21. Sloane
TWENTY-ONE
Sloane
I hold Tyler in my arms, bouncing the chunky six-month-old while making ridiculous baby noises at him. His dimples flash as he giggles, drool bubbling from his gummy smile.
"Who's the cutest little butterball? You are! Yes, you are!"
I glance over at Lennon and Micah digging in the sandbox. Lennon's actually talking, pointing at something they've uncovered. My heart swells seeing him engaged.
Angela emerges from the house, her towel wrapped around her waist and her hair still damp at the ends from the pool.
"Got most of the grape juice off, thank goodness." She reaches for Tyler. "Thanks for baby duty."
"Anytime. This guy's a charmer."
Angela settles into the lounge chair beside me. "So I just met your boss on my way out of the bathroom."
"Pope was inside?" My stomach does a weird flip. "He usually stays holed up in his office when he's here."
"Mmm-hmm." Angela gives me a significant look. "You didn't mention he was such a hottie."
Heat floods my cheeks. "I—well, that's not exactly relevant to childcare."
"Girl, those eyes? That jawline? Very relevant to my interests." She laughs. "Anyway, he said to tell you he had to leave. Seemed in a rush."
Something warm blooms in my chest. He wanted me to know he was leaving. It's such a small thing, but last week he would've just disappeared without a word.
"You okay? You look flushed." Angela smirks.
I press my palms to my cheeks. "It's just hot out here."
"Sure it is." She adjusts Tyler on her hip. "He seems intense."
"He can be. He's got a lot going on." I lower my voice. "Actually, speaking of, Lennon won't be at Seabreeze tomorrow. Pope's taking him to some guardianship meeting in Jacksonville."
Angela leans closer. "I don't want to be nosy, but..." She glances at the boys to make sure they can't hear. "What's the deal? Is Pope a single dad? Guardianship meeting? I’m confused and totally being nosy.”
“I get it. I had the same questions. Lennon's mom passed away recently. Pope is actually Lennon's half-brother. He's the temporary guardian until Lennon's cousin, his mom's first cousin, can adopt him."
Angela's hand flies to her chest. "Oh my god, that's heartbreaking. So Pope just stepped up?"
"Yeah," I say softly. "He did.”
She studies my face for a long moment, then breaks into a knowing smile. "You're smitten with him, aren't you?"
"I—um—what?" I stutter, my face burning hotter than the afternoon sun. "No, that's not—I just?—"
Angela's eyebrows rise higher with each fumbled word.
"Okay, fine." I exhale dramatically. "It's kind of hard not to admire what he's doing. Taking his half-brother in like that. Not to mention, especially when he looks like that. You saw him.”
We both burst into laughter, mine nervous, hers knowing.
"Say no more." Angela winks, bouncing Tyler on her knee. "I get it completely."
I'm grateful she doesn't press further. There's an opening now, though, a crack in my professional facade that might lead to deeper conversations later. For now, I need safer ground.
"So, about Monday's lesson plan," I pivot. "I cannot thank you enough for that syllabus. I was honestly panicking about where to start."
Angela's face lights up. "That's what homeschool moms are for! Supporting each other through curriculum crises."
"It's still wild to me that I'm technically a homeschool teacher now." I shake my head, watching the boys measure something in the sandbox with sticks. "Yesterday's planning session saved my sanity."
"We're going to make this so fun for them." Angela leans forward. "Micah hasn't stopped talking about having a 'learning buddy.' He's already picked out his favorite shells to show Lennon during science time."
My heart squeezes. “Five weeks will fly by, but we'll make them count."
The moment I mention the timeframe, Angela's smile falters. "I keep forgetting Lennon's situation is temporary. I'll miss having another homeschool mom to bounce ideas off."
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," I reassure her. "My big girl job will be ten minutes from your house. I'd love to keep helping with Micah's lessons."
"Really? Even without Lennon?"
"Absolutely. I think I'm going to love doing it. Plus, we can hang out." I glance at Lennon, who's now laughing at something Micah said.
"They're peas in a pod," Angela agrees. "Two little scientists discovering the world. Meeting you two has been such a blessing."
"Speaking of which, I grabbed those marine biology flashcards you mentioned. Target had them on clearance."
Angela gasps dramatically. "Clearance educational materials? Now you're speaking my love language!"
Our conversation flows easily between teaching strategies and ridiculous mom-humor that Angela brings, and I somehow understand, despite not being a parent.
For these moments, I can almost forget that I'm falling for my boss, living in his house, and avoiding thinking about the day I'll have to say goodbye to Lennon.
Almost.
As if on cue, Tyler's face scrunches up, his bottom lip quivering before he lets out a frustrated wail.
Angela checks her phone and sighs. “Eleven-thirty on the dot. You could set your watch to this kid's nap schedule."
"He's consistent, I'll give him that." I reach over to tickle one of Tyler's chubby feet. "Hey, why don't I drop the boys off at Seabreeze? You should get that sweet baby to bed."
"Are you sure? I don't want to burden you with Micah duty."
"It's no burden at all. I'm already going anyway. And they are in heaven, why disturb that?" I wave toward the sandbox where the boys are still engrossed in their archaeological dig.
Angela's shoulders visibly relax. "You're a lifesaver. Seriously. I'll spot you lunch tomorrow, if you're up for it."
"You don't owe me lunch!"
"I'd like to. Gives us an excuse to get together."
When she stands to leave, I rise, too, and we hug like we've been friends for years instead of days. There's something comforting about the easy way we've fallen into friendship. There’s no awkward getting-to-know-you phase, no careful dancing around topics. Just an immediate connection.
"Micah! Come say goodbye to Mom!" I call.
He trudges over, trailing sand everywhere, and Angela bends to kiss his forehead. "Listen to Ms. Sloane, okay? I'll see you after Seabreeze."
"Kay, Mom. Can I bring Bruce Wayne home?" He points to a small container where they've apparently imprisoned another hermit crab. I laugh to myself that is always their go-to name for their critters.
"We'll discuss pet ownership another day, buddy."
As I walk Angela and Tyler to the back deck, a wave of gratitude washes over me. A week ago, I was panicking in my empty apartment, friendless and jobless in a strange city. Now I have a great job, a quasi-family and Angela, my very first "mom friend" even though I'm not a mom.
It's not the social circle I imagined building in Palm Beach, but it's genuine and warm and exactly what I needed.
Angela turns at the door, Tyler's fussing now a constant whine against her shoulder. "There's this great little place near Seabreeze that does amazing salads if you're up for it. I mean it, so let me know."
"I'd love lunch." The words come out more enthusiastically than I intended, but I don't care. Having a friend here makes everything feel less temporary, less precarious.
After seeing them out, I return to the patio and survey my domain: two sandy seven-year-olds and a half-built sand castle.
"You guys ready for lunch?"
"YES!" they shout in perfect unison, dropping their sticks.
"How about I bring it out here? You can eat on the patio."
They respond with cheers and high-fives and return to their city-building. Selfishly, I'm glad to keep the sand outside instead of in the kitchen.
"Be right back."
I usher Micah and Lennon through Seabreeze's entrance, steering them toward their familiar spot under the large banyan tree. My hand rests lightly on Lennon's shoulder. He's still not big on physical contact, but lately he tolerates these brief touches without stiffening.
"Come see the baby turtles!" Micah's voice rises above the ambient chatter of Seabreeze.
Lennon tugs at my sleeve, his eyes wider than I've ever seen them. "Two of them! They're so tiny."
"Can we show Sloane?" Micah bounces on his toes, looking up at the young woman with braided hair, who I recognize as one of the Seabreeze educators.
Ms. Melia nods. "Of course. They're settling in nicely."
The boys grab my hands simultaneously, pulling me toward the covered pavilion with surprising strength.
"Slow down, guys. The turtles aren't going anywhere." I laugh as they practically drag me across the mulched path.
"But they're swimming!" Lennon's voice carries an urgency I rarely hear from him. "You have to see them swim!"
We reach the pavilion where a large tank sits on a low wooden table. Several children are already gathered around, but they make space when we approach.
"Look!" Micah points dramatically to what appears to be two moving pebbles. "That's Rocket and that's Flash!"
I kneel down between them, bringing myself to eye level with the tank. "You already named them?"
"Ms. Melia said we could vote," Lennon explains seriously. "Those names won."
I'm surprised they didn't name them Bruce and Wayne.
I lean closer, finally spotting the baby turtles. Each of them is barely larger than a quarter, paddling through the water.
"See how their shells have those little lines?" Lennon points, his finger carefully not touching the glass. "That's how you know they're red-eared sliders."
"And look at their feet!" Micah adds. "They have tiny claws for digging!"
I rest my elbows on the table, settling in. "They are pretty cute. Tell me more."
Dr. Maya approaches, clipboard in hand, her long braid swinging behind her. "Good afternoon, boys. We're setting up the microscopes now."
They dash off without a backward glance.
"They're doing wonderfully together," Dr. Maya says. "Lennon actually initiated a group discussion yesterday about tide patterns. First time he's volunteered anything."
My body warms with pride. "That's huge. He's been through so much."
"And yet, he's finding his footing. Whatever you're doing at home is working."
If she only knew what I was actually doing at home. Heat creeps up my neck.
"Thanks. I should get going. See you at pickup."
Back in the SUV, I check my phone. Another missed call from Maris. Guilt twists in my stomach. I've been avoiding her texts since the other night.
I don't even know what to say to her. We haven't spoken since Pope and I slept together.
My finger hovers over her name. I can't keep dodging her. She'll know something's wrong.
Sighing, I press call.
"Finally!" Maris answers immediately. "I was starting to worry you'd been kidnapped."
"Sorry, things have been crazy getting Lennon ready for his hearing tomorrow."
Not technically a lie, but definitely not why I've been MIA.
"The custody thing? That came up fast."
"Yeah. I'm not sure if it is the big one, but I know they are meeting with the Guardian ad litem. They're flying to Jacksonville in the morning."
“Are you going?"
I adjust the air conditioning vent, suddenly too warm. "They don't need me there. It's just procedural stuff."
"That's good Pope's feels comfortable handling Lennon by himself," Maris says. "Shows how much he's grown into this guardian role."
"He really has." The image of Pope patiently helping Lennon take apart some stuck Legos flashes in my mind, followed quickly by Pope's hands on my bare skin in the pool. I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the thought away.
"So..." Maris stretches the word out. "Things have calmed down in that department? No more awkward tension with your hot boss?"
"Totally calmed down." My voice rises slightly. "We've gotten into a good rhythm."
It's not lying if I'm just being selective, right? We have found a rhythm, all right. It's just not the professional one Maris is asking about.
"That's good to hear. I know that must have been stressful."
The conversation shifts to her work drama, but I'm barely listening, relieved to be off the hook. When we finally hang up, I sit in the parked car, staring at nothing.
I couldn't wait to end that call. The friend who's been there through everything with me the last two years, my only real connection to my old life, my rock during several meltdowns during exams and career disappointments, and I just lied by omission because I couldn't bear to hear her disappointment.
Because deep down, I know she's right. This thing with Pope is a mistake that's going to blow up spectacularly.
And I have absolutely no intention of stopping it before it does.