I roll my eyes. “Sometimes…”
“So who’s she talking about?”
“Tess,” I point at the perfectly styled blonde woman who just walked in with her heinous son, TJ, at her side.
“Whoa. Stepford much?”
“Yes, but that’s not the worst of it. She’s just...judgy. I’ve been coming here for two months with Rose, and she always calls me Willow and forgets I’m not the nanny.”
“Are you fucking with me?” Knox hisses.
“No, but jeez, keep your voice down and cool it with the swear words. This is toddler story time, Knox, not a frat party.”
“Are you sure?” He nods his head in Cole’s direction. “Cause if you put a backwards ballcap on that kid’s head, I bet he wouldn’t get carded.”
I laugh, despite myself. Resisting Knox’s charms is every bit as hard as I thought it would be. Even that first day in the auditorium of our high school, I was drawn to him. I couldn’t resist back then, but I have to now. I just have to consciously reject my attraction to him and my impulses to laugh at his jokes.
Easy…
“When does this thing start? Or do they all just crawl around sharing germs for an hour?”
I check the clock on the wall. “In about five minutes.”
“Cool. I gotta pi— use the restroom. Any idea where it is?”
I look around. “The women’s room is over there, by the door, but…”
“The men’s room is in the back, past those shelves,” Lorie intervenes. “Although last week, one of the little boys took a leak in that fake ficus, so…”
Knox laughs. “Eh, maybe I’ll try not to get arrested this month, you know?”
I’m horrified at his joke, but Lorie just laughs.“Don’t box yourself in, hon. It’s only the 8th.”
“Fair point,” Knox smiles and saunters over toward the restroom.
And yes, I watch his ass while he walks.
I said I was going to consciously reject my attraction to him. I never said I was going to pretend it doesn’t exist.
* * *
Knox
I find the restroom with no trouble, do my business, and wash my hands. Pushing open the door, I take a deep breath and lean against the wall. Just being here is a trip. It’s a family event, no doubt. And I’m used to bars and frat house basements, not circle time and board books. I can’t say I’ve darkened the door of a library often, but when I did, it was the academic one on campus for a study group.
The whole dynamic is throwing me off, mostly because it’s primarily moms in their thirties and their toddlers—two groups of people I spend little-to-no time with. There are a couple of dads here and even a dad couple. But again, these folks are clearly not my speed. The two dads look to be in their forties, and I vaguely recognize the bearded one as the prof from my Intro to Communication class freshman year. The other guy looks like an accountant or tax attorney or something equally stable and boring.
Willa and I are the youngest people here, by far. The only other teenager in the place is the pimply-faced kid shelving books. And yea, I turn twenty in a few days, but I suddenly feel young and naïve and inexperienced. Like I’m gonna walk out there and get quizzed on my parenting knowledge. I’d fail, for sure. These people clearly know what they’re doing. They carry diaper bags and sippy cups and say phrases like “use your words”. I was nearly bested by a car seat buckle, and I swear like it’s going out of style. Hell. Willa’s my age too, and she’s a pro.
For a second, I’m half-tempted to bolt. To just shoot off a text that says I have to go, and then park my ass on a barstool at Wolfie’s for a couple hours. At least there, I know what to do, not that it’s a major accomplishment or anything. Even I know sitting on a barstool chatting up half naked girls to the backbeat of staticky club music is not hard to do.
But it’s what I know.
What I don’t know is how to be a dad. Or a co-parent. It’s not like I had any decent examples to follow.
But I guess that means I know what not to do? And at the top of that list is walking away. Sure, it’d be easier to slink out of here and hang out at the bar for a while. There’s no doubt Willa would gladly give me the out. It’s like she’s waiting for me to fuck up or check out.
But I’m the child of two parents who couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. My dad ghosted when he found out I existed. My mom stuck around, but there’s not a damn maternal or nurturing instinct in her. She’s a narcissist through and through.
