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“Sean. It was so nice to meet Violet’s mother the other day,” she says, her smile stretches across her checks.
“Oh?” I’m confused. I don’t think Victoria has ever been to the school. Violet doesn’t exactly enjoy extracurricular activities. There’d be no reason for her to be here.
“At parent-teacher conferences,” she goes on.
“Oh.” Then it hits me. “Oh. That was?—”
“Such a sweet woman. I can see why Violet is so wonderful.” She pats my arm. “Such good parents.”
Before I can correct her false assumption, another parent grabs her attention.
Violet’s mom. The words weigh heavy on me even as we drive away. The implications are heavy. Mrs. Wilfred thinks that Astrid is her mom. I don’t know how I feel about that. And I don’t know why I didn’t correct her sooner.
I wonder how Astrid would feel about it. Immediately I think of last night, coming home and finding them asleep on the couch after a girls’ night. My heart swells in my chest. Astrid would be a great mom. I’m sure she would take it as a compliment.
The ride to meet Victoria at our halfway point is quiet. I consider telling Astrid what happened, but she seemed off this morning. I replay our interaction, and I try piece together where that conversation went wrong. I scratch my chin, relieved when I turn onto the street that Victoria lives on.
“Dad, do you think Astrid will help me with my reading homework when I come home?”
“You don’t want me to help?”
She shakes her head.
“I’m sure that she will, princess,” I say, attempting to mask my unease.
I see her smile in the rearview mirror as we pull into Victoria’s parents’ driveway. We use their house as our halfway point. It’s much easier for me. I don’t exactly have the time to try and get into the city at this time of day.
And I definitely don’t have the patience. I rub at my face, checking the time when Victoria walks outside.
I slam the car door shut and help Violet with her things. She runs to her mom, hugging her tight.
I shove my hands into my pockets. “Alright. You’ll drop her off Sunday?” I ask.
“Yeah, after dinner. Probably around seven,” she says.
“Okay.”
“Dad!” Violet runs back over, unzipping her bag. “Give this to Astrid,” she says, taking out a folded up artwork. “I made it for her.” She looks so proud of herself.
Victoria’s eyebrows lift into her hairline as she mouths her words, I made it for her.
Shit. Victoria and I have been separated a long, long time. And there’d be no reason to hide my dating life from her. But something about the way she looked at Astrid that day she caught us in the pool doesn’t sit right with me. Sure, maybe it looked questionable. But it was my house. And my love life isn’t hers to judge.
Violet doesn’t stick around long enough to notice the tension. She sees her grandma in the doorway and sprints towards her.
I wave at Victoria’s mom, and she waves back. For divorced families, we’re on good terms, and have been for a while now. It’s nice. It was important to me that when we separated, our families left with things on good terms. It has helped Violet grow up with some semblance of a normal childhood. There’s very little fighting. And I have tried to make sure that there has been as little tension or unease as possible.
Until now, I think to myself. I saw the way Victoria reacted to Violet’s words. I always knew a day like this would come.
“I thought Astrid was just the nanny?” Victoria looks at me as if waiting for an explanation once Violet is inside the house.
I hate the way she’s looking at me. The smug smile curling on her face that tells the world that she thinks she’s better than everyone else.
I think back to seeing Astrid upset the other day. “She’s not just a nanny.” I cross my arms against my chest. She would be so upset if she heard that. She’s so many things to me. And words don’t seem to do it justice.
“She’s not your girlfriend, is she?” Victoria laughs. As if that could be a ridiculous suggestion.
When I don’t respond her eyes narrow. “Real classy, Sean.” Her disapproval is thick in every word. “Sleeping with the help.” She snorts.
