Chapter 15
Wade
I’m a sucker for a good Sunday afternoon with my family.
Always have been.
I love the natural flow from a big, traditional meal to hanging out in the backyard with no pressure from the week clouding your mind.
Mom pushes my niece, Mia, on the swing set. She giggles with her arms out as if she were an airplane.
Lily naps on a homemade quilt stretched across the grass, one hand resting on her stomach. Pregnancy seems to have turned my sister-in-law into one of those people who can sleep anywhere.
Sadie sits beside her, painting her nails bright orange for reasons nobody understands.
Ryan and I toss a football back and forth. He might be my older brother, but I was always the better football player. He’d give you a different answer if you asked him, but no one’s asking.
Rusty, our dog, lies in the shade like the few rounds of fetch we played with him took up all his energy.
And Dad sits in a lawn chair on the side, studying the weekly grocery ads like he only has forty dollars to spend on food this week.
“The market has ground round on sale.”
Nobody responds.
“Thirty-five cents off a pound.”
Still nothing.
Dad shakes his head. “That’s a good deal.”
Ryan catches my throw and immediately fires it back. “You seemed to be pretty cozy at church with Ari Langford.”
Cozy. What a nice word. And what a nice thing to be with Ari.
In our years of friendship, I don’t think we’ve ever touched as much as we did today at church, and I’m not complaining.
In fact, I’m doing the opposite. I’m replaying in my mind how perfectly her tiny body fit against my side on the pew.
The subtle flowery scent from her hair whenever I whispered in her ear.
How good it felt to hold her in my arms. Have we ever hugged before?
Maybe at graduation or something, but it wasn’t like the hug earlier today.
It wasn’t a full-body, bear-hug thing. I need more of that kind of hug in my life. A lot more.
All fake, of course.
Because what’s happening between Ari and me is just a simple negotiation. Nothing more. That’s why I downplay it to my brother.
“We looked cozy because there wasn’t enough space on the bench.” I catch the ball then spin around and laser it back to him. “They really should make those pews longer.”
“I don’t think Ryan was commenting on the length of the church pews.” Sadie doesn’t look up from her nails.
“I was commenting on the fact that you were sitting with a girl—and her family—at church.” Ryan pump fakes but doesn’t throw. “Never seen you do that before.”
“I’ve never seen you sing in a choir before.” Sadie grins.
I return the smile. “I’m branching out.”
Mom glances over from the swing set. “I thought Ari looked lovely.”
Of course she did. My mother has never met a woman she didn't immediately want to adopt for her next daughter-in-law.
“And, Wade”—she gives Mia another push—“I was so proud to see you singing with the choir. You looked so handsome up there.”
“Higher!” Mia squeals.
“You can get three twelve packs of soda for twelve dollars.” Dad shakes his head. “Can you believe that?”
Ryan holds his hands up like he’s ready for my next pass. “Ari’s the one girl around here you haven’t already sunk your teeth into.”
That’s because Ari isn’t on the same level as the other girls.
I point at him with the football. “I hope you don’t mean that literally.”
He laughs. “You tell me.”
“Boys, that’s terrible,” Mom chides.
“That’s true about Ari.” Sadie holds her fingers out in front of her, examining her work. “She’s never been interested in you. How did you finally convince her to date you?”
“Who says we’re dating?” I call as I run a post route. Ryan fires the ball, connecting with me.
Technically, I should tell them we’re dating to bolster the fake-dating rumors, but my family would never really believe it. I don’t date seriously, and they know that. So in this case, keeping them guessing is better for everyone involved.
Sadie finally looks up from her nails. “So if you’re not dating, then you’re just flirting?”
It’s Ryan’s turn to run a route. “He flirts with every woman.”
“Not every woman,” I defend before throwing the ball.
Sadie laughs. “Most women.”
“Some women.”
“Enough women to get a reputation,” Ryan argues. “Yet, somehow, Ari Langford wasn’t on anybody's bingo card.”
“That’s because Ari has common sense,” Sadie teases.
Dad flips a page in the coupon circular. “Chicken breast is on sale too.”
Nobody acknowledges him.
Ryan catches another pass. “So are you going to explain the football game?”
There it is.
I knew we’d get there eventually.
“Can you believe that win?”
Sadie snorts. “Pretty sure Ryan’s talking about the straddling incident.”
“I would say it was more like a straddling accident.”
Lily lifts her head from the quilt. “Wait, how do you straddle somebody on accident?” Apparently, she’s awake.
Ryan nods to Lily. “My wife makes a great point.”
“There are many ways to straddle someone,” I deadpan.
Mom gasps. “Wade Stevenson! M-I-A is here,” she spells out my niece’s name like we need a code system for a four-year-old.
“It was no big deal,” I laugh.
Dad lowers his papers. His eyes settle on me, and the backyard somehow feels different now, heavier than before. “You’re the principal, and you were caught in a compromising situation with a teacher in front of your students. To say it isn’t a big deal is irresponsible and not being a good leader.”
Something in my chest twists, because I know he’s right, but all I hear is the same thing I’ve heard my entire life.
You’re not responsible enough.
You’re not serious enough.
You’re not enough.
“I know, but it really was an accident. There was a bee on Ari and—”
“As principal, you don't get the luxury of excuses.” My dad frowns. “People are looking for reasons to get you fired from this position.”
Mom’s pushes slow. “Marty, accidents happen.”
“He’ll have to explain that to the district when they hear about this.” His words aren’t angry; they fall in the category of disappointed.
Ryan tosses the football back toward me as a peace offering—or at least a distraction. I catch it automatically.
Mom pushes Mia on the swing again.
Sadie goes back to painting her nails.
Dad opens the grocery ad.
The conversation moves on.
But for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that no matter how hard I work, how many hours I put in, or how much I care about that school and the students, some people will always be waiting for me to fail.
And the worst part?
Sometimes I think my dad might be one of them.