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More often than not, she was a grouch ball, but I loved the lady to death. So did the boys. She claimed she hated children and that she was “grateful that Walter got the snip.” But on the rare occasion that I had to bring the boys in, she’d bring out candy she kept stashed for them in the back and would tell them stories about her younger days.
Once in the school’s pickup line, I wiped the mascara from under my eyes and chugged what was left of my now-cold coffee in hopes that it would give me an energy boost.
I hadn’t always been this way. At least I didn’t think so. A few things used to be marginally easier. The financial side, mostly. But when funds were low, my sleep, my mental health, and my ability to properly caffeinate myself were all inadequate.
A car honked behind me, sending my heart leaping in my chest. Cringing, I waved a hand in apology and tapped the accelerator, causing one of the many toys in the back to fall to the floorboard. A muffled get over here! rang out in the car. The boys had recently tumbled headfirst into a Mortal Kombat phase. Sometimes I missed Elmo.
Ahead, the boys were talking to their friends, and as I pulled up and they caught sight of me, smiles overtook their faces. There was that boost of energy, like a defibrillator to the chest. Like I’d eaten the mushroom on Mario and was rewarded with super speed. Or as if I had chugged a red bull and then chased it with a couple of 5-Hour Energys. A bolster of vitality straight to my veins, awakening me. By now, my body had the routine down pat.
I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of watching their faces light up like that. I dreaded the day they thought they were too cool for me. When I’d have to drop them off a block away and pretend like I didn’t know them if there were other kids around.
For now, I’d hold on to the way my sons ran to my car like I was their saving grace.
My back doors flew open, then Dallas and Miles each took their signature seat.
“Hi, Mom!” they said in unison as backpacks, lunch boxes, and tennis shoes were thrown about the back.
“Hey, guys. What was the best thing that happened today?”
I’d discovered a couple of years ago that if I asked questions like “How was your day?” or “Did you have a good day?” I’d get one-word answers like “Good” and “Yes” and nothing more.
When I’d begun asking about the best part of their day, it was like opening a whole new world. For Miles anyway. Dallas would talk my ear off no matter what.
“We watched this movie in science about penguins. Did you know they can blow up their—”
“I did a backflip off the monkey bars and then—”
They rambled over each other so adorably it was hard not to giggle at their excitement. With a glance back to make sure they were both buckled, I edged forward, ready to pull out of the car-rider line, but I was stopped by a yellow polka-dotted flash waving me down.
Ms. Kim, their fifth-grade teacher and a ray of sunshine embodied, raised her hand, signaling me to stop. Then she clicked her perfectly white Converses over to my window.
I said a silent prayer in hopes that she wouldn’t realize that I, like the boys, had thrown off my shoes the minute I’d climbed into the car and was driving in blue socks with yellow ducks on them. I blamed the Dick’s kid for this.
“Kim! How are you?” I asked, mustering every last drop of excitement that hadn’t yet been wrung out of me.
What was it with people telling young moms that we couldn’t pour from empty cups? Watch me. My cup was dry as a desert, but the water was flowing anyway.
She smiled, pink cheeks lifted. In her sweet, southern accent, she greeted me. “Hey, Mari. If I was any better, I’d look like you and have a million dollars.”
In the rearview mirror, Miles and Dallas mouthed the words exactly as she said them. So that was a regular saying from her. Got it.
A fake laugh I hoped sounded at least a little believable escaped me. She’d moved here from Alabama. Or maybe it was Tennessee. And I didn’t understand most of the phrases that came out of her mouth. Regardless, she always made my kids a priority. So the least I could do was fake a laugh and pretend to be charmed by her southern charisma.
She sighed softly. “But really, could you meet with me after school tomorrow? Around four thirty?”
Suddenly hit with a niggling suspicion, I whipped around and eyed Dallas.
Other than the occasional volunteer situation, I’d only had to attend a couple of after-school meetings. And each one had been scheduled because my more adventurous child was in trouble. It wasn’t usually anything too terrible. Once he’d shimmied up a drainpipe and climbed onto the roof. Another time, he changed the morning announcements so they’d play “Super Freak”instead of the national anthem. It was mostly harmless fun.
I raised a brow at him, silently asking, Anything I need to know about?
He threw his arms out and huffed. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything. Not this time…I don’t think?” He tilted his head and looked up at Ms. Kim for affirmation.
She laughed, dainty hands falling to her stomach. “No, no. No one’s in trouble.”
Dallas let out a phew behind me.
“Just a quick parent meeting so we can discuss the upcoming events for the year.”
