A look of sheer horror must cross my face.
“Calm down, mamacita. I’m not suggesting you let her stay the weekend. But what about a couple of hours?”
“Like a test? That feels like a trap.”
“Not at all like a test. You’re right—you don’t want to set him up to see how hard things are just so you can get rid of him for good or make him feel inadequate. But from what you’ve said, he’s really good with Rose. Plus, he’ll have his boys as backup. And bonus, they get to bond, but you don’t have to be there. It’s probably a good idea to let them begin forming a relationship without you as the connecting piece.
The timer on the stove dings, letting me know I need to put water on to boil and sauté the meatballs. “You know.” I say, heading into the kitchen, “that’s actually a really good idea.”
Ian laughs. “I’ve been known to have those every now and again.” Just then, Rose throws a block and bonks him on the head. He patiently redirects her, and I make a note to ask Knox if he’s free next Tuesday night.
He said he’s all in. I hope he was telling the truth.
Chapter 16
Knox
The driveto Annapolis takes just over an hour, so I swing by a drive-thru for a burger, fries, and a Coke when I get into town. I pull into Montclair Elementary, the same school I went to, and chow down. It’s weird to me how tiny this place is because it always seemed so huge when I was little.
I wonder what school Rose will go to when the time comes. I don’t know anything about the school district Bainbridge U is in—it’s never mattered to me before. And I’ll have graduated by the time Rose starts kindergarten. Unless I go straight through for grad school and my doctorate, but none of that sounds remotely appealing. Before I know it, I’m stressing out about finding a nice place with a yard in the right school district. Jesus. I need to chill. I don’t even have a car with a back seat, and I’m pretty sure kindergarten registration is a worry for another day.
I run my hand along the dashboard of my cherry red 718 Cayman T Porsche. I called a dealer in D.C. this morning and they quoted a more than fair price for it, so Ty and I are heading that way this weekend to trade in my sports car for a dad-mobile. I’ve loved this car since my grandparents gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday, but I don’t think I’ll be sad to see it go. Like a lot of the vestiges of my old life, it used to be really important to me, but it’s outgrown its usefulness. I’m not my number one priority anymore—Willa and Rose are.
Well, Willa, Rose, and Ronin. I love that kid, and I always have. Even self-absorbed thirteen-year-old me could tell that Ronin would grow up just like I did unless I intervened. So I became the world’s best big brother.
I love being away at school and living with my boys, but I hate that I had to leave my brother behind. Guilt nags at me, so I make the drive back to see him at least a couple times a month. I go to his karate meets and his basketball games, and, like tonight, his holiday pageants.Yea, I remember my mother’s warning about staying away from my brother, but I’m choosing not to pay her any attention. While it wouldn’t be totally out of character for her to cause a scene in the middle of an elementary school holiday pageant, it’s unlikely. Not that she’d have a change of heart or an attack of conscience. No, she just wouldn’t want to draw negative attention to herself with an audience.
The parking lot is filling up, so I gather my trash and stuff it back in the brown paper bag. Showing my ticket at the door, I walk into the gym-turned-auditorium and scan the rows of people in search of my mom.Not that I want to sit with her—just the opposite. She’s nowhere to be found, so I grab an empty aisle seat and flip through the green andred program I was given. Ronin’s in second grade, so his class will perform about halfway through the program, right before intermission. Nice.
The lights dim, and there’s rustling behind the curtain on stage. Ms. Velez, who was no spring chicken when I was here, takes the mic and welcomes us all to Montclair Elementary’s Holiday Pageant. She reminds us not to use flash photography and makes sure we all know where the restrooms are.
The crowd quiets down as we hear the stompy little footsteps of twenty-five kindergarteners as they clop up on the risers. The curtain parts and even my withered black heart melts a little at the sight of all those kids with crooked tinsel halos. They sing a few songs, but only half of them know the words. It doesn’t matter. They are adorable, and we all clap like we’re a bunch of tweenagers at a Harry Styles show. The first graders come on next, and they’re all decked out like Whos from Whoville, and, I gotta say, their show is even better.
Finally, it’s time for Ronin’s class. The Charlie Brown holiday music comes on and the second graders all troop onto the stage. Ms. Velez picks up the rear and sets a miserable-looking Christmas tree at center stage. They sing their little hearts out, and once again, I wish Willa and Rose were with me. But honestly, in hindsight, it’s for the best Willa said no. Sure, I’d love holding Rose on my lap and introducing her to Ronin, but that would also mean they’d meet my mother, and that’s not happening any time soon.
The curtain closes while they exit the stage, and the next group enters. I duck into the aisle, out the side door, and back around to the little staging area they have set up. The performers check in with their teachers before rushing over to meettheir parents. And there, standing along the red brick hallway, is my mother. Keith’s nowhere in sight, so I’m guessing he’s away on business. That seems to be his thing. While I can’t blame him for taking every opportunity to be in a different state than my mother, it’s shitty for Ronin.
“Knox!” I hear my name and turn just in time to reach out and catch Ronin as he leaps into my arms.
“Bro-nin!” Whit coined the nickname, and my brother loves it. He laughs as I wrap him in a tickle-hug and finish off with a quick noogie.
“Did you see me, Knox? They had to move me to the way back row cause I’m the tallest kid in my class except for Tanner. But his hair is all spiky, so I don’t think that counts, right, Knox?”
As the kid who always sat in the front row for school pictures, I don’t feel qualified to answer this question, but I tell him, “right,” anyway.
“Knox, you didn’t need to make the drive for a five-minute performance,” my mother chides as she walks over to us, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
“Yea, actually, I did.” I tell her. “And it was worth every mile. You were awesome, Bro-nin.”
My brother looks up at me with adoration. “Thanks!I gotta go give my scarf to Tanner’s mom. It was my costume, but we can’t keep ‘em because they gotta use ‘em next year, except they have to wash ‘em first.”
“It’s a plan, bud,” I say as I watch him dash across the room, dodging adults expertly as he weaves his way over to the costume drop-off bin.
“Keeping out of trouble this week?” my mother asks, looking me up and down. “I’m surprised your anklet isn’t beeping up a storm, what with you being so far from home. Doesn’t this violate your house arrest?”
“I’m not on house arrest,” I roll my eyes. “I have some community service to do, that’s it.”
“I’m shocked that you can assault an innocent bystander and your only penance is ‘some community service’. You were arrested, for God’s sake.
