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I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. If I’d changed my name after the divorce, then Elizabeth wouldn’t have assumed that we were still married. But it was such a hassle. I didn’t have the time or energy to fill out the forms and wait in the long line. Not to mention, most of my clients knew me as Marigold Wells. I was regretting not just doing it now, though. Not that Liam needed to know that.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mumbled, reading the same line over and over. It was bad enough that I’d have to work at the event, but working it with Liam would be disastrous.
If this school took spring and fall festivals casually, this would be no big deal. Volunteering at the school would be one more task to check off on the parent task list. But no, our sons’ school gave new meaning to the phrase over the top. Last year’s spring festival was sponsored by Red Bull. The committee in charge had half the teachers dress like pigs with wings and attached to a pulley system that made them “fly” whilst “Living On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi played in the background.
Add in the giant cotton candy animals, live music with insane fireworks that were a little too close for comfort, and kids running around all hyped up on Pixie Stix, and it was an ordeal.
All to raise money for a different charity each year. Apparently, this year’s recipient was the local humane society.
When the meeting was over, I’d just have to approach Elizabeth and explain that Liam and I were divorced and that there would be no working together, now or ever. Simple enough.
As Elizabeth wrapped up her list of rules, including no crowd surfing, people began filtering out, meandering, as if they had all the time in the world.
I stood to leave, not making eye contact with Liam.
“You know,” he said, “we could just…”
I lifted a hand, stopping him.
The last person I’d want to work with on a thing like this was my ex. The man would find every one of my buttons and push them until I combusted. He knew it too. If he was even remotely interested in saying yes to this, that was the reason why.
I walked down the stadium steps and over to Kim and Elizabeth, who had scooted to the side of the gym and were engrossed in conversation.
“Excuse me.” I raised a hand as I approached.
They turned to me, wearing sugary-sweet smiles.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but…” I cleared my throat. “No offense, really, but I’m not exactly great at…festivals. I think it’s best if I just back out of this. My schedule has been pretty crazy—”
Elizabeth tilted her head and frowned. “But we have you signed up to work a game table with Mr. Wells.”
Perfect timing. “Ah, yes. That’s another thing. He and I are divorced. Although we’re on good terms, it’s not exactly ideal—”
Kim stepped in, wearing that ridiculously kind smile. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Wells, but it’s too late to swap roles.”
I huffed out a breath and held up the packet where the festival’s date was emblazoned. “The festival isn’t for another six weeks.”
“Yes, but these things require months and months of planning. It would be tricky to swap roles.”
Tricky? Ma’am, this was my livelihood. My mental health was at stake here. Working with Liam for six weeks equated to a deep-sea fishing trip. All nausea, rough waves, flushed cheeks, and a suspiciously fishy aroma in the air.
“But we understand,” Kim said, using the same tone I affected when Dallas had used an entire bag of powdered sugar to create a winter wonderland. “Surely we can move things around. Though your boys were very excited when I mentioned that you two would be working together.”
My heart stuttered. “They were?”
The boys rarely brought up the topic of my relationship, or lack thereof, with their dad. They’d ask an occasional question, but I made a point to keep my answers brief and firm and neutral, leaving no room for negotiating.
They loved Liam, and I was glad for it. Regardless of our history, he was a wonderful dad. The last thing I wanted to do was break down our reasons for divorce. I’d never want to sway them one way or the other.
So it was odd to hear that they were excited about the two of us working together. They were so young when we separated that I doubted they had any memories of life before then. Why would they comment on this now?
Would it upset them if we bowed out?
“Oh, yes. Especially Miles. He gushed about how wonderful you and Mr. Wells both are. He was thrilled at the prospect of you helping at the festival. Went on and on about how well you two would set something up together.”
Put them first.
That was the silent promise I’d made to myself and my boys long ago. And I did, to the best of my ability. Though I never expected putting them first would lead to working side by side with my ex.
