17. Rae
17
RAE
Now
F or as long as I can remember, Riley has always, and I mean always , loved science. Even when she was a toddler, she’d have me doing all kinds of homemade experiments—taping water bottles together so she could have a handheld tornado, mixing together hydrogen peroxide, yeast, and dish detergent to make elephant toothpaste, and buying every slime kit known to man. The first time I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, her answer was a mad scientist, and even though she dropped the ‘mad’ part somewhere between ages six and seven, her answer has stayed the same over the years.
As a dancer and born creative, I haven’t always understood her interest, but I’ve made a commitment to supporting it, to showing her that I don’t care if she never wears a pair of pointe shoes—which she hasn’t—as long as she’s doing what makes her happy. Science makes her happy.
Or at least it did.
“Ri, what’s going on?” Dee asks through the phone. “You’ve been looking forward to the science fair all month.”
I glance at Riley through the mirror of my vanity. She’s sprawled out on the foot of my bed with the phone in her hand and a full-blown pout on her face. It’s been there all week, and I’m not sure where it came from or what to do to get rid of it. When I tried to get the answer out of her, she said she didn’t want to talk about it with me, so I had her pick someone from her list of trusted adults—which is basically just me, Dee, and sometimes Jayla—to discuss her feelings with. Unsurprisingly, she chose Dee and agreed to let me stay in the room while they talked. I was hopeful my best friend would be able to help her get her feelings sorted before we had to leave the house, but they’ve been on the phone for thirty minutes, and Riley has given her nothing.
“Are you worried about speaking to the judges?” I ask, risking being kicked out of the room for butting into the conversation. “Because I think you’re going to do great. You practiced several times, and you have your note cards if you forget what you’re going to say.”
Riley glances at me and shakes her head. I breathe a sigh of relief and turn around, more confident about contributing to the conversation now.
“Y’all do know this is a phone call, right?” Dee asks. “You actually have to use your voices if you want me to be able to respond.”
I encourage Riley to vocalize her answer with a lift of my brows. She sits up and hops off the bed, walking across the room to take a seat in my lap. Even though she’s getting too tall for it, I cradle her in my arms like a baby and kiss the top of her head.
“She said she’s not worried about the talking part, Dee.”
The silence on the other end of the line tells me my best friend is at just as much a loss as I am, which makes me feel a little less shitty about not knowing how to help.
“Well, that’s good,” Dee says eventually. “Because you’re an excellent orator, aren’t you, Ri?”
Riley nods, and I jostle her around, hoping to free a smile from her. “Then let’s hear you say it, Nugget.”
“I’m an excellent orator,” she says, her tone still flat even though there’s a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
“And you’re going to blow those judges away, aren’t you?” Dee asks, going full-blown motivational speaker. Riley already knows the drill when her auntie gets like this, and she falls in line like a good soldier.
“I’m going to blow the judges away,” she repeats, and I can practically hear the eye roll she wants to deploy alongside the words she clearly doesn’t want to be saying right now.
The door of our bedroom opens, and Aaron appears. “It’s six o’clock.”
“Alright, Nugs, we have to go.” I tap Riley’s hip, and she slides off my lap. “Dee, I’ll call you and let you know how it goes.”
“Okay. Love you guys!”
“Love you too,” Riley and I say together before I end the call.
Tucking my phone into my purse, I take Riley’s hand and give her a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Nugget, and I respect your choice not to discuss it with me, but I just want to remind you that things only have as much power as you give them. You can decide, right here, right now, not to give any more of your energy to whatever it is that you’re worried about.”
She stares at me with walls up behind those brown eyes I have no idea how to penetrate. I’m acutely aware of Aaron’s presence lingering in the doorway and find myself wondering if right now is one of those moments where I could create space for Aaron in my dynamic with Riley. Ever since he told me he’s felt like I’ve kept him on the outside of things, I’ve been trying to find a moment to show him that I don’t want it to be that way anymore, but he’s been so busy at work, and I’ve been so caught up in navigating co-parenting with Hunter and figuring out my next steps in New Haven, that we haven’t had many chances to turn the desires we voiced in our heart to heart into action.
Maybe now is my chance.
“Isn’t that right, Aaron?” I ask with forced enthusiasm because the integration feels unnatural to me. When nothing but silence follows my question, I glance over my shoulder and find him on his phone. “Isn’t that right , Aaron ?”
He jolts, wild eyes flying to my face as he lowers his phone to his side. “Yeah, that’s right, Ri.”
Riley’s brows dip low, expressing just how unimpressed she is with his response, and now that I’ve seen her and Hunter make that same face side by side, I can’t see her do it without thinking about how very similar she is to her dad and how much she’s loved having him around. She even invited him to the science fair, and he promised he’d be in attendance. He called me three different times this week to confirm the time and the address, so I know he’s going to come through for her. Maybe he’ll be able to put a smile on her face.
“Alright, let’s go. We don’t want to keep your dad waiting.”
Just like the first time Hunter was mentioned in our home, Aaron looks confused. He steps back, allowing Riley and I space to pass through the door.
“Hunter’s coming?” he asks as we walk down the steps toward the front door.
“Yes, I told you that.”
A knot starts to form in the pit of my stomach in the time it takes him to respond. I don’t want to argue with him tonight, but if his silence means anything other than he’s so happy that Riley’s dad is choosing to be an active part of her life that he’s actually speechless, then I can pretty much guarantee that’s what’s going to happen.
He waits until Riley is in the car to respond, offering me the excuse over the roof of the car. “I guess I forgot.”
“Or maybe you were too busy on your phone to retain the information.”
“You know things are hectic at work, Rae.”
“Yes, Aaron, I know, but I also know that we don’t have a chance in hell of having the kind of partnership you said you wanted if you’re tuning me out when I’m trying to talk to you about things that matter.”
He scrubs a hand down his face and nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
“Okay, and hey—” I call out just as he’s about to open his door. “I know this whole thing with Hunter isn’t easy for you, but the only way we’ll figure out how to make it work is if we keep talking to and leaning on each other.”
Once again, he nods, and because we don’t have time to continue to flesh this out, I accept the small gesture and choose to move on. The ride to Riley’s school is only about fifteen minutes long, but I was hoping that in that time, she’d find something to be excited about. Unfortunately, she gets out of the car and leads Aaron and me to the gym with the same forlorn look on her face. I’m at a complete loss, but I know there’s nothing I can do but give her the space to work through her feelings, so I follow along quietly, keeping my eyes peeled for Hunter.
I spot him in the middle of the gym, his large framed squeezed in between the small tables where the kids have set up their exhibits. Riley and I came in earlier this afternoon and got her table ready, so we wouldn’t have to lug everything in tonight, and Hunter looks to be admiring our handiwork.
“Daddy!” Riley shouts, the first real smile I’ve seen all day taking over her face as she dashes over to him with her arms wide open.
There are over a dozen fathers in the building tonight, but somehow, Hunter knows that he’s the one being addressed. I marvel at that fact as he turns just in time to catch Riley up in his arms, wondering how he’s grown so attuned to her voice so quickly. I guess it’s a thing parents can just do because I have the skill, too. We can be in a store, separated by aisles, people, and shopping carts, and I’ll still be able to distinguish Riley’s voice from every other child’s.
Certain that Riley is fine, I reach for Aaron’s hand, intending to present a united front when we approach Hunter, but come up empty. I turn around and see him standing right outside the gym door with his phone to his ear. Irritation rushes through me, pulling my face into a scowl that I don’t hide or minimize when I catch his eye. To his credit, he does look apologetic, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ before stepping out of sight, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like everything I just said to him before we left the house doesn’t matter.
Determined not to let the night be further impacted by Aaron’s job, I make my way across the gym to Hunter and Riley, noting almost instantly how animated she is while she’s talking to him. I should be used to it by now; in the weeks since they met, I’ve seen her like this with him every time they’re together in person or on FaceTime after school. He brings out a side of her that people only get to see when she feels safe with them, which makes me think it’s time to add another name to Riley’s list of trusted adults.
My suspicion is quickly confirmed when I finally make it to them and see Riley pointing her finger in the direction of a little boy a few tables over who has a group of other kids around his display. All of them are looking at my kid with varying, but no less unfriendly, expressions on their faces.
“Ri, who’s that kid?” I ask, placing a hand over hers to stop her from pointing.
Hunter, who was just crouched down to Riley’s level, stands, his face a picture of grim determination as he says. “Her bully.”
“Bully?” I balk, incredulity coursing through me as I look at Riley for confirmation. I’m equal parts angry and sad. Angry because I want to end the little fucker who has the nerve to be mean to my little girl, and sad because she chose to share that information with Hunter instead of me. I make a mental note to ask him how he got her to tell him. Then, I school my features into a mask of calm and bury my feelings so I can focus on hers. “You have a bully?”
“Yeah, his name is Pierre, and he said that I have a boy name.”
“She told him it was unisex,” Hunter adds. “But then he started picking on her for saying ‘sex,’ and now every time he and his friends see her, they call her Unisex Riley.”
I pull a face. Unisex Riley? That’s not even a good insult. These private school kids wouldn’t make it a day in the public schools Dee and I grew up in. Hunter gives me a look that says he agrees with my internal thoughts, and I bite back a laugh because while we both know the taunt is trash, we’re still pissed that the words have hurt our kid.
“They said I was going to do my science fair presentation on sex,” Riley says, pouting. “I told them my project was a water filtration system, but they just ignored me.”
Tears spring in her eyes and the last thread of Hunter’s sanity snaps. I watch it happen in real-time, and my heart starts to pound at the same time something I shouldn’t be feeling and won’t name unfurls low in my stomach.
“Come on, Ri,” Hunter says, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him. While I wasn’t invited on this little side quest, I still follow them, damn near hitting a sprint to try and keep up.
“Hunter, you can’t threaten a bunch of kids in the middle of a science fair,” I hiss, throwing fake smiles in the direction of every concerned parent and teacher that is watching our processional.
“Relax, Rae. I’m not going to threaten any kids.”
I wish that made me feel better, but as we arrive at the table where Pierre and his minions are standing, my heart is in my throat, and I’m mentally running through other school options for Riley once Hunter gets us kicked out of here.
“Which one of you is Pierre,” Hunter asks, his voice a refined growl.
Every boy at the table steps back, leaving only one kid face-to-face with Hunter. He’s a tiny little thing, shorter than Riley by at least two inches and thin. His translucent skin tinges with red when Hunter hones in on him, and when Hunter drops down to his level, he steps back, bumping into his table and nearly knocking the foam pipe and duct tape marble roller coaster off.
Hunter tilts his head in Riley’s direction, eyes still focused on Pierre. “You know her?”
Quick as a flash, Pierre glances at Riley and then back at Hunter. “Yes, sir.”
“Ah, you have manners. That’s good to know. I didn’t think that was the case once my daughter told me you’d been making fun of her name.”Hunter looks at Riley, who’s standing there with a satisfied glint in her eyes as she watches her dad take up for her. “What is it he calls you, Ri?”
“Unisex Riley.”
Hunter swings his head back around, lifting a brow. “Is that true, Pierre?” The boy shakes his head, and Hunter laughs. “Oh, so now you’re calling my kid a liar?”
“N—n—n—no, sir,” Pierre stutters, and I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
With a wave of his hand, Hunter dismisses the question. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter, Pierre. The only thing that matters is your answer to my next question, so tell me when you’re ready to hear it.”
Pierre looks to me for help, but I remain stone-faced, feeling very little sympathy for the little brat who stole my baby’s joy for a week.
“I’m ready, sir.”
“Does your dad know how to fight?”
It takes everything in me to keep my jaw hinged. What the hell kind of question is that to ask a kid?
Pierre swallows hard. “Umm, yes?”
“You don’t sound certain, Pierre, and I want you to be certain. Does your dad know how to fight?”
“ Yes,” Pierre repeats, this time with more confidence.
“Do you think he could beat me?”
Every ounce of confidence Pierre just found leaves his body in an instant as he sweeps wide eyes over Hunter.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to find out?” Pierre presses his lips together and shakes his head, unable to lend his voice to his response. Hunter nods like he anticipated that answer. “I didn’t think so, but I can promise you, Pierre, that the next time my daughter comes to me and says you or any of your little friends are being mean to her, we’re going to find out.”
“You would beat my dad up?”
“Your dad. Your uncles. Your grandpas.” Hunter ticks each person off on his fingers, intentionally using his left hand because the skeletal bones outlining each digit help drive home how deathly serious he is. “Any man who was supposed to teach you that there’s more to being a good person than knowing how to say ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ will have to see me, and then when you’re old enough, you’ll have to see me too.”
The boy’s eyes bulge out of his head, the rims turning red like he’s trying to hold back tears. I step forward, placing a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. He glances at me, and we both ignore the jolt of electricity moving between my palm and his body.
“I think he’s got the point, Hunter.” To confirm, we both look at Pierre, who is nodding and definitely fighting back tears. Satisfied, Hunter stands and looks at Riley, who is beaming at him.
“Got anything else to add, Nugget?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.”
He holds out his fist and she bumps it with her own. “Alright then, let’s go win a science fair.”