The Better Half(22)
“Enough about me, how’s the start of school?” Leo still sounds rushed, but at least his jiggling phone has settled.
“No fiascos to report yet. On the home front, though, red alert. Xandra saw us sucking face in the driveway the night you met her.” Talking about Xandra is good neutral territory.
“Really? I don’t remember that.”
“Meeting Xandra or that toe-curling kiss?” Leo’s hearty laugh relaxes us both. “It was right before you met her. You had me pushed up against the driver’s side of your car, and I’m afraid she caught more than the PG moments. My skirt may have been hiked up to where no child wants to see on their mother.”
“HA! Seriously? That’s kind of funny, but I believe it. She’s just now getting around to telling you? Why didn’t she call us out on it that night?” I see a leggy young woman in a pencil skirt walk behind Leo, pausing to rest her hand on his shoulder. Is that Sloan?
I’ve been wondering why Xandra didn’t mention the kiss since Graham brought it up, but I don’t want to deconstruct my mothering angst on our first real phone call since Leo left. “Teenage girls prefer for their mothers to suffer endlessly and without a clue. Xandra didn’t tell me, but she sure didn’t hold back telling her father. Apparently now she’s acting out at school, and I don’t know if her ranting around campus is for a real reason or because she saw us and feels like she can’t talk to me about it.” As it’s coming out of my mouth, I’m wondering if this would have been a conversation better saved for Marisol, but now I’m in it with Leo, and I hope to hell he’s not going to judge me for it. So much for keeping it light and loose while he’s overseas.
“I’m sure it’s no big deal. She can’t be surprised that her beautiful mother has a man who can’t keep his hands off her.” Finally the compliment, but Leo’s input is a typical man-with-no-kids answer. Xandra has never seen me with a man other than her father, and ours certainly was not an amorous relationship in the final years. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it is a big deal. The guilt of putting Xandra through a strained divorce and now the confusion of seeing her mother with another man rouses tears all over again.
The pencil skirt is back in the screen, giving Leo his second warning it’s time to go. “Crap. I have less time than I thought. Can I call you in an hour or two when I’m over my work scramble for the day?”
“Sure, can’t wait,” I say, forcing a smile, hoping to leave on a good note after laying the latest teen trauma on Leo’s sweaty shoulders. I want to believe I’ll be able to stay awake to see if Leo actually calls back, but I know I’ll be fast asleep. I’m left with little comfort coming to Leo with issues about Xandra. It’s not fair for me to expect sage advice from Leo, so from now on I’ll be sure to keep the kid talk between me and someone who actually has them.
EIGHT
Hey, Mimi. Is Jared here yet?” The energy bar I gulped down in three bites between the library and my office hasn’t kicked in. With my adrenaline running high, I’m ravenous all the time. I was hopeful my appetite would shrink by the first of October as I comfortably settled into the role of person in charge who supposedly knows what the fuck she’s doing. So far, no such luck; a few weeks into school and my impostor syndrome continues to flare when I shake hands with students coming through the main gate greeting me with, “Good morning, Ms. Clarke.” I smile back and wish them a beautiful day and think to myself, How did I get here and why do these families trust me with their child’s future?! What awaits in my office is another aspect of my new job: supporting young teachers settling into their first teaching gig.
“He’s been in your office for a handful of minutes. Not sure how he got out of his classroom and up here so fast,” Mimi says, nodding at the clock hanging on the wall. October is the month students start to cross over from enthusiasm for a new school year into the grind of a month straight with no federal holidays. Jared’s request to meet must be important, his lunch break started barely three minutes ago. Before I head into my office, I check my texts and voice mail. No response from Leo after sending him two texts when I woke up this morning asking him to give me a ring before he goes to bed.
I blow out a sigh of disappointment before turning on the charm. “Nice to see you, Jared. I’m glad we were able to find a time to meet so quickly,” I say, seating myself across from Jared Jones, who fills out one of the oversize wingback chairs in the living room environment I’ve set up in my office. Jared has his phone out and his boots kicked up on my coffee table. He looks too comfortable using my office to relax and catch up on social media after teaching back-to-back periods separated from his device.
“Courtney Dunn, Benjamin’s stepmother, sure has great things to say about you. Or I guess it’s Benjamin who has given you the amazing review. He seems to love your history class. And he’s really looking forward to basketball season.” I find it’s always best to start any conversation between administrator and teacher with a compliment, it can help ease the inexplicable tension that can taint the teacher-administrator relationship. I want Jared to know I’m in his corner, though first I’d like him to recognize he’s in my office and get his feet off my coffee table. I don’t know where those Timberlands have been.