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She handed it to me, and I somehow managed to thank her with a smile.
I looked out at the eager faces and forced myself to focus. These kids deserved a great time, regardless of my personal drama.
A couple of kids who’d been here when Ethan read the book added foreshadowing to some scenes, encouraging Josh. Their investment in the story touched me. I asked what they thought might happen next, sparking wonderful discussions.
The children’s enthusiasm proved infectious, and somehow, sharing this book that was connected to Ethan eased a bit of the tension in my chest.
Still, I needed to talk to him.
I headed to the office for a moment alone and dropped into my chair, pulling out my phone.
My texts to Ethan remained unread.
Since several hours had passed, I took a chance with a new message.
Andre: Ethan, I know I messed up. And I know why you were late. Please let’s talk.
I stared at the screen, willing a response to appear.
Nothing. It stayed in Delivered status.
The silence cut deeper than any angry words could have.
Seeking distraction, I checked my email. Weekends typically brought few messages, just a few newsletters and junk mail. But one subject line jumped out.
Library Association of America: Opportunity to Discuss
I opened it immediately.
Hi Andre,
Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, and especially Pride Sunday. But I wanted to get this into your inbox. My staff and I would love to schedule a call with you tomorrow, if possible, to discuss an idea we’ve had. Please let us know.
Happy Pride!
Stella Bradley
Program Chair
My first instinct was to share this with Ethan. The email didn’t specify whether it was related to the award, but it should’ve thrilled me. Everything was muted, though, since the person I wanted to show the email to wasn’t talking to me at all.
After suggesting meeting times in my reply, I headed to Red’s. Tea and food might help. Maybe a side order of perspective too.
Mickey looked up as I entered, his usual warm smile subdued. “Comfort food time?”
I nodded, sliding onto a counter stool rather than my usual booth. The diner was peaceful since it was still too early for the dinner crowd.
“I screwed up.” I stared into the tea Mickey placed before me.
He stood across from me, hands on the counter. “I winced when I heard how you talked to him on the radio.” He paused and I held his gaze, trying to encourage him to continue. “Brought back memories of high school.”
Anger at myself welled up and threatened tears. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again, wouldn’t treat anyone like that. My focus was on getting everything so fucking perfect. I forgot what matters.”
“Which is?”
“People.” My breath came out shaky. “Ethan was helping someone who needed him, and I treated him like he shouldn’t have taken that time. I wouldn’t listen to his explanation. Now he won’t answer my texts.”
Mickey slid a plate with a grilled cheese in front of me. “Eat. I’m guessing you haven’t had a bite since breakfast. Then we’ll figure out how to fix it.”
