They must have read the confusion on my face, so Brooke decided to take pity on me.“Chloe is with Dom McEvoy, he’s the head bartender and one of the brewery owners.There are five brothers altogether over there.However, she’s pregnant, and it’s been a pretty brutal pregnancy so far.So she’s missed quite a few yoga classes.”
I nodded in understanding.“Hopefully she’s due soon?”
Justine made a sad face.“Not until mid-July.So she has a couple more months.”
The last woman I recognized but hadn’t shaken hands with yet stood there with an eager look in her eyes.I focused my attention on her and held out my hand.
“I’m Jordana Pedersen,” she said, her gray eyes lighting up.She was very pretty with twin French braids down her back.“My daughters are Georgia and Penelope, and I work at the Town Center Grocery Store.”
I shook her hand and nodded.“Yes, I recognize you from the meeting on Sunday.It’s lovely to meet all of you and put faces to the parents of the children I’m growing very fond of.”
“Oh, and the kids areveryfond of you,” Vica said.“Griffin thinks you are the butterfly’s elbows.”
“The bee’s knees,” Justine quietly corrected.
Vica nodded.“That too.Talks about you all the time.I think Wyatt might be a little jealous.”
“Just trying to make a good impression and teach the students that a principal isn’t someone they should fear.I’m on their side.I’m another adult in their life that they can trust.”
All the women—Naomi included—released sighs of relief, their shoulders dropping away from their ears.
“Such a refreshing take,” Brooke said.“The last guy in your position should have been pushed off a boat in the middle of the Puget Sound.”
Naomi and the other three women gaped at her, but only for a second.
“What?”Brooke asked with a shrug.“I’m allowed to say that.Now, I’mnotsomeone who deserved to get pushed off a boat into the middle of the Puget Sound, even though it happened to me.”
“Dark humor is a form of trauma recovery, I suppose …” Justine muttered.
Oh, it most definitely was.I only said about a third of the weird shit that popped into my head regarding my own traumatic past.The rest my therapist advised me to either write down—and then burn—or just not say out loud because people might think I was unhinged.
“Anyway …” Jordana said, shaking her head but smiling, “I’d say it was a mighty successful first week at the school.Happy kids mean happy parents, and my kids are definitely happy that their principal doesn’t yell at them for laughing.”
Naomi’s head bobbed vigorously beside me.“Amen to that.Otto was a monster.A rabid raccoon would have been an improvement over him.”
Everyone snorted.
“I’d like to think I’m at least half a step up from a rabid raccoon,” I said.“I’m certainly not afraid of water.”
I had the women chuckling, but eventually, they said their goodbyes—besides Naomi—and headed back out to the lobby.
I hadn’t even realized it, but Naomi and I were the only two people left in the studio now.Even Lotus had left, probably to see the rest of the guests out.
With our mats tucked under our arms, we silently, awkwardly made our way to the now-open double doors.She glanced at me and smiled shyly.“Are you sure your cheek is okay?”
“You don’t have any rings on, or long, pointy nails, so I doubt there’ll even be a bruise.And if there is, I’ll tell the kids I walked into a tree branch or something.”
Her lashes fluttered as she smiled sweetly.“Where’d you learn to Hacky Sack so well?Austin has been gushing about your ‘mad skills’ all week.”
I lifted one shoulder before sliding into my flip-flops.She did the same.“I was in foster care from age thirteen to eighteen.My two foster brothers, one the same age as me and one two years older, were big into Hacky Sack.We used to go outside in the driveway for hours and practice.It’s a nice way to shut your brain off.”
I could see her doing some mental math in her head, and I was sure she was trying to figure out how old I was and when I had my kid.I didn’t lie to my students when they asked me how old my daughter was—however, I was grateful that they didn’t ask me how oldIwas.That was something I would have lied about, and I really hated lying.
“I’m sorry you were in foster care,” she finally said.We waved goodbye to Lotus and headed out into the warm May sun.The last remaining dewdrops of the night before clung to all the grass blades and wildflowers sprouting up around the yurt, and as the sun hit them, everything began to sparkle.
“You know what?I’m not.It was a much better situation that the one I was in, and my foster family was incredibly kind.I’m still very close with all of them.It was the best solution to a really crappy problem.”My inner dark passenger—as my therapist called him—laughed.
Way to downplay what really happened there, bro.Crappy problem?It was a bit more than that.Thirteen years of neglect.Seven years of sexual assault.Attempted murder.But sure, let’s go with “crappy problem.”
