Back to You (9 page)

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Authors: Priscilla Glenn

BOOK: Back to You
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October 2011

“H
ave a good day, baby girl,” Michael said as he leaned over and kissed the top of Erin’s head.

“Bye Daddy!” she beamed before she turned and ran through the door of her classroom, and Michael straightened with a sigh, torn between feeling relieved at her newfound independence and saddened that she no longer clung to him.

The director of the day care facility gave him a knowing smile, and he smiled sheepishly in return. Just as he turned to leave, he could see that she was laughing too, although he couldn’t hear it, but he remembered so perfectly what her laugh sounded like that it didn’t matter.

And then Erin came into view, dropping her backpack and sprinting over to the circle before throwing herself into Lauren’s lap and hugging her tightly around the neck. Immediately Lauren wrapped her arms around Erin, rocking side to side, and when Erin pulled away, Lauren reached up and took her face in her hands, saying something to her with a smile. Erin nodded enthusiastically, and Lauren laughed, moving over to make room for her in the circle.

He turned quickly, ignoring the ache in his chest as he held the door for a woman entering with her two children before he crossed the parking lot to his car.

It was a short drive to West Linn Street, where his crew was working on the new medical offices that were going up. Michael parked his car in the designated off-site area and walked down a small hill to where two utility trucks were stationed.

“What’s up?” Dean called from behind the truck as he slid a piece of sheet metal to the edge of the truck bed. Dean was tall and dark-skinned, a few years older than Michael, and they had become fast friends when Michael joined the crew a few months earlier. It was clear that Dean had a questionable past, and Dean seemed to recognize that Michael did too; it was one of those things that was understood between them but never discussed. He also had a daughter, six months old, and was in the middle of a nasty custody battle with his ex-girlfriend.

“Hey,” Michael answered absently, and Dean stopped.

“You okay? Your girl have a hard time getting dropped off again?”

“Huh? Oh, no. She’s good,” Michael said, reaching into the truck and grabbing the measuring tape and an oversized black marker.

Dean looked at him for a second and nodded, never pushing. “Get the measurement of that union,” he said, sliding the sheet metal off the truck and laying it on a wooden board on the floor.

Michael walked inside, weaving around the construction horses and wires, and he climbed up the small ladder with the tape in his hands.

The task was rote and monotonous; it kept his hands busy, but his mind was free to wander, which wasn’t a great thing today.

It had been two months. Two months of seeing her almost every day. Two months of polite, pleasant formalities. And each day it became harder and harder to endure.

He missed her.

He’d spent the last eight years missing her, but this was different. It used to be that it just existed somewhere on the edge of his consciousness; it was always there, but it was like background noise. He had learned to ignore it, to function around it. But now, seeing her everyday, watching her with his daughter, she was in the forefront of his mind all the time. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t function around it anymore.

Michael climbed down the ladder and out to Dean, giving him the numbers, and together they rolled the sheet metal into a long tube on the wooden platform. Dean held it in place while Michael walked down its length, measuring it with the tape, marking certain spots with the marker and jotting down lines to be used as points of reference.

He’d had enough of the torturous formalities, he realized. He wanted their friendship back.

And he was going to try.

If she wouldn’t, if she refused, he would understand. But if she allowed him back into her life, despite everything that had happened, he would make sure he made things right.

He would never betray her again.

When Michael reached the end of the tube, he nodded at Dean and they unrolled the sheet. Michael knelt down on one side and Dean crossed to the other, taking a marker out of his back pocket, and together they began marking where the rivets would go.

“Hey, what’s a nice restaurant around here?” Michael asked with the cap of the marker between his teeth as he marked the last rivet.

“Upscale? Or just good food?”

“Either.”

“Gamble Mill Tavern over on Dunlap is good. Reasonable prices.”

“Yeah?” Michael said, standing as he capped his marker and slid it into his back pocket before he turned to grab the nearby drill.

“But if you want to impress her, and you got the cash to do it, take her to Labella Trattoria,” Dean said, glancing up with a knowing smirk before he slid a two-by-four under the sheet to reinforce it.

Michael laughed and shook his head as he grabbed a pair of protective goggles. “Think you’re so fucking smart.”

“Thinking and knowing are two different things,” Dean said, placing his hands on either side of the markings to hold it steady while Michael lined up the drill. “On second thought, do the Trattoria,” he added. “It seems like she’s worth it.”

Michael stopped. “What are you saying that for?”

Dean looked up. “Because of that right there,” he said, nodding in Michael’s direction. “That look on your face. As soon as I mentioned her,” he added, looking down and gesturing for Michael to make the first rivet.

He stared at Dean for a second before he dropped his eyes and pulled the trigger, and the sound of grinding metal filled the space between them.

At four thirty, Michael sat in the front seat of his car, scrubbing his hands with an antibacterial wipe, but it was in vain.

“Oh, screw it,” he huffed as he crumpled the wipe with his still-dirty hands and tossed it somewhere on the passenger side.

He exited the car, running his hand through his hair as he approached the entrance of Learn and Grow. He could see a few of the other parents waiting in the vestibule, and as he approached the glass doors, he noticed Lauren standing in the doorway of the pre-K room, calling those children whose parents were waiting and helping them on with their backpacks.

As Michael opened the door, she looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Lauren called the children one by one, and Michael waited patiently as the group of parents dwindled.

“See you tomorrow, Jack,” she said, waving to the little boy who ran out to his mother, and then the vestibule was empty. Lauren turned to look at him.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey. How was she today?” he asked, playing into their usual routine.

“Perfect. I’m going to start her and another little boy on some kindergarten material. They’re ready for it.”

“Really? Wow,” Michael said, his expression a cross between surprise and pride. “Thank you, for going above and beyond like that.”

“Trust me, I’m doing very little to get her there. She’s incredibly bright.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “So…is there anything I should be doing with her at home?”

“Um, I can get you some workbooks to do with her,” she said, scooping her hair back into a makeshift ponytail, and when she let it fall, he caught the scent of her shampoo.

She turned then, motioning to someone inside, and he closed his eyes and exhaled.

Just do it
, he thought.

“So, I was thinking,” he said when she turned back around. “We never get to talk here. Do you want to maybe grab dinner with me? Catch up a little bit?”

Her face instantly dropped, and Michael’s heart followed.

“Oh…I, um…I just…I don’t…”

“Miss Lauren’s coming to dinner? Yay!” Erin squealed from behind Lauren, and Michael closed his eyes and cringed.

He never would have asked had he known Erin was within earshot; he didn’t want her to be disappointed, and he definitely didn’t want Lauren to think he was using his daughter as a pawn. But as he opened his eyes, he saw Lauren looking down at her, and it was hard to regret his little slip-up.

Because he knew by the look on Lauren’s face that she didn’t want to disappoint her either.

She exhaled heavily, nibbling on her thumbnail before she glanced at Michael. “Um, okay, yeah. I guess we can do that.”

“Yay!” Erin squeaked again, dancing in place.

“Go get your backpack, honey,” Lauren said to her, and Erin darted back into the classroom.

“I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “I didn’t realize she was there.”

“It’s okay,” Lauren said, but her eyes were uneasy.

“Where are we going?” Erin asked as she ran back to them, dragging her backpack.

“How about—”

“How about Chuck E. Cheese?” Lauren said, cutting Michael off.


Yeah
!” Erin cheered, jumping up and down, and Lauren squatted down to help her put her backpack on.

Michael smiled half-heartedly, running the back of his hand over his eyes. He had wanted to take her to one of the restaurants Dean told him about. After all, Chuck E. Cheese wasn’t the kind of place where they could sit down and have an uninterrupted conversation.

Although, maybe that was exactly what Lauren had in mind when she suggested it.

“Okay, so I’ll just meet you over there?” Lauren said as she stood, looking at Michael.

“Sounds good,” he said, forcing a smile. As Erin ran to him and hugged him around the leg, his smile turned genuine as he looked down at her and placed his hand on her head.

“Alright, I’m just gonna grab my things.” She turned her attention to Erin and winked. “See you in a little bit.”

As soon as she had disappeared back inside the classroom, Erin grabbed his hand and started towing him toward the door. “Come on, Daddy! Come on! We’re going to have dinner with Miss Lauren!”

And he laughed as she dragged him toward the exit, because he was just as excited as she was.

Lauren and Michael sat at a booth with two substandard salads on the table between them, surrounded by the sounds of bells ringing and children yelling and laughing. Erin remained in Michael’s line of sight, just as she promised, running around the Toddler Zone as she waited for her pizza to arrive.

“Sorry about this,” Michael said, gesturing toward the salads. “We didn’t have to come here.”

“That’s okay,” she said before she turned to look at Erin. “She’s having fun. She’ll sleep great tonight,” she added with a laugh, and Michael smiled.

“How long have you been teaching preschool?”

“About two months.”

Michael raised his eyebrows, and she nodded. “Yeah. My first day was Erin’s first day.”

“No shit?” he said, immediately cupping his hand over his mouth as he looked around.

Lauren tried not to laugh, and Michael looked down at his salad and chuckled. “So what were you doing before that? Were you in school?”

“No, I was still teaching,” Lauren said. “Except I taught kindergarten. I’m working at the day care now while I get my master’s degree.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going for?” Michael asked.

“Child psychology.”

Michael looked up at her, and she glanced at him before she cleared her throat and rooted through her salad.

“So, what do you do?” she asked.

“I work construction.”

“Oh, that’s right. A bin knocker.”

Michael smiled. “A tin knocker.”

She glanced up at him with an embarrassed laugh. “Clearly, I have no idea what that is.”

He flicked a piece of wilted lettuce with his fork as he laughed. “I fabricate and install ductwork in the heating and cooling systems of buildings.”

“Oh,” she said. “That sounds…difficult.”

“Nah,” he said with a dismissive shake of his head. “It pays the bills though, for now. I’m going back to school part time.”

Lauren looked up at him and smiled, and he swallowed hard as his stomach flipped. It wasn’t the strained, polite smile she’d been giving him for the past two months. It was his favorite smile.

The same proud smile she wore in the graduation picture.

“Good for you,” she said. “What are you going for?”

“Mechanical engineering,” he said, looking away and hoping she couldn’t see how thrown he was by her reaction.

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