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Owen’s gaze holds mine before he rests his cheek on top of Grady’s head. “We will be addressing that later, Say. But you’re right. For now, I need an update on my little man.”
So I fill him in. About the ice. And the stitches. And the x-rays. I tell him about how brave Grady is. How sweet. And Owen listens to every word before the doctor interrupts us with Grady’s release papers.
Then we all pile into an Uber since that’s how Owen got here and head to his house.
As we pull up the driveway, Owen thanks the driver, then turns to me. “Will you come inside?”
“I, uh….”
“Please?” Grady begs, still sandwiched between his father and me. “Dad bought some Butterbeer before the trip. Maybe we can watch Harry Potter or something?”
My heart melts as I take in his damn puppy dog eyes.
With a hesitant nod, I slide out of the back seat. “Whatever you say, Grady. Let’s go.”
28
Owen
Grady’s asleep within five minutes after insisting he snuggle between Say and me for the movie. Gotta give the boy props for twisting Say’s arm, though. I could see it in her eyes. Her need to run away. It was the same look that she had right before she disappeared to the bathroom at the banquet, only to never return to our table.
I glance over at her before stretching my arms along the back of the couch to massage her neck. Rolling her head forward, she sighs softly.
“That feels good,” she whispers with her eyes closed.
“You’ve had a long day. Thank you, again, for being there for Grady.”
“I’ll always be there for Grady. For as long as he wants me.”
“I may have pieced that together from your conversation today,” I admit as Hermoine and Ron flicker on the screen in the otherwise dim room.
With a sad smile, she turns and kisses the inside of my wrist. “So when were you going to tell me that you won’t be returning to Granite Elementary anymore?”
“I wasn’t hiding it from you, Saylor. It just hadn’t come up.”
“Liar,” she argues, that same sad smile nearly breaking me.
Carefully, I lift Grady’s head from my lap and offer my hand to her. “Can we go talk in the kitchen or something?”
As if my hand is a rabid dog, she eyes it warily before taking it. Our bare feet pad across the hardwood floor, echoing off the walls as her silence eats at my lower gut.
I need to fix this.
The glasses are above the dishwasher in the renovated kitchen, and I reach for one. Filling it with ice water, I give it to her without a word and watch as she takes a sip while avoiding my gaze.
My palm is rough against my face as I rub it from my forehead to my chin before diving right in. “Wells was at the restaurant that we went to with Grady a couple of weeks ago. He saw us together and made a comment about interoffice relationships.”
“It’s allowed––”
“If you’re a teacher. If you’re a vice-principal, that's a different story,” I clarify before rounding the island to take a seat next to her on a barstool. Her long legs swing back and forth on the swivel chair as her trimmed fingernails clink against the outside of her glass.
“What are you saying?” she whispers.
I lift her chin and force her to look up at me. “I’m saying that Wells didn’t like the idea of you dating a possible subordinate, and I didn’t want to ruin your shot at getting the promotion. So, I quit.”
Her silence speaks volumes as she lifts her glass and takes another quick sip. “Okay, then.”
“Okay?” I ask.
