoulders, his arms, take his hands if he hasn't already placed them on your hip or your butt. Otherwise, put them there. Then blow gently against his lips before you kiss him tenderly. Just lips on lips, moving back and forth a little. Then more intensely. Lick his lips, wait until he opens his mouth, let your tongue play briefly with his, pull back again. Keep doing this, nibble on his lips in between, kiss the corner of his mouth. Until you feel like he'll die if you don't kiss him passionately right now. And then you do it. You wrap your arms around his neck, press yourself tightly against him. By now, he should wrap his arms around you too. Have one hand around your waist, the other in your hair. It should get so incredibly hot for both of you that you want to tear each other's clothes off. But you're in the driver's seat, so you slow him down. He'll probably complain a little, but you don't care."
Tina and I stare at Carrie, captivated as she unfolds this incredibly sexy fantasy before us. Wow. I want that too.
"You stroke along his upper body, slide your hands under his sweater, touch his bare skin. Scratch it lightly, caress his nipples. Then you slide back further so you can stroke his crotch. And he better be hard by then, or I'll personally slap Joe." She grins. "Then you open the belt, the zipper, reach inside. Pleasure him with your hand, stroking up and down. Then you stand up, kneel in front of him, open his legs, pull down his pants, which he should help you with. And then you take as much time as you want to pleasure him. Finally, you could whisper in his ear that he should take you from behind. He will certainly not wait and will do it right away. Or—and now we come to you, Mallory—you can give him the ride of his life."
"I'm all ears," I respond eagerly.
"I love riding, but I don't really like it in bed. That's okay too, but I prefer doing it on the couch. I place one knee on the couch, but put the other foot on the floor, so I have much more control, can execute my movements better and can also move up and down faster."
"Stop, stop, stop. So you're not kneeling over him, but basically kneeling with just one leg and standing with the other? Do you get deep enough that way?" I ask.
"Of course. Naturally, it depends on the height of the couch and so on, but you can adjust by going deeper into the knee or whatever."
"Okay. And what do you do then? Just up and down?"
She laughs. "That's actually the most boring thing you can do. I really like it when you circle your hips and vary the depth. And what I also often do is, spell out words with my movements. My name. His name. Other words. That creates variety and no spot inside you stays untouched."
"What do you mean by spelling out words?" Tina asks.
"Well, with your pelvis. Like describing a C with your pelvis first, then an A, an R, and so on."
"Ah, okay. I would never have thought of that," I admit. "But it makes sense to vary it and not always do the same thing."
"And then my signature move , my secret. However, this doesn't work with every man, because there has to be a bit of substance there, if you know what I mean. And some don't like it because it's very intense and doesn't feel pleasant for everyone. Anyway, I slowly go up so far that only the top part is inside me, and then I move down relatively quickly. It feels mega-intense for me, but you shouldn't do it with full force either so you don't hurt him."
I stare at her as if she were a sex guru. Which she is, if we're being honest.
Tina takes another sip of wine. "So okay. Either I whisper in his ear to take me from behind, or I ride him. Whew. I don't know if I can do that."
"What do you have to lose?" I ask her. "He loves you. You love him. He won't say no."
"Hopefully not. Hopefully there's nothing fundamentally broken between us."
"Do you feel like there is?" Carrie asks.
She shrugs. "Not really, but maybe we've just gotten so used to each other that it's routine, even if the other person is actually unhappy."
"No way. He still looks at you like you're a cream cake," I say, remembering that Neil was actually supposed to come. I should text him too.
"I really do love him. Hic." Her eyes are already a little glazed.
Carrie grins. "Okay, someone needs to go home."
"Oh yes. But I had fun with you guys."
"Try it out and tell us how it went," Carrie says before paying the bill, even though it should have been Tina's turn.
"Are you taking her home?" I ask as we stand in front of the restaurant.
"I will. Good night." She smiles at me.
"Good night. And let me know when you get home."
"You too."
Sitting in the car, I remember my phone again. I quickly check if Brady has written back.
Brady
Hey, sorry I haven't gotten back to you. A catastrophe of epic proportions happened here. I'll tell you when we see each other again. When are we seeing each other again? We're still on for Tuesday, right? I'd actually like to see you before then, but I'm afraid I won't be able to make it. Sorry. But you don't need to worry. I still think you're just as great. It's just chaotic right now. X
Hmm. His message is sweet, but somehow... Well, he basically told me he wasn't thinking about me, right? Of course, during a catastrophe of epic proportions that's understandable, but... A few words. A quick I can't talk right now, but I'm thinking of you wouldn't have been too much to ask, would it?
Or should I just relax about it?
Probably.