30. Anthony
thirty
anthony
“Can you hand me another screw? I must’ve miscounted.”
I reach behind my back, and Nathan lays a drywall screw into my hand. In seconds, I have the last panel of the kitchen installed. With that, the first floor of the house is entirely drywalled. I’ll do the mudding down here before I get started upstairs, but with the main floor finished, I’m feeling good. It would have taken me forever by myself, and with one brother still on the mend, and the other with a stacked social calendar, I enabled the help of some friends.
Sam, Nathan, and Aaron fit me right into their schedules. It helps that all of their women are friends. Pen is having a girls’ hang out at our place while the guys and I work, and I have been thinking about her since the moment I left.
We slept together last weekend, and I swear sleeping next to Penelope Barker was the best sleep I’ve had since I was in the womb. I didn’t toss and turn. Didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and stare at the ceiling. After I took her back to my bed and took her until the early hours of the morning, we were both pretty exhausted and knocked out until the sun came in through the eastern facing windows.
Have we spoken a word about it since?
No.
Have we really had the chance though?
Also no.
After waking up in my arms, and giving me the allotted ten minutes of cuddle time, she had apologetically said she had work to get done for her book, and spent the rest of the weekend bent over her laptop. I’m surprised her computer didn’t start on fire from how fast her fingers moved. I had to remind her to take food breaks.
This week at school has been a little nuts, too. We’re in the last few weeks before Thanksgiving, which means the kids are getting extra antsy. Nate ended up hiring out a floating substitute teacher for the building, giving Penelope a bit of breathing room without me. That has allowed Lucy, Nate, and I to work out the bare bones for our behavior plan. We got a few of River Valley’s teachers, as well as Phyllis, to test run behavior tracking, but for the most part, the Meadow Ridge teachers are still against it.
In the midst of all that, I’ve been trying to get as much done on the house as possible so that I can start doing interior construction during winter break.
On the other hand, the faster I get it done, the less time I have with Pen in our place.
“Quick break before we start upstairs?” Aaron asks, his tools dangling from a belt.
“Uh… No,” I hesitate. “Let’s be done for today. By the time we lug all of this upstairs, it’ll be close to dinner.”
My hyper-focus had no chance to kick in today, which is so out of character, I wonder if I mis-dosed on my medication. All I want to do is go home and see Penelope. Cuddle on the couch. Watch a movie. Order a pizza and sling back a couple of beers. Just be together.
But, I also promised these guys beer and pizza in exchange for manual labor. I place the order, and by the time we move all of the supplies and tools upstairs, it arrives, along with my brother Ian, who just can’t stay away from a project. We sit on the unfinished floor and eat over the boxes like civilized men.
“Gentlemen, this is Ian.”
He grunts in response, then begins a slow walk of the downstairs to scrutinize our work.
“How’s the search for a new principal coming?” Sam asks Nate.
“Not great,” he says with a curt shake of his head. “We’ve had a few applications, but none want to take on the current situation.”
That current situation being “has to be in charge of two staffs and two-hundred-percent of the students, most of which are starting fist fights in the halls due to a clash of behaviors.”
Nate takes a deep breath, then levels us.
“I’m not supposed to pass along this information just yet, but I trust you three to keep it discreet. Rita, Meadow Ridge’s assistant principal, decided that she won’t be returning after her maternity leave.”
My heart shoots into my throat, especially as all eyes drift over to me. In my doubts, the guys are here to support me.
“So, you’re taking the job, right Ant?” Sam asks.
“Excellent!” Aaron echoes, sporting a huge grin. He reaches a hand across the circle and I clap mine against his, even though this is still brand new news to me, news I’m not even sure if I can act on.
Beneath the weight of Nate’s news, I still find myself tensing. There are a lot of pieces to this puzzle: I’d have to switch schools, officially leave the classroom, and take on the authority of actually being the assistant principal instead of just donning the costume for the time being.
“I’m definitely considering it. But what happens next year when you take over again, Nate? AP is your role.”
Now he goes rigid. Last school year, the guys had invited me out for drinks, and Nate had confessed to wanting to be back in the classroom. By the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck and gazing at his shoes instead of at us, I wonder if things have changed.
“I do miss working in the classroom. However, despite the chaos of this year, I’m actually kind of enjoying the role. Especially knowing I don’t have to be here. Financially, I have choices. I could see myself returning to the classroom one day, but I do enjoy being out and about, assisting teachers, watching others teach, and being a helping hand. The behavior management that we’ve been working on is also fascinating, and I…”
Nate shakes his head, which leaves the rest of us stunned.
“I think I could see myself staying. Stepping up to be a principal full-time.”
Something inside of me flickers.
I’ve always invented excuses to not reach out and take what I want, but right now, everyone is giving me the go-ahead green light.
Apply for the AP role. Take the position. We want you here. You do a good job .
“Your behavior framework is exactly the type of initiative we need from the role,” Nate nods. “The board will welcome you with open arms.”
Somehow, it isn’t any of my actual colleagues that persuades me the most.
“Do it, Ant. Sounds like it’s something you’d be good at.”
My brother, with his short, curt nod, is the final affirmation that I need. Something within me buzzes, and for once, it isn’t bees shooting off in every direction. For once, I see an end goal, and a path to take me there.
“How long until you’re out of that thing?” Aaron asks, indicating the sling that has held my brother captive now for weeks. Ian grunts, shaking his head.
“Sore subject,” I supply. “ Someone couldn’t help himself, and reaggravated the injury.”
“Ouch.”
“ Big ouch,” I chuckle, tipping back my beer. “Tell ‘em how you did it.”
Ian sighs, shaking his head before raking his good hand through his long, dark, motorcycle-man hair.
“My neighbor’s roof was leaking. She has no husband, and it was puddling right into her son’s bedroom. Would’ve cost a fortune to patch if she would have called in a company.”
He doesn’t mention to the guys that the aforementioned neighbor’s son is our fire alarm culprit.
“Four more weeks in the saddle.” I clap my brother on his good shoulder, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead in my unfinished living room.