He’s quiet for a moment. “Nothing yet. We’ll talk to them together. Call Aspen.”
He hangs up, and all I can do is sit and cry. How? How can this be happening? They just wanted a weekend away.
I dial Aspen’s number.
“Hi, friend.”
“I need you. Right now.”
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter 1
~Natasha~
One month later…
“Carbon monoxide poisoning.”
I keep my back turned to the two busybodies gossiping in the produce section. As if the past month hasn’t been hard enough, I get this just about everywhere I go. Murmurs, whispers behind my back. Looks of pity. Words of sympathy.
Leaving the house has been pure torture to begin with, but adding this onto the stress of it makes me want to hide under the covers and never come out.
“So sad,” the other one, Misty, says. “They just fell asleep and never woke up.”
Just when I’m about to turn to the women and say, “Really? I’m right here,” my phone rings, grabbing my attention.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tash, this is Hilda Smith at the school. I’m afraid I need to see you and Mr. Waters in my office as soon as you can get here.”
“Is something wrong? Is one of the twins hurt?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. We have a behavioral issue to discuss. I’d really prefer to talk to you and Sam together.”
I blow out a breath and stare at the basket full of groceries. “I can be there in about thirty minutes.”
“I’ll see you then.”
She hangs up, and I resign myself to not finishing today’s grocery run. Instead, I make my way to the checkout.
Once the groceries are paid for, I hurry home to put the perishables in the fridge, leaving the rest for later.
This isn’t the first time in the past month we’ve been called in for a meeting with the school. Both kids have had a tough time adjusting.
Hell, I’m having a tough time, and I’m over thirty.
Just as I pull into the parking lot, I see Sam parking his blue truck. He waits for me on the sidewalk.
“I always feel like I’m the one in trouble,” he says grimly as we walk toward the front door of the building.
It’s summer, so the kids aren’t in school yet. They start kindergarten in a few weeks, but Monica enrolled them in preschool all summer, and we thought it would be best if we tried to keep their schedules as close to normal as possible.
And, I can admit, I need the few hours during the day to get caught up on everything that I can’t see to when the two of them are underfoot.
And, yes, that makes me feel inadequate and horrible.
“If Kevin’s stealing again, I’ll kill him,” I mutter.
Sam doesn’t reply, just takes my hand in that patient, sturdy way he has that tells me everything will be okay.
“I’ll take them tonight,” he says.
“It’s not your night,” I remind him. “We’ll be okay.”
“Let’s find out what’s going on before you turn me down on the offer,” he suggests as we reach the office doorway. “Hi, Hilda.”
The older woman, who happened to teach me in middle school, glances up and smiles. “Hello, you two. Come on in.”
I have a feeling the warm welcome is only to butter us up for what’s about to happen.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” I say immediately, sitting on the edge of the seat as if I’m ready to take off running at any second. “What happened?”
“It’s been a series of events today, I’m afraid,” she says. “Kelsey won’t talk.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Sam asks.
“She won’t speak. Won’t answer questions or even talk to her friends. She just shakes her head and looks at the floor or ground. Her teacher says this was not the case yesterday.”
“It wasn’t the case this morning, either,” I say and rub my fingers across my forehead. “What else?”
“Kevin peed on the playground during recess.”
Sam and I just stare at the woman. Finally, Sam laughs.
I hang my head in my hands.
“Listen, you two,” Hilda continues, “I know that it’s only been a month since the twins lost their parents, and that you both are doing the very best you can. I can’t even begin to imagine the grief and pain you’re all going through. But I have to be honest here. We just can’t have this behavior continue. It’s disruptive to the rest of the students. And, frankly, it’s difficult for the teachers to handle.”
“I get it.” I sigh and glance at Sam, who’s no longer laughing. “Can you please give us another chance? Just one more. It’s Friday. Let us take the weekend to talk to the kids and see if we can get some of this resolved so they’re not acting out at school. I know they enjoy it here. They talk about it all evening.”
Hilda sits back and watches us. I can see it written all over her face that she’d already made up her mind to kick them out.