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I breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s… that’s wonderful.”
The woman I’m speaking to is the headmistress of Tremain Day School, one of the only non-religiously affiliated private schools in the county. My mother wants Leo to attend a Catholic school, of course. To that, I said, “Heck no,” since “hell” would have made her threaten to wash my thirty-five-year-old mouth out with soap.
“I’m so happy to hear you think so. We don’t have many little boys like him.”
I try not to read into that, but I can’t help but think she means little boys of color. Mexican boys. Ocotillo Valley has a high Hispanic population as many towns in Southern California do, but not many of them are in high enough tax brackets to afford tuition to private school when that tuition is almost the same as a year at college. “Well, I know he’s going to be so happy to hear that there’s a spot for him.”
“Yes, as long as our interview goes well –”
My stomach drops.
“Which I have no doubt it will –”
I force a big smile even though I’m walking through the parking lot alone. Headmistress Rockwell strikes me as the type of woman who can sense when someone is smiling through the phone and given my history of “resting bitch face” I have to keep the smiling in check.
“—then we’ll get Leo onboarded and welcome him into the next class at Tremain.”
“Sounds good!” I say.
“I’m going to have my assistant reach out to you and you can pick a time that’s convenient for you and your husband to come in for a chat.”
I laugh, “Yes, yes, that’d be great.”
I don’t correct her on the husband thing. Shit.
“Looking forward to speaking further with you and your husband, Mrs. Delgado.”
I wince again, digging my hand further into my purse. Where are those damn keys? “Yes, you too Headmistress Rockwell.”
She bids me goodbye and hangs up. I drop my purse on the trunk of my car and continue rooting through it, trying to find the keys. Where the hell could they have gone? I hope to God I didn’t leave them in my locker, I always hate when I do –
“These yours?”
A chill runs up my spine. I turn to find Rex standing a few feet away with my key fob in his hand. “Where did you get those?”
“They were on the ground.”
I scan him up and down. He’s wearing… not clothes that Rex Redford wears. A pair of limp khakis and a white button-down, so cheap I can see the circles of his nipples through it.
Isabella Maria Delgado, get your eyes off his nipples.
“Well, thanks,” I say, reaching out to grab the key. “I didn’t hear them hit the ground. So weird…”
Rex pulls it out of my reach. “You haven’t been honest with me.”
I screw my forehead together. There’s a crazed look in his eye. Shit. Did he have a bad reaction to the drugs and somehow escape while no one was looking? Is that why he has this ill-fitting outfit and is acting unhinged? “Were you discharged, Rex?”
“Isabella… tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. Because I don’t. And I’m exhausted. I removed a cucumber from a body cavity today and I’m sad to say it’s not the first time I’ve had to do that. “Now give me my keys.”
I lunge for the keys. Rex jerks them back, spinning away from me.
“Rex! What the hell are you doing!”
“I could ask you the same thing!”
“Do I need to call security? Are you okay?” I ask.
