Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
SAVANNAH
I t had been a long three weeks of bickering, and not just with Nathan. My mother was relentless in wanting me to come home. She wouldn’t let up no matter how many times I said that I didn’t know when I’d be able to visit. It didn’t help that there was no good excuse. It wasn’t like I could tell her I had married into the mafia, and there was a hit on me for work I’d done with the FBI. Nathan still hadn’t been able to reach Cesare. He would’ve gone to see him, but I didn’t want him risking his life heading to Louisiana. It felt like a trap.
At least Nathan and I had finally agreed on the place we wanted Cutter to attend school next year. The school he’d been in back in Italy was for all ages and even had a daycare, so I was able to drop him off to go to work almost from the beginning. But things were different here, and he wasn’t even eligible for kindergarten until he turned five.
“As you can see, we have the very best in everything so our students get the attention they deserve. We keep class sizes at a max of ten students, and we do initial testing to see what type of learning style Cutter excels in. We then marry him up with a class that fits him and tailor the program for his individual needs,” Dean Montgomery said as he let us peek into a classroom in session.
“So, he will be in kindergarten with his peers, still learning what the other kids are, just differently or more if needed,” I asked.
“Precisely. We would place Cutter in a gifted program and adjust how much we assign so he can learn at his pace. He could very well receive classwork from one to three grades higher, but we must be cognizant not to push him past his emotional or social capabilities. It’s not fair to expect that he acts as if he’s eight when he will only be five next year. Plus, if we moved Cutter up in grade level, he would always be the youngest, and intended or not, that could make him feel like an outcast amongst his peers.”
“Agreed, I want him to be able to make friends. He’s had trouble with that so far, and I don’t want him to go through school feeling left out,” I said.
“We don’t want that either. As I said, we will match Cutter with kids who learn the same way and at the same pace so he doesn’t have to hide who he is, how smart he is, or if he is struggling.”
“I like that. Cutter loves languages and picks them up easily,” I said, watching as Cutter walked down the hall, peering into each open doorway he reached.
“We have lots of languages he can choose from. We offer ten in total right now, and he is welcome to take up to two a year.”
“What about security,” Nathan asked, and I excused myself as Cutter slipped into a classroom.
I reached the door and looked inside to find him sitting at a desk, his legs swinging as he listened to the teacher speak. The class had to be grade four or five, and they were all looking at him.
I was about to step inside to grab him before he disrupted the class, but it was too late. The teacher had spotted him.
“Bonjour, je m'appelle Madame Druide. Quel est votre nom,” she asked. My French was rusty, but she’d spoken slow enough that I knew she’d introduced herself and asked for Cutter’s name.
“Je m'appelle Cutter, ravi de faire votre connaissance, Madame Druide.” Cutter sat up straight with his reply. My mouth fell open as Madame Druide’s eyes grew wide. When the hell did he learn French?
Dean Montgomery and Nathan walked up to me, and I put a finger to my lips to keep them from interrupting.
“Tu parlez couramment le fran?ais?”
Cutter shook his head. “Non.”
“What did she say,” Nathan asked.
“She wants to know if he speaks French fluently. He said no.”
Madame Druide walked up to Cutter’s desk and watched him as he slowly wrote down what was on the board.
“You weren’t kidding,” Nathan said, and I shook my head. “Did you teach him to write?”
“Yeah, he wanted to learn, so he started with crayons and moved up to pencils in a blink.”
“Tu êtes ici pour visiter l'école?”
“Oui,” he answered, never taking his eyes off what he was writing.
“Es-tu ici avec tes parents?” Cutter nodded and, like he knew we were there, pointed to the three of us standing just outside the door.
“Cutter, I think we’ve disrupted the class long enough. We need to get going,” I said, walking into the room. “Hi, I’m Cutter’s mom, Savannah.” I held out my hand to Madame Druide, and she shook it, smiling.
“He speaks incredibly well for his age. Where was he taking French?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said, and she blinked at me. Cutter tugged on my hand, and I looked down at him.
“I watched videos on the tablet Dad got me,” he said, and my heart stopped. I looked at Nathan, and he was staring at Cutter, shock written all over his face. That was the first time Cutter had referred to Nathan as Dad.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you for letting Cutter sit in with your class. He’s missed school since we moved here.”
“He is welcome back anytime.” Madame Druide looked down at Cutter. “Au revoir Cutter, ce fut un plaisir de tu rencontrer.”
He grabbed his paper and handed it to me before taking my hand. “Au revoir Madame Druide, merci.”
“I see what you mean,” Dean Montgomery said as we stepped out into the hall. “Since Cutter seems so keen to learn, I have some workbooks that he may find fun that will prepare him for next year.” He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt.
“That would be great,” I said.
“Why don’t you wait in the garden area out front? I’ll bring you all the paperwork to read over.” Dean Montgomery walked away, and the three of us made our way to the front of the school. It was a beautiful location with an old-world feel, but everything was modernized.
“Can I go play on the swings,” Cutter asked when we stepped outside. I nodded.
Nathan seemed to still be in shock, his eyes locked on Cutter. “You okay?”
“Yeah…hell, I’m better than okay. My son just called me Dad.” Nathan’s head slowly turned down, and there was a lightness in his eyes that I’d never seen before. “I’m a dad.”
Smiling. I patted his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it,” I teased.
“I don’t want to get used to it. I want every time Cutter says that word to be like the first time all over again. I never want it to get old.”
“Dad, can you come push me,” Cutter called out. “My feet don’t touch.”
“Twice in ten minutes and needed, you’re on a roll,” I teased as my phone rang. I pulled it out and groaned. “It’s my mother. I’ll take this. You two have fun.”
My mother was the queen of ruining moments. She ruined my first time having sex by showing up at my college dorm room as a surprise. Who shows up at their daughter’s dorm room at nine-thirty on a Friday night for a visit? I never saw Mark again after that night. She ruined my graduation by getting drunk. I missed walking across the stage when my name was called because I was dealing with her.
My mom didn’t have it easy, and I understood that. She had lost my dad when I was young and then married a serial rapist. Their son had turned out the same way and ended up killing our younger sister to shut her up. She didn’t openly admit to knowing what happened, but there was no real shock in her voice when I told her about the charges against my ex-stepfather. Still, it was no excuse to turn your life into a train wreck and, in the process, try to derail mine at every turn.
I hit Accept .
“Mom, I already told you, I don’t know when I can visit,” I said right away.
“It’s not your mom,” came a male voice that I recognized immediately.
“Shawn?”
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s good to hear your voice, Anna.”
My heart jumped in my throat as Nathan looked my way. His eyes darkened, and I knew he heard me say Shawn. Great, just great. I never wanted to speak to my ex-fiancé ever again, so it really shouldn’t have shocked me that my mother would arrange for him to call. It was so typical of her.
“Why are you calling me from my mother’s phone?”
“She’s in the hospital and asked me to call you and let you know that she had a cardiac event.”
“What?” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “And why isn’t the hospital calling me?”
“I’m your mom’s emergency contact. I thought you knew,” he said, and I bit my lip and walked along the path that wrapped around the front like a small track.
“No, no, I didn’t know that. Why would my mother choose you, my ex, over her daughter?” I tried not to sound hurt and betrayed. It shouldn’t be a shock, but this was out of left field.
“Because you’re not around. Anyway, she goes in for surgery tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure you knew in case you wanted to be here.”
I’d done nothing but take care of her after she split from my stepfather. She drank too much. I helped her to bed. She was rude to someone. I apologized. She stole from the local store by accident because she was too out of it to remember. I got her off and paid for the goods. She wanted to get clean. I dropped her off at rehab. This was the biggest slap in the face I’d ever received, and it hurt worse. No matter how much we argued or how angry I was with her, I’d always been there. But now I was the outcast, and my ex was beloved? You had to be fucking kidding me.
“Text me the hospital and the time of her surgery. I’ll be there tomorrow,” I said, and then stomped my foot, wanting to throw my phone in a childish tantrum.
“Mrs. Mikhailov?” I leaped and turned, smoothing down the front of my outfit. “Is there something wrong?” Dean Montgomery was staring at me over his glasses like an old librarian.
“Oh, there was a spider. It crawled over my foot,” I lied, praying the dean hadn’t heard my conversation.
“My wife does the same thing. She is petrified.” I really didn’t care about them one way or the other. “Here are the pamphlets and paperwork to enroll. We look forward to you and Mr. Mikhailov being in touch.”
Nathan and Cutter were on their way over, and I gave the dean a curt smile as he turned to leave.
“You want to tell me what that was really all about,” Nathan asked.
How was it that the sun could be shining, birds singing, and butterflies flitting about, but you could still get a call that made it feel like you were in the middle of a thunderstorm with torrential rain? I glanced up at the school and the zillion cameras, located so close together that I thought they were lights at first.
“Nothing important enough to ruin the rest of our day. Cutter, what did you say you wanted for lunch?”
“Ice cream,” he cheered.
“Ice cream? You really want ice cream? I didn’t think you liked that stuff,” I teased, and Cutter screwed up his adorable little face like something smelled.
“I love ice cream. My favorite is chocolate.”
Nathan gave me the look. It was the look that I was getting to know so well that I was going to have nightmares about his silent stare that commanded we speak about this later.
“We’ll talk when we get back,” I said as Cutter ran ahead to Goran, waiting by the large gates.
He nodded, but I knew I was in for the battle of my life.