Chapter 13
Kayla
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Kids are back in sch-
Oops hit the send button too soon.
Kids are back in school. Stop speeding fuckers.
“And then he threw the ball, and it went so far that the gym teacher said we could just leave it where it landed.” Ben talks animatedly, spaghetti sauce covering his cheeks and making a mess. Maybe I should have gone with an Alfredo sauce—less staining.
Colt watches his son talk, listening to the story with the attention Ben deserves. “So you had fun with Mr. Reese?” He asks his son while handing him a sheet of paper towel. We lock gazes for a moment, eyes laughing at the messy little boy.
“Uh-huh. I’m so excited for Friday,” Ben says, practically bouncing in his seat at the table in the breakfast nook. Apparently, this is where they normally eat. The dining room is only for fancy events.
“What’s happening on Friday, Ben?” I ask, pulling his chair closer to the table.
“He’s coming back! Remember? He said I’ll see you on Friday.” He even drops his voice a couple of octaves to mimic Tanner’s voice.
“Oh,” my eyes widen. I try not to let my shock show, but I’m surprised that Ben even heard that.
I had told the kids to go get water from the outdoor water fountain before coming back to the field to line up after gym.
I hadn’t thought any of the kids would have been able to hear me.
“I’m sorry, Ben. We don’t have gym on Friday, remember? ”
“But then why do you get to see Mr. Reese?”
This kid is a snitch, man.
I wasn’t planning on telling Colter about the date. I don’t know why. I guess a part of me feels guilty, even though I know there’s no reason to be. Sure, I’m living with Colt, but that doesn’t mean we’re anything more than friends.
Actually, I don’t even know if we’re friends. If anything, I’m just his tenant. I’m just being delusional, thinking my dating life would ever matter to him.
“Well, sometimes adults get to see each other outside of school,” I explain gently, keeping my eyes on Ben, so that I don’t have to see Colt’s reaction and be disappointed when it’s not the one I want.
“Where are you going? Can I go with you?”
“Mr. Reese and I are going to try one of the restaurants in town since I’ve never been to one.”
“So can I come?”
“You know what, if you see Mr. Reese in the hallways, you can ask him.” It’s a cop out, since I know Tanner isn’t coming back to the school.
He came today to show the kids some football tricks, but he’s going to be working for the rest of the week.
Ben won’t get the chance to ask him, and hopefully, he won’t ask me again.
“Okay!”
“Ben, are you done eating?” Colt asks, voice all gruff and raspy. He no longer sounds interested in listening to his son talk. Instead, he sounds like the old Colter. Angry and upset.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to go for a ride before your bath?”
“Can I ride Saturn?”
“No, Bud. You have your own horse, and he would be really sad if you didn’t ride him.”
“But I don’t like Batman,” Ben pouts, crossing his arms across his chest like his father does when he’s angry. “He bit me.”
“Ben, we talked about this. He’s just a baby. He’s learning. He didn’t mean to bite you, he just didn’t know where the carrot ended.”
“Fine,” Ben sighs. “But if he bites me again, I’m biting him back.”
“Okay,” Colt nods seriously, not at all fazed by his son’s threat. “Why don’t you go get out of your school clothes, and then you and I can head out?”
“Okay.” Scooching back from the table, he runs off, little feet thumping against the hardwood floor, all the way up the stairs and to his room, where he slams the door.
“Ouch,” I wince at the sound. My flat chuckle and attempt to lighten the mood fail miserably.
“Leave the dishes. I’ll clean when we’re back.” Colt tells me, standing from the table without even glancing in my direction.
“I can do them,” I insist, already reaching for the empty bowl to my right.
“No. Just leave them,” he snaps, still not looking at me. Alrighty then.
“Fine.”
“Good.” He leaves his bowl on the table, stomping his way out of the kitchen, just as loud as his son. It takes all of my willpower to leave his and Ben’s dishes on the table. I at least take mine to the kitchen sink and let them soak.
Taking advantage of the suddenly quiet house, I grab my tote bag that’s loaded with assignments to mark and bring it outside to the porch. I’ve been wanting to try out this porch swing bed since I first saw it. I’ve never seen anything like it before.
There’s a gentle breeze today, but the sun is still shining, and it’s the perfect temperature to sit outside. We haven’t quite reached the muggy, warm temperatures yet. Instead, we’re sitting firmly in spring weather.
Unfortunately, as much as sitting outside and powering through my marking in the warm weather is a nice idea, I’m quickly interrupted. I guess one of the disadvantages of living on a working ranch is that there’s always somebody hanging around.
“Kayla! Hi!” Mandy calls, bounding up the front steps. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, how are you?”
“I’m great, thanks! I’d heard you had moved in with Colter.”
“Yeah, we’re giving it a test run,” I hesitate, unsure of whether she’s okay with me living with her son or not.
I mean, Ben is really only over every other night, but it’s still his house, and it might be a little weird having his teacher living with him.
“Is that okay with you and Sylvie? I’m so sorry, I really should have checked beforehand. ”
“Whoa, no! It’s alright,” Mandy chuckles, plopping down in one of the chairs on the other side of the swing.
“Seriously, I trust Colt to do what’s best for our son.
It’s part of why Sylvie and I agreed to ask him to be the father.
We could have gone with a donor, but I think we all knew it was better for Ben to have a strong father figure in his life, and who better than Colt? ”
I think she means for the question to be rhetorical, so I just nod along to her ramblings. I will admit, their whole dynamic is so interesting to see in action. It’s amazing how they successfully co-parent and handle Ben’s questions about why he has more parents than other kids. It’s cool to watch.
“I don’t know how much Colt has told you, but me and him grew up together.
He’s always been my best friend, from the moment I could walk.
And then I went to Oregon to go to university, and I met this one girl who I grew close to.
She was horrible. A real bitch. Made me feel like I couldn’t be myself.
I came home during the summer of my second year feeling like the world was against me.
Colt called me out on how shitty I was acting.
Told me I needed to figure out who I was without everyone else’s opinion weighing me down. ”
“That’s good advice,” I offer. I don’t know how we got into this conversation, or how it got so heavy, but I’m not about to shut her down when she feels like opening up. “I’m sorry you had such a shitty experience moving away from home.”
“I’m not. I never did end up going back to Oregon, and it was the best decision I ever made. I met Sylvie that August, when she came to visit her Aunt Sue.”
“Sue is Sylvie’s aunt?” I ask, unable to stop myself from interrupting.
“Great aunt, technically. Don’t hold it against her.”
“I kinda like Sue,” I confess, leaning in like I’m sharing a secret. The porch swing sways with the motion. “She’s kitschy.”
“That’s a good word to describe her,” Mandy laughs.
“You know,” Mandy says, leaning back in her chair and propping one bare foot up on the porch railing, “I think part of why this whole thing works so well is because we never tried to force something that wasn’t there.
We’re all partners—co-pilots, I guess you could say. We’re in sync when it comes to Ben.”
I nod, letting the words settle. “It’s really admirable, how you all make it work.”
She grins. “It’s not always perfect. But it’s honest. We’ve all had to grow a little to get to where we are today.”
Before I can respond, the sound of another car crunching over gravel draws both our heads toward the driveway. A second later, a silver Subaru pulls in, and out hops a tall, sharply dressed woman with a buzzcut, aviators, and a canvas tote over one shoulder.
“Speak of the devil,” Mandy says, standing. “Sylvie!”
“Don’t worry,” Sylvie calls as she climbs the steps, “I come bearing wine and not a single tofu taco in sight.”
She leans over to kiss Mandy hello, then turns to me with an easy smile. “Hi, Kayla.” While Sylvie and I have met briefly during tutoring sessions, she is definitely the parent I know the least out of the three.
“Hey Sylvie,” I give a half-assed, awkward wave from my nest, still surrounded by papers and pink pens. Pink ink doesn’t scream failure like red ink does.
Mandy chuckles, grabbing the wine from her wife. She places it in the heel of her shoe and bangs it against the post of the porch. The cork slowly slides its way out, giving her enough to grab and pull. It’s pretty fucking badass. “Kayla was just saying she likes Sue.”
Sylvie snorts. “I think everyone likes Sue deep down. That woman once mailed me a hand-knitted pair of toe socks and a list of acceptable baby names that sound strong on the playground. I wasn’t even pregnant yet.”
“She’s kind of a legend,” I admit. “I mean, a tech-savvy town crier? Impressive.”
“I don’t know about tech-savvy,” Mandy giggles. “She doesn’t even know how to use the apostrophe button on her phone. But she sure does keep things interesting around here.” I’m passed the bottle of wine, and I only hesitate for a short second before drinking directly out of the bottle.