26. Asher
26
ASHER
T he next morning, I walk Baz to his classroom like I do every morning, but something just isn't sitting right with me after last night.
I hate how much responsibility she takes on her shoulders. She isn’t in this alone, but no matter how much I try to convince her of that, she bears the burden. Always.
Baz is one of the lucky ones, and the kid knows it. He knows he’s loved. I haven’t been teaching long, and I only have fifteen kids in my class, but it’s already clear there are kids who are getting their needs met, and then there are the ones who aren’t.
And it pisses me off.
Viv didn’t plan to get pregnant with Baz, but she stepped the fuck up and is an incredible mother.
She may have faults, but the way she loves that kid isn’t one of them.
Ms. Bowen stands instantly to attention when I walk Baz through the door, her smile so bright, it’s blinding. “Well, good morning.” She looks down at Baz. “Are we going to have a much better day today?”
Baz nods once, but he’s not in the greatest mood today, and now that I know what happened with him and the other kid, neither am I.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I ask Ms. Bowen, who looks all too happy to have my attention.
She won’t feel that way in a minute.
She nods her head exuberantly and instructs Baz to go practice writing his name at his desk. She wets her lips with her tongue and tucks her hair behind her ear, looking up at me with curious, hopeful eyes. “What can I do for you today, Mr. Sterling?”
“You can start by keeping your fucking mouth shut when it comes to my nephew.”
Her jaw drops as her gaze widens in shock. “W-what?”
“You heard me. That kid yesterday heard you all talking about Baz’s father being dead, and for whatever reason, decided to tease him about it.”
She clutches her collar. “I swear, I didn’t think anyone was listening. We most certainly weren’t making fun of him for not having a father. We feel awful?—”
I cut her off, but I don’t move any closer to her. I don’t want to lose my job, but I want it to be clear that Colt is off-limits. “Don’t. Don’t feel awful. Just don’t talk about it at all.”
She glances over at Baz, who is happily practicing writing his name and not paying attention to us. “I’m sorry.” She places her hand on my bicep, but the touch feels all wrong. “I’m sure losing your brother was extremely difficult.”
And now she’s back to her little game of seduction, looking at me like a wounded bird. I brush away from her hand. “Don’t talk about it anymore. He has enough to deal with, he doesn’t need some little shithead taunting him because his dad died.” I keep my voice a low growl, but it’s enough to have an impact.
“I won’t. I’m very sorry.”
I nod and then move over to Baz, leaning down. “Have a good day, buddy. I’ll see you at recess, and if anyone says anything about your dad,” I look up at Ms. Bowen, who looks slightly frightened, and then back to Baz with a serious gaze, “you come get me.”
I wanted to tell him to go ahead and punch the little fucker, but I had to stop myself to think about what Colt would want. He would never suggest physical violence, although he was no pussy. Baz nods his head sadly, and I ruffle his hair before going back to my classroom, not bothering with any pleasantries with Ms. Bowen.
When Viv told me what happened, I nearly snapped. How someone’s parent being dead is a subject for taunting, I'll never understand. But I could see the despair in Vivienne’s eyes because she knows it’s only the beginning. And she’s right. All of Baz’s life, he’s going to have to explain that his father died before he ever got to know him.
And it’s not fair.
None of it is fair.
Last night, our conversation pissed me off and then led to the inevitable empty feeling I always feel when I think about Colt. How he’s not fucking here to help raise his kid. He would have stepped up. No doubt. More than likely, he would have tried his best to get Viv to marry him and make them all a family.
Would she have said yes?
I ponder that as I greet my students, all filing in, excited for the day as they leave their backpacks in their cubbies.
The Vivienne I first met probably would have eagerly accepted Colt’s proposal in order to not piss off her worthless parents any further. But the woman now? I’m not so sure.
“Mr. Sterling?” I look down at the little girl in pigtails smiling up at me.
“Yes, Jacee?”
“I practiced writing my name last night. I got the ‘a’ right.”
I smile and walk with her to her desk. “Show me.”
She’s excited as she sits down at her desk and proceeds to write her name without hesitation and with precision.
“Great job! That’s perfect.”
She’s beaming with pride as she moves to the next line to do it again.
I can’t help the pride I feel as I watch.
I taught her that.