“I’m kidding, Winnie-Bug. Aren’t you supposed to be at your boring meeting already?”
“You mean the meeting that wasyouridea? Yeah, I am.”
“Hey, I suggested getting s-c-r-e-w-e-d first. Not my fault you’re boring, sister.” He ran his eyes over me, from head to toe, and sighed. “You, my dear friend, are a wreck.”
I got back in the car, told them both goodbye through the open window, and rushed out of his neighborhood, pulling onto the two-lane highway that led out of town. The old Catholic church sat just on the edge of town, long abandoned by the religious. It’d been repurposed into a meeting space downstairs with a bar upstairs. Sacrilege? Probably. Did anyone in town care? Not a bit.
Once my old car hit the higher speed limit, I heard a weird sound that sent a spike of anxiety through my body. There was no way I could afford to get any work done on the car if anything broke down. The day I’d had didn’t allow for anything else to go wrong, so I turned up the radio and hoped for the best.
Church, as the bar had creatively been named, was already busy when I parked outside in the gravel lot. Another wave of anxiety hit me when I thought of seeing anyone I knew while running inside to the meeting. I’d gotten pretty good at avoiding most people, because then I got to avoid the questions and comments, too.
Gravel crunched under my boots as I hurried to the side of the old building and let myself in through the door that led downstairs. I’d gone to one cutthroat PTA meeting there before, so I knew where to go.
When I saw a sheet of paper stuck to the only closed door, I didn’t bother reading it. I just let myself in. The single mom’s meeting was supposed to help me find balance or something, and I needed it now more than ever. I hurried into the room, talking to fill the sudden silence as I rushed to find a seat with my eyes on the old carpet.
“I am so sorry I’m late. I’m sorry to interrupt. Things got a little crazy today and I meant to be here early, with treats. I’m sorry. I’m—” I stopped talking as I sank into a chair and looked up to find myself facing three men. Not a single mom in sight.
It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, it seemed. I slumped farther into the chair and groaned loudly, winding up for a breakdown.
2
Winnie
“I’minthewrongroom. OfcourseI’m in the wrong room. After the day I’ve had, I’m surprised I’m in the right church. Or not-church. Whatever.” I scrubbed my hands down my face and pushed them into my hair, laughing a little too shrilly as a couple of cheerios came tumbling out. “I’m so sorry I’m interrupting y’all’s meeting, and I’m never this rude, but I think I’m going to scream if I don’t get this out.
“I just had the day from h-e-l-l. I’m an art teacher who isn’t allowed to show color in her room. I’m working under a principal who not only scares the daylights out of me, but I’m pretty sure she hates kids and teachers. She definitely hates art. Jeremy wiped his paint all over me today, and then another kid said it was because my dress looks like a napkin. I tripped in front of class of fifth graders. Do you know how ruthless they are? I think I’m being bullied but I don’t know who to tell, becauseI’mthe teacher.”
The guys looked at me and balked. I sucked in a sharp breath that sounded hysterical, even to me, but I was too far gone to stop my monologue.
“I have had fruit punch and cereal and so many other things spilled and thrown on me today. My seven-year-old is more comfortable swearing than I am, and a woman chasing a cat flipped me off. And that’s just today. That’s not even scratching the surface of the mortgage I can’t afford because my ex decided he didn’t want a family, six years intohavinga family. Of course, hewantedthe large house with the four bedrooms when he was still pretending. My boss, Satan, hates me, and would fire me if I so much as walked in a minute later. She doesn’t care that I can barely afford my mortgage as it is.
“And Birdie is growing so fast. She needs new clothes and shoes. She wants to attend Pride in the city with her uncle, and everything costs money. I think I’m a bad mom. I can’t send her to the nice places she wants to go. I can’t afford to take her to Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods. Do I have a plan for how to make things better? Of course, not. I had a plan once, and it blew up in my face, and I haven’t had two seconds to think since then. My ex, however, has had time to explore the world, the lower half of Nashville. Oh, and he’s decided that sex with me is easier and he’d like to continue that, whilenothaving a relationship with his daughter. I never thought I’d have to fend off d-i-c-k pics from my ex-husband. Who evenwantsthose? It’s like looking at a frail tree that lost all its bark.”
One of the guys shifted and put his hand over his mouth, hiding what I was pretty sure was a laugh.
“No, itisfunny. If it were happening to anyone else, the pervy ex part, I’d giggle along in the break room and close my eyes when they passed the phone around to expose the picture, but it’s happening tome,and if I don’t know the pic is coming, I can’t close my eyes.” I tugged my fingers through my hair and froze when I couldn’t get my right hand any farther than a few inches down from my scalp. I touched whatever was stopping my way and groaned. “And I now realize that Birdie spit her gumandfruit punch into my hair when I slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting that cat. Great. I’ll be partially bald to go with the bruise I’m sure is forming on my forehead.”
Another one of them held his hands up in my direction, like I was Exhibit A. "See. This is why we don't want more kids. They're kind of terrible. Gumandfruit punch."
I stood up and pouted as more cheerios fell to the ground with the smallest of sounds that felt massive in the silent room. Sighing heavily, I circled my chair and gripped the back of it. “I’m so sorry for barging in on your meeting and ranting. It was rude, and I promise I’m not normally like this. I’m just going to see myself out.”
All three men stood at once, all three of them towering over me. The one who’d been fighting a laugh stepped forward, a warm smile on his face. “Stay. We normally only get together to drink a little and complain about the shit our kids pulled on us this week, anyway. It’s our own informal single dad’s club. Seems like you could use a little of that kind of meeting time, too. I’m Sawyer.”
I realized too late that I’d barged into a meeting with three of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life. I nearly swallowed my tongue when the haze of despair cleared from my eyes and I actually saw the men I’d just been ranting at.Holy muscles, Hot Dad.I was positive if the single mom’s meeting found out that heaven existed in the church basement on Tuesday nights, there’d be a riot.
“Jack.” Another one nodded at me with a raised eyebrow, his lips only halfway turned up in a smile.
“And I’m Beck. The single mom’s meeting was last night, I think. Was that what you were looking for?” He held out a heavily tattooed hand and winked. “Or were you hoping to find the recovering pyromaniac group? I think that one moved to Fridays.”
I lost my hand in his much larger one, then quickly pulled back and wrapped my arms around myself, feeling self-conscious and out of place. “I should go. This is y’all’s thing. I’m imposing.”
Sawyer gently took my shoulders and led me back to my chair. Once I was in it, he sat across from me and nodded at my head. “I can help with that. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to get gum out of hair.”
I reached up and touched my hair, wincing as I pulled out another cheerio. I was growing more and more embarrassed as time eased on and I thought about all that I’d said, but they seemed set on me staying. “Um, sure. Thank you. I could try to do it when I get home, but I would probably end up just cutting it out.”
Beck sat in the seat closest to me, his huge body leaning into my space. “That would be a shame. I have a daughter, Olive. I’ve seen Sawyer get gum out of her hair in no time. Let the man show off his weird talent.”
Jack sat down and crossed one ankle over his other knee. Looking like the picture of ease, he folded his arms behind his head to watch me. His T-shirt sleeves stretched and pulled higher, revealing strong arms and just a hint of dark underarm hair. His inner arms were lighter than the tan that colored him everywhere else I could see, making me think he worked, or played, outside. Veins stood out in his forearms, and his muscles jumped as I watched. I got the impression he was teasing me and quickly looked away.