A/N: If I could bake you all a cake, I would. It makes me so happy to know that some of you are still interested in this story! Thank you so much for the input last chapter and for taking the time to read. I don't know for sure if I'll be able to update again before July. I have orientation on Monday and Tuesday, and then I'm leaving Saturday to go stay with my best friend until the 26th, so it'll mostly depend on whether or not I can get a chapter written between Tuesday night and Friday night, which will depend on what I have to do the rest of the week! Long story short, it might be a longer wait for the next chapter, but it will be much much shorter than a year :P Thank you all again and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
"It is senseless to love anything this much." — Barabara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams
"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Well, I've been afraid of changin' cause I've built my life around you. But time makes bolder, children get older, and I'm getting older too." — Dixie Chicks, "Landslide"
MILEY'S POV:
"I don't like this place."
Odette's declaration settled heavily on my heart. I tightened my grip on her small hand and felt like an overemotional idiot. It's just kindergarten. I'm not going to cry. That's dumb.
But I shot a glace over at Adeline who had her tiny arms wrapped as tight around Jake as they could go, and I knew I was going to cry. I didn't want to leave my babies, and they didn't want to leave us either. Odette didn't like this place, and Adeline was blatantly terrified. It hurt me to know that I had to send them off somewhere that they really didn't want to be.
Jake pressed a kiss to the top of Adeline's head and attempted to set her down. She clung stubbornly to him, a sob escaping her when she realized he was trying to put her down.
"Don't daddy!" She exclaimed. She hid her face in his neck and cried even harder. My heart kept feeling heavier and heavier and heavier and I knew it would break any moment now and end up somewhere near my feet.
I turned to Odette and kneeled down so we were eye level. Her green eyes showed no trace of tears, but she did not look pleased. Her little nose was scrunched up like she'd just smelled something awful. She shook her head once.
"No way. Those kids in there are dumb freaking horses." She declared.
Behind me, Jake was talking in a soft, soothing voice to Adeline, trying to convince her that kindergarten was going to be fun and not scary. I could tell she was not buying it.
I reached up and undid the clip in Odette's hair. Somehow she had managed to mess up her hair from the car to the school building.
"You haven't even walked in yet, Odette. How can you possibly know you don't want to be friends with those kids?" I asked. I brushed her fair hair back from her face and replaced the clip. Odette grabbed my hands as I was lowering them from her head.
"That kid in there can barely speak." She said. Her tone made it sound like the kid she was talking about was a Leper.
"You and your sister are smart for your age. Most kids don't talk as well as you do right now." I explained patiently. My knees were starting to ache from kneeling for so long. Proof that I'm getting old, I suppose. I stood back up. "You have to give it a chance."
Odette considered that for a second.
"Okay." She agreed.
She walked the few steps it took to reach the classroom door, and glanced in the room. You could hear the sounds of the kids who were already in the room playing. She examined the room for a long moment, and then turned and walked back over to me.
"It smells icky." She said stubbornly. She crossed her arms. "No kindergarten for Odette."
I stared at my daughter and couldn't figure out how she turned out as intelligent as she was. I figured she shared a lot of genes with Lana, who was exceptionally intelligent also. Regardless of how, I could already tell she was going to be a teenager from hell if she was putting up this much of a fight for simply going to kindergarten.
I picked her up, deciding the easiest way to get her through that door would be to carry her. She obviously sensed my train of thought because she immediately began squirming.
"Mommy! I don't want to!" She yelled.
I refused to loosen my grip and eventually she stopped squirming. She glanced up at me.
"I don't want to." She repeated.
I don't want you to, either. I wanted to say. But it was just one of those things that had to be done, as much as I hated it.
"You don't want to right now. But I promise you will have an amazing time and meet a lot of new friends. It seems scary at first, but it's actually not. Kind of like that ride at the fair. You remember that? You were so scared to go on it, but once you did, you had a lot of fun!" I tried.
She sighed in exasperation. "Mommy, school is not the fair. I don't see no goldfish or games or cotton candy or anything."
I turned and glanced at Jake and Adeline again, hoping he was making better progress than I was. Adeline had stopped crying, but she was still attached to him. He was rocking her in his arms like a little baby and for a second I thought he might cry too. But he met my gaze and gave me a look that clearly expressed how much he didn't want to do this too.
I looked back down at Odette, and was shocked to see that her former haughty expression had melted away to one that showed fear. I hugged her tightly.
"It will really be okay. I would never leave you some place where you could get hurt." I whispered. "Plus, Cole is just down the hallway."
Odette perked up.
"DUMB HEAD! I forgot that dummy head was here. I wanna see him." She demanded.
She wiggled persistently until I set her back down. I grabbed her hand to keep her from running down the hallway.
"It's almost time for school to start, so you have to go into your classroom. You'll see him today though during art." I explained. Jake walked up beside me and grasped my hand. Time to meet the teacher. He pulled me forward, Addie still in his arms, and I pulled Odette after me. We slinked into the classroom one by one like a lethargic snake.
The teacher—a kindly looking Indian woman with an adorable vintage dress on—greeted us immediately.
"Good morning!" She exclaimed. Jake and I returned the sentiment. Jake managed to set Adeline down. She quickly grabbed Odette's hand and held on tightly. She reached her other hand behind her and grabbed a handful of the bottom of my dress.
The teacher kneeled down in front of the twins. She extended her hand to Odette, who was immediately flattered and shook her hand primly. Odette adored being treated as an adult. The teacher extended her hand to Adeline too, but Adeline was not letting go of Odette's hand or my clothing. The teacher gave her a friendly pat on the arm instead.
"Why hello! You two must Adeline and Odette! I'm Ms. Luella, but everyone calls me Ms. L."
I prayed quickly that Adeline would take to her. I wasn't sure what we'd do if Adeline didn't warm up to this entire kindergarten situation. Odette was already warming up though, so at least we were fifty percent successful.
"I know a man named Lou! He is my dad's friend. He smokes cigars and makes movies." Odette exclaimed.
Ms. L raised her eyebrows. "Really now? That's really cool!"
Odette nodded. "Yeah, and you know what else is cool?"
"What?"
"My brother's here. He's showing everyone how to be an artist like he is. His name is Cole but really it's dumb head." She smiled sweetly.
I set my hand gently on top of Adeline's head. She was staring determinately at her feet. She had begged me to let her bring Prince Corey, but I had talked her out of it. I wished now that she had brought him. He might have given her more courage.
Ms. L turned to Adeline. "What about you, Adeline? Do you know any cool facts?"
Adeline backed up a bit so she was leaning back against Jake's legs.
"I wanna go home." She whispered. Her eyes followed the other kids around the room as they screamed and laughed.
Ms. L smiled. "Don't you worry, you're going to have so much fun that you'll forget all about home!"
The minute Ms. L said that, Jake and I flinched. Wrong thing to say.
We glanced down at Adeline and her eyes were slowly filling with tears. She turned around.
"I don't wanna go! I wanna go home! I don't wanna forget about home! I want Paint!" She started sobbing again.
Ms. L looked stricken. She slowly rose. I pulled Adeline into my arms and stroked her hair while Ms. L apologized to Jake.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think that would upset her." She said.
Jake's voice sounded pained. Not enough for anyone else to really notice, but I could tell. "It's okay. Do you think me or my wife should stay here with her since it's her first day? Or do you think we should rip the Bandaid off quickly so to speak?"
"I want you or daddy to stay with me." Adeline whispered to me. I kissed her cheek and waited to hear what Ms. L thought.
"It's better to rip it off all at once. She'll be okay. I promise."
Neither Jake nor I felt good about leaving our girls here, but we especially felt unsure about leaving Addie. She was more fragile than Odette, who had already plowed her way over to the toys and was automatically assuming her natural role as leader. She reminded me so much of Jake sometimes that it was astounding.
I gently set Adeline down. I hugged her tightly.
"I love you to the moon and back, beautiful girl. I'll see you this afternoon. Be brave and have fun." I said. Adeline's lower lip trembled as the tears restarted. She gripped my hand.
"Don't leave me mommy! Please!" She begged. She pressed her cheek against my hand and sniffed. "I will miss you too much."
And my heart broke and I felt a burning behind my eyes. Jake set his hand on my lower back briefly and then leaned down to hug Adeline also. She lifted her head off my hand and released it, resting her head on Jake instead.
"I love you, Addie. Make a lot of new friends. It will be fun. And when you get home, there will be strawberries waiting for you!" He kissed her forehead and stood back up.
She sniffed and looked so small and alone without being attached to someone. Her pink eyelet dress was slightly wrinkled from all the holding, and the matching headband had slid back a little on her head. She sniffed again.
"Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?" She asked.
Jake and I both laughed at that, more out of relief than actual humor.
"Yes, honey. We'll have mac and cheese AND pizza." I promised.
She nodded and slowly turned around and I just couldn't get over how sad it was to see her standing there on her own. She looked so lost and scared. But she deliberately walked step by step until she was across the room beside her sister, and I was never as proud of her as I was in that moment.
"You're crying!" Jake said in actual surprise. He wrapped an arm around my waist.
I wiped at my eyes. "No I'm not. I'm just allergic to the smell in this room."
He laughed a bit at that. Ms. L walked back up to us (she'd left to talk to other parents).
"I'll call you if anything happens, but I fully expect everything will go smoothly."
I blinked and suddenly felt heat creeping up the back of my spine and a nauseous feeling take hold of my gut. I fully expect everything will go smoothly. My doctor's exact words at a checkup for Joy. It was depressing to me how no matter how many years passed, or how much progress I made, there would always be moments like this. Moments when I find myself hurtling suddenly back into the past, back into the worst time of my life, back to experience the pain of it again, a pain that never ever went away or faded, only made itself at home and kicked off its shoes and made an indention so permanent in my life that I got used to it being there. I was used to feeling that constant pain. There isn't a day that I don't think of those two. I expect to lie awake at night and hurt. But it was moments like these, when I didn't expect the memories to come crawling back up on me again, that hurt the most. And it made me tired. It made me just want to sleep.
Jake took my hand and we walked out of the room, and I caught one last glance of Adeline and Odette playing, and felt a little better. I've found that even a simple glance at them happy can slow down any panic I feel washing over me.
I didn't want to talk just then, and Jake could sense that. He walked quietly beside me, his hand still wrapped around mine. It was times like this that I felt weak, regardless of how strong I knew deep down I had to be to have gotten through all that I have. (Gotten through? I wasn't really sure if I could even say that I had gotten through any of my trials, because I will never leave them. So I guess I'm in a constant state of managing them and I like to think I do a very good job of that at least). I felt like the slightest thing could push me over the edge in that moment, and I knew if Jake asked me what was wrong, I would start crying. I didn't want that.
The car was extremely hot, and when I glanced at the dash, the temperature read eighty-seven degrees. Eight in the morning and eight-seven degrees. Normally that would mean it was a beach day, but with the mood I was in right now it meant it was a napping with the fan on day.
Jake drove silently. He rested a hand on my knee and put my favorite radio station on instead of his. The little things he did made more of a difference than he would think.
He stopped the car in front of a bakery. I turned to ask him what we were doing, but he was already getting out of the car. He slammed the door and made his way around the front of the car and over to my door. I pushed the door open and he opened his arms.
"Come here." He said simply.
I slid over on the seat and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and then suddenly pulled me out of the car, so he was holding me bridal-style in his arms.
His eyes were smiling but he worked hard to keep his face straight as he kicked the car door shut and started walking up to the door of the bakery.
"Jake…what are you doing?" I asked. I leaned my head against him, too tired to protest and make him set me down on the ground. I didn't care about this being the cover of the next issue of OK magazine. I was just tired.
"We're getting chocolate cake. And not just chocolate cake. We're getting that chocolate cake that has chocolate chips in it and chocolate icing and then chocolate shavings on top." He declared, his voice as serious as if he were a doctor telling a patient they were to receive a new heart.
I laughed, and it felt really good even though it sounded a bit like air being forced out of a balloon, weak and unnatural. Jake had decided a few years ago that the best way to handle my periodical PMS mood swings was chocolate of various kinds (chocolate bars, chocolate milkshakes, Hershey's kisses, chocolate coins, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate pie, chocolate fountains, chocolate covered strawberries…it was always a surprise each month what he'd come up with). I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't the actual chocolate that made me feel better, but the sweet way he did it every month and the thought he put into it. He had begun to use the chocolate remedy for everything, declaring it a classic cure. He gave the girls chocolate whenever they were upset and now I guess decided that what I needed was artery clogging chocolate cake.
"You know chocolate doesn't fix everything, right?" I said, half-joking and half-serious. He looked down at me and smiled.
"I know, but when has it ever made anything worse?"
And I loved him so much right then. I loved him for the way he carried me inside as if he could see how tired I was. I loved the way he put an effort into his relationships with everyone he cared about every single day. I loved the way he cut filming just to walk his daughters into school and buy me chocolate cake. I love the way he loved me and the way I loved him.
Everyone in the bakery stared when we walked in, and I couldn't really blame them. Jake walked casually up to the counter, me still in his arms, and placed an order for the cake.
"How long will it take?" He demanded.
The woman behind the counter had hair so light it was almost white, but she looked fairly young. Her skin was clean and bright and her eyes were almost seafoam green. She blinked and her cheeks flushed (one of the common reactions women had when Jake Ryan addressed them directly).
"Um…about two hours?" She said weakly.
Jake nodded, but looked displeased with that answer.
"We have a few cakes premade in the back though, if you don't mind having one of those…" She suggested.
Jake brightened. "That'd be perfect! Thank you so much for your excellent grace and customer skills, Julie."
The girl—Julie (I wasn't sure how Jake was able to make out the name on her nametag, as it was quite messy)—blushed so hard I felt embarrassed for her and stumbled into the back.
"Poor girl." I said.
Jake glanced down at me, a grin still on his face. "What? I was very kind to her!"
I laughed. "I know you were. That's the problem. You can't just turn your Ryan charm on poor girls at the bakery."
He raised his eyebrow. "Do I sense jealousy, Mrs. Ryan?"
I rolled my eyes. "You wish."
His smile just kept getting brighter and brighter. He loved messing with me. "You know, I could probably ask her to take her clothes off and she would do it without a second thought."
I found it almost hilarious how that didn't phase me at all. "You sure could! But you wanna know something else?"
He smirked. "What, dearest?"
I leaned up closer to him. "You would never cheat on me." I whispered.
He closed the gap between our faces and kissed me and my heart started beating just as hard as that poor girls must be right now.
He pulled back and his smile was gone. It was replaced by a serious expression that made butterflies flutter around the bottom of my stomach. "I would never and could never." He stated. After a few moments, his grin returned. "I mean, after all, what other woman would eat this heart attack cake with me?"
I sighed dramatically. "You just love me for my high metabolism and love for chocolate."
He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Damn, you caught me."
Finally, the girl returned from the back with a cake box in her hand. She had a phone in her hand.
She set the cake box on the counter and hesitated.
"Mr. Ryan…could you say hi to my roommate? She's a huge fan, and she'd kill me if she knew I saw you and didn't get you to say hi to her." The girl cautiously extended the phone, as if she expected Jake to slap her hand down.
Jake cheerfully took the phone.
"Hi, Julie's roommate!" He said.
There was a brief sound of what sounded like screaming, and then silence. Jake pulled the phone away from his face and looked at the screen. He shrugged and then handed the phone back.
"I think she accidentally hung up or something."
Julie laughed nervously. "Actually, she probably passed out."
I grimaced. His ego would be sky high the entire day now.
Once we were back home, we went up to the lounge above our bedroom. We ate cake and drank wine and talked, and then I laid across his lap and he turned the TV on and we watched some arduous documentary on beetles for the longest time. It was nice.
"I wish we could have days like this more often." I admitted. It was something I never used to say, because I didn't want him to feel pressured into not going to film, but the wine and sugar made my tongue a little looser than normal. He set a warm hand on my stomach like he used to do all the time when I was pregnant and for a second, beneath the warm happy film of alcohol and cake and love, I felt that deep pain rise again.
"We could. We probably will. The director is pissed, and I think I'm ready to stop being in so many movies. I don't want to stop acting completely, but I'd be good with only doing one movie per year, if even that." He said. He pushed my hair out of my face. "We've got enough stress here without the added stress of movie after movie after movie. I'm getting too old for it."
I stared at his face, noticing the tired heaviness in his eyes and the stressful downward pull of his eyebrows. And it occurred to me that I've never heard Jake say he was too old to do anything before. I've never heard him say he was too tired to do something he wanted, or felt like he needed to do. It had been simple before…what Jake wanted done, he did. It was overwhelmingly sad to think that maybe that wasn't the case anymore. Maybe, after years upon years of sorrow and grief and stress and February days, he was not only just as tired as I was, but he was ready to give into the exhaustion. The exhaustion that he would have to feel in order to set aside his pride had to be overbearing. That filled me momentarily with a hysteria that was completely ridiculous, but nonetheless potent. I wanted to sit up and grab his shoulders and shake him and shake him and shake him until we were young again.
He smiled down at me, the tiredness evaporating just a little bit. "Besides, I like this better anyway. I like being around more. I like watching boring documentaries with you. I like being…normal."
I like this, too, I wanted to say, but you aren't normal. You're Jake Ryan. You're going to be extraordinary whether you're filming movies or sitting with me, just because that's the kind of person you are. You're the kind of person who puts on his daughter's arm floats and jumps in the pool to make sure they work before letting her in the water. You're the kind of person who spends five hours in a candle shop looking for a certain limited edition scent just because your wife mentions that her mother used to light it in their house when she was in a good mood. You're the kind of person who can make a girl faint just by addressing her directly. You're Jake Ryan, and you don't give up, because you're just that kind of person.
But I can sense the conversation is over with, and he's at peace with his decision. And really, it's not so sad that we're getting older or that finally we've reached that point where we want life to quiet down. It's just sad to me that Jake no longer sees acting as fun, but as a source of stress.
I take another sip of wine and feel warmth spreading throughout me. I close my eyes and feel sleep inching up on me bit by bit. Right before I'm about to drift off, a random sentence from the documentary crosses my mind. Certain types of beetles can carry things which are fifty times their own weight. I wonder briefly, at what point, it all becomes too much, and if maybe that's why their life span is only three to five years.
It's difficult to carry that much for that long.
COLE's POV:
You're never aware of how much you really cuss until you're put in a situation where you can't.
Now, I'd never advocate not cussing. I'm a firm believer in freedom of speech and all that. But when I found myself in front of a class of fifth graders, I suddenly wish I'd never cussed so I didn't become reliant on those words in my vocabulary. When I went to talk, there were such ugly and gaping holes where curse words normally fit in. It was almost uncomfortable how bland my sentences sounded, and it didn't sound like me at all.
The art room was just as pathetic as it was when I was here. Outdated white board, five tables stained with years upon years of paint and markers, and the most depressing color walls I've ever seen. I figure they used to be a crisp shade of white, or maybe a soft shade of gray-blue, but years accumulated and made it the most morbid gray. I felt like I was standing outside of some factory, not inside a room where creativity was supposed to be being formed. I couldn't remember what color the walls had been when I was here…probably the same color.
My desk was a pathetic, scratched up thing, but I really didn't mind so much because I don't plan to ever be sitting behind it. The only good thing about the art room was the plethora of new supplies. There were boxes upon boxes of bottles of acrylic and gesso paint, new packages of paintbrushes, boxes of clay, paper in every size and shape you could imagine, markers in shades so abundant that I was certain they didn't exist in marker form when I was a child, crayons, colored pencils…everything one could need. There was also one children's easel for every table, and they actually looked pretty sturdy.
I had no idea where to start with these kids. The actual art teacher had sent me a lesson plan for the first two weeks, but she said I could do whatever I wanted the first day. I couldn't remember any projects I did in elementary school except one where we had to look in a mirror and then draw ourselves, and that was far too complicated to start out with. I was feeling extremely self conscious all of a sudden, and I regretted the decision to do this. Who was I to think I could teach anyone anything?
I took up seven minutes with taking attendance and introducing myself. Now only forty three more. I could do that stupid thing where everyone goes around the room and introduces themselves, but I always hated that shit.
A sudden idea hit me, and I decided to go with it before I had second thoughts.
"This room is pretty ugly, right?" I said. Nervous giggles erupted throughout the room and a few of the kids widened their eyes. Oops. I forgot that some parents considered words like "stupid" and "ugly" to be bad words. Eh, oh well.
"Do you guys think you'd like to help make it more bearable?" I suggested.
It was easier than I thought it would be. They nodded eagerly and their eyes lit up when I told them the assignment. They had so much life, so much energy, so much happiness inside of them that sometimes it was almost like staring into a bright light. I wondered when my own light had burned out. I wondered when anyone's light burned out. I figured it was something that you couldn't draw a generic line for. My light probably burned out the day Isabella died. It's as if she came in the world with her own light, but left taking both mine and hers and my parents' with her. I haven't felt or seen that light in any of us since, except in extremely brief moments of extreme happiness.
Adeline and Odette were poster children for it though, and it occurred to me that maybe that's why they were such beautiful children. Beyond their obvious genetic beauty, there was something else there. A kind of unwavering happiness, a faithful belief in unconditional hope. It was the same thing that made every child beautiful, regardless of their physical attributes.
By the time the bell rang, I knew almost all their names, and the room had a lot more color. They all drew their favorite place in the entire world, and we taped them neatly to the wall. Some of the places were adorable. Some of them were sad. A little boy named Grant's favorite place in the entire world was the Cancer hospital, because, in his words, "that's where my mommy is". When he said that, he even smiled. He smiled like he knew it was a sad place, but still he would appreciate it because it was the place where his mother was, and that made it beautiful. And I wanted to tell him 'I've sort of been there too. I've seen my parents—particularly my mother—in horrible places in horrible conditions in horrible times'. But for some reason, he seemed stronger than I was then and am now. He didn't need any guidance, he didn't need any help. All he wanted was to proudly tape the picture of his mother in the hospital bed to the wall. Because it is what it is to him.
My day worked in reverse: I had the fifth graders first thing in the morning, then the fourth graders, then the third graders, then a lunch break, then the second graders, then the first graders, and lastly, the kindergarteners. There were three classes in each grade, and it rotated where one class would go to art on Monday, then on Tuesday they'd go to P.E., then on Wednesday they'd go to music, and then they'd be back to art on Thursday.
The day went on smoothly despite my initial panic. The kids—well, most of them—were enthusiastic about the assignment and by the end of the day the room was looking a lot brighter. By the time the kindergarteners came in, I was beginning to feel at home in the room.
When I saw Adeline's face, I knew it was a very lucky thing her class had art on Mondays, because I didn't know if she could have made it another hour without someone she knew. When she saw me she ran at me full speed, the most relieved expression on her face that it broke my heart.
"C!" She cried in joy. I picked her up and she clutched me tightly. I glanced over her shoulder and Odette was already at a table with three other kids whom she was entertaining with an animated story about God only knows what.
I patted Adeline's back and then set her back down. I expected her to protest, but she just kind of stood there, looking almost empty. It scared me.
"Addie? Are you okay?" I asked.
She glanced up at me and nodded. She grabbed my hand.
"C, is it almost time to go home?" She asked. She sounded desperate.
I didn't expect it to break my heart as much as it did. Adeline was just one of those children that got to you. Her sweet disposition and frail smile affected people in ways I've never seen.
"Yeah, Addie. It's almost time to go home. Just my class and then it's time to go! But we're gonna have fun in my class, right?" I said.
She brightened up a little and smiled.
"Yeah! Your class will be fun." She nodded.
I grinned. "That's the spirit! Now why don't you go sit down?"
She wasn't as energetic about that, but she did as she was told. She at first started to walk to sit next to her sister, but then stopped when she realized there was no open seat. And for a moment, I was furious at Odette. I knew it wasn't fair to expect her to watch over Adeline constantly, but Adeline was delicate. She needed Odette, especially today.
Adeline just sort of stood there, and I was willing to bet this had never happened to her. She always had someone or something to cling to or hide behind. Prince Corey, Odette, Mom, Dad, me, Paint, Emily…there was always someone or something. And now, there was no one and nothing.
I wanted to let her sit up at the front of the class with me, but I knew I couldn't do that, and that hurt. I had to watch her slowly turn around and look for another seat, the loneliest expression on her face.
Happiness warmed me when a little girl with auburn pig tails yelled "Adeline! Come sit with me!". Adeline shyly walked over and pulled herself up on the seat beside the auburn haired girl. The auburn haired girl smiled and held Adeline's hand, and it was amazing how much more at ease Addie looked when someone was holding her hand.
"Yeah, that's my brother, dumb head." I heard Odette exclaiming loudly to her new friends. "'Cept his name is really Cole, but I call him dumb head."
I had an urge to smack myself in the forehead. Of course. I should have known teaching Odette was never going to be possible. I decided to let it slide this time, but someone was going to have to talk to her about that at some point.
I called role, and the auburn haired little girl's name turned out to be Joy. It made me happy that that name didn't affect Adeline at all. It made me happy that she could hear it and not feel like someone punched her in the stomach.
I explained the assignment to them carefully. I was curious to see what Adeline and Odette would draw. I drifted from table to table, giving help when asked and making suggestions, until it was ten minutes until the bell. Everyone brought their pictures up to the front then, and I taped them one by one up on the wall. Odette proudly pushed hers into my hands, and I felt the most intense curiously take over me. I wondered if one of the girls would be an artist like me.
Odette's was good, but she didn't seem to care very much for it. She had looked bored when doing it and that didn't really surprise me. Odette was destined for the stage and it was silly to ever doubt that for a moment.
What was surprising was her favorite place. I had expected Build-A-Bear or something akin to that. But she had drawn, very messily, a stage I didn't recognize.
"Where's this?" I asked her.
She smiled. "I don't know yet."
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Odette, you were supposed to draw your favorite place. How can that be your favorite place if you don't even know where it is?"
She scoffed. "Because I sawed it on the TV. Daddy was there. But I will one day, 'cause it's my favorite place, and people always go to their favorite places."
She dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder and marched off. A few girls automatically followed her, and I knew she'd be popular from this point on.
Adeline's was a little better than Odette's. She had drawn the garden her and mom tended to periodically in the backyard. We were all there, me and our parents and Odette and even Paint. She was planting pink flowers and there was a rainbow in the sky.
"I've been to my favorite place." She clarified. I laughed.
Once everyone was back in their seats, Joy raised her hand.
"Yes?" I asked.
She examined the walls thoughtfully and then looked back at me. "Is yours up there?"
I blinked. "My favorite place?"
"Yes."
Everyone stared at me.
"Well, no. That was your assignment, not mine." I said.
Joy nodded and then put her hand down. A few seconds later she extended it back in the air.
"Yes?" I asked again.
"What would it be?" She asked.
I started to answer, but then closed my mouth. Where would it be? Many possibilities crossed my mind—the bed back at the apartment, curled up with Emily in those first few moments of the morning when the sun has just risen and everything is blue and her body is warm with sleep and she holds me like she never wants to let go, or maybe at home with Adeline and Odette and Emily and my parents, all of us playing a game or laughing about something my dad or Odette just said, or maybe even the swingset in Emily's backyard that we used to always hang out at when we were little.
There were many possibilities, but I realized the true answer wasn't any of those. The true answer was Virginia, around a campfire, with Emily leaning against me and all the stars actually shining and me realizing that I love her and her saying she loves me and everything being okay. It was that entire night. It was the way Emily laughed when we fought over marshmellows to roast, it was hearing my mother laugh—honestly laugh—for the first time in a long time, it was a new beginning of sorts. And it was my favorite.
"Virginia." I answered. "The backyard to a house in Virginia."
Joy seemed satisfied with that answer.
"You should draw that and put it up there too!" Another little girl suggested.
I smiled. "I just might."
The school day ended quite nicer than it started. I helped Adeline get her backpack out of her classroom, and then I walked the twins out to the car rider line. Of course my mother was already there. She was third in line and she looked so apprehensive.
"Mommy!" Adeline cried. She started to take off for the car, but I explained to her that she had to wait until they called her name, and then she could get in the car. She didn't like that at all.
I finished cleaning up in the art room, and then I left for home. The anger I felt at the situation with Angie resurfaced as I was driving. I wanted to kill her boyfriend.
When I entered the apartment, Emily and Angie were on the couch under a giant blanket watching something on Lifetime, and Oliver was in the kitchen making a cake. He was even wearing an apron that I had no idea where it came from.
"Is this a sorority house now?" I joked. I was relieved to see Angie was no longer crying. She looked a lot better.
Emily looked up and smiled when she saw me. She jumped up from the couch and darted across the space between us, settling herself in my arms. I'd called her at lunch and told her how the day was going so far, and I could tell she was genuinely happy for me.
"Was the second half of the day just as good as the first?" She asked.
"A little better, a little worse. I'll tell you more about it later." I said. I kissed her (ignoring the angry glares from Oliver), and she made her way back to the couch to continue her Lifetime movie fest with Angie.
"What kind of cake are you making?" I asked Oliver, attempting to make peace between us. He slammed the door of the oven shut and turned around, glaring at me.
"That is irrelevant because this is the girls' cake. I made it for them. It's the happy cake and it's just for them."
I resisted the very strong urge to laugh and instead pretended to be offended.
"Oh, well, excuse me! Did you put weed in the cake?"
Oliver stopped moving.
"What?" He snapped.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I was just asking if you put weed in the cake. You called it a 'happy cake' and all, so I figured there was some substance making it happy."
He glared at me and turned around, tending to the cake again.
"For your information, the substance is sugar. Not all people need illegal drugs to be happy. Some people are pleased by a simple coconut cake."
"So it's a coconut cake!" I exclaimed. I loved pissing him off.
He shook his head sadly. "You are just like your father."
"My dad loves you too, Oliver."
I walked over to where Emily and Angie were sitting, and sat down beside Emily. I wanted to get her alone so I could ask her what Angie had decided to do and what had happened today, but I understood that now wasn't the time.
The girls ate some of the cake and then (thankfully) Oliver left. Emily made me something for dinner and I sat with them while I ate, trying not to think of how many points it docked off my manliness to be sitting here watching Lifetime movies. Once I was finished with my dinner, I began working on drawing my favorite place. I got immersed in that, and the next thing I knew, Angie was getting her stuff together to leave. Emily and her said goodbye, and Angie leaned down and hugged me. I awkwardly patted her back, a bit surprised at the sudden affection.
"Thank you." She told me, and I could see that she honestly meant that.
After she was gone, I set my sketchbook aside and pulled Emily down on my lap.
"What's she going to do?" I asked.
Emily turned around a little and stared at me for a moment, and then she gripped my face and kissed me like she hadn't seen me in like a year.
She pulled back (to my regret) and kept looking at me with that same look.
"What?" I asked.
"I love you. I love that you care about my friend. I love that you asked what she is going to do. I love that you not only didn't care that she stayed here all day, but you even sat with us and watched Lifetime movies. I love you, I love you, I love you." She rushed out. She kissed me again and I had no idea something that any decent human being would do would get such a reaction from her.
I debated showing her my favorite place. If she saw that right now she'd probably jump me right here right now. But I decided that'd be exploiting her emotions and wrong, so I kept the sketchbook closed and on the table.
"I love you too." I replied. And it was true. And it felt so good to know that it was true. That she loved me and I loved her.
"She's staying at the apartment with Mary tonight. She said she was going to have to think some more, but I think—and hope—that she's going to leave him. If so, that works out perfectly because Mary needs another roommate now that I've moved out. And I think they'd get along." She said.
We'd officially moved her out of the apartment she had been sharing with Mary and into here a few days ago.
"I hope she leaves him too." I said. But I doubted she would after seeing the fear on her face this morning. The fear of being alone is much stronger than the fear of physical pain.
For some reason I didn't know, I just had a feeling that I was going to beat the shit out of Gabe someday soon. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but I knew it was bound to happen eventually. I couldn't wait.
I told Emily about the last part of my day. She seemed just as upset about poor Adeline as I did. She seemed to think she'd do okay tomorrow though, and I agreed. My mom called me and interrogated me for twenty minutes about how my day was and how Adeline did in my class. By the time I finally got off the phone with her, Emily had fallen asleep on the couch, her hair fanning out all around her on the couch. I stared at her and realized that my favorite place was not Virginia. My favorite place was the space between her fingers, the deepness of her eyes, the curve of her shoulder. My favorite place really wasn't a place at all, and suddenly I understood Odette's picture today. I understood what she meant. It wasn't so much the actual place; it was just some place you feel safe, some place you feel like you belong. And she felt like she belonged on a stage, just as I felt like I belonged with Emily.
I didn't want anything to change, and that desire left me almost breathless with panic, because things always change. Favorite colors and favorite songs and opinions on politics and one's views of the world changed from week to week almost. No one is the same person they were even yesterday; we're all evolving at a pace so rapid it almost makes me sick to my stomach.
It didn't feel like it was me or Emily that was changing though. It felt more like the universe was changing, that something was about to happen that was bigger than us, that we had no control over. It felt like time was limited.
What becomes your sanctuary if you lose your favorite place?