My knee is bouncing so hard, trying to keep control of this situation. I have got to remain calm.
“Let me give you a little insight. Josie is a disaster. She’s impulsive, emotional, and hotheaded. Living with her will belike living with a walking tornado. She might be pretty, but she’ll exhaust you.”
Leaning forward to rest one elbow on my knee, I swipe a hand across my mouth. I take a breath and meet his pathetic stare. “What makes you think you know anything about me?” My voice has a slight edge to it, and his head tilts.
A humorless chuckle escapes him. Rather than acknowledging my question, he continues.
“Right after Jay was born, the woman was a basket case. Couldn’t make it through a day without crying or snapping. Tried to blame it on postpartum depression.” He makes air quotes around the last two words, rolling his eyes. “But let’s be honest. She was unstable before. If you ask me, the proverbial apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, what with her mom and all. Think she went to therapy off and on. Clearly that didn’t work.”
Then as if he’s remembered something his head cocks to the side.
“You know she wrote letters to you, right? Have you seen them yet?”
All I do is nod.
“Yeah, she was never really present in our marriage. She was pretty easy to walk away from.”
His words turn my vision scarlet, and I bite out, “You know, I’ve been around that family for just shy of two months. All this time I’ve wondered what kind of man could walk away from a woman like Jo, and kids like Abby and Jay.” My gaze flicks to the framed photo on his desk—a family of smiling faces and coordinated outfits—and then back to the man in front of me.
“But now I get it. You didn’t walk away because she was too much. You walked away because you weren’t enough to handle her.”
His jaw tightens, the smile wiped clean from his face.
From the inner pocket of my jacket, I pull out an envelope and slide it across the desk. “There’s something I need you to look over.”
He eyes it suspiciously but doesn’t touch it.
“What is it?”
“Open it. It’s about Jay.”
Chad flinches—barely, but I catch it.
“You’re not the one in the picture anymore, Chad. You had your chance. In case you need me to spell it out for you, this states you’re relinquishing all parental rights to Jay. You’ve been a piss poor father to him anyway. It’s my time to make up for that. I have serious plans with Jo, Abby, and Jay. “
He doesn’t speak for several seconds. Doesn’t reach for the envelope. Then with slow movements, he opens the flap, slides out the paper, and scans it.
I do him a favor, and grab a pen from his desk, sliding it to him.
He only hesitates for a second before he’s signing on the line, folding it and handing it to me across the desk. Hardly a hesitation for one of the biggest decisions in most parents’ lives. I’m disgusted at the waste of space sitting across from me.
Tucking the paper back into my pocket, I stand. Chad leans back propping his hands behind his head like he just signed any other business deal. He doesn’t stand to shake, and I’m glad. There’s a very real possibility I’d break every bone in his hand.
I pause at the door and glance back at him.
“You know…most people would’ve fought me on this.”
I let my statement hang in the air, watching for a flicker of something. But his face remains impassive.
“But you didn’t. You walked away and gave it all up. And because of that, I get the chance to step up. To be what they need.” I grip the doorknob. “So whatever kind of man that makes you, let me be the first to say thank you. Because I plan to be the exact opposite.”
And then I walk out, not bothering to look back. This is the second successful Jo related business I’ve accomplished this week. Now to get to Jo’s for one more.
School is buzzing with the news about the principal. Word spreads quickly through a town our size, so nothing about this surprises me. It’s like the game of telephone where it starts as the truth but quickly devolves into half-truths and then plain ol’ lies. My lips, on the other hand, have stayed zipped. Yes, it was Tyler who laid the evidence out for the school board, but I don’t want anyone thinking I had a hand in it, if I can help it. As grateful as I am for Tyler’s help there, I’m well liked among my co-workers, and it only takes one wrong person and this could backfire on me.
Plus, I have bigger things to worry about. With my program’s funding cleared, I now have to start the process for town approval of the mural project. Filled to the brim with ideas, I use every second of my planning period mapping out good locations for our first mural. I want it front and center, where everyone who passes can’t help but stare out their window at it. Right as the bell rings for seventh period, my phone lights up with a text.
Tyler
