Work is keeping me busy as usual. Mondays are always the most challenging, with inclement weather making the day even more difficult. Summer monsoons are creeping their way into the work week, painting a dreary overcast backdrop to an already miserable day. 

Rain or shine however, the framing lumber needs to be erected in a timely fashion if I am to fulfill my duties by the clients’ deadline.    

Naturally, things continue to go wrong for the better part of the day; Failure to adhere to supposedly “minor” details within the plans, two by fours being placed at wrong angles, and employees deciding that a few sprinkles are enough to call it a day at 1:30 pm.

Frustrated beads of sweat begin to accumulate under my hard hat. I need to hire a new crew. People that know what the fuck they are doing and actually want to work.

My phone vibrates with a text from Candace. I pick it up and glance at the ominous message:

I am on to you

What the heck is this?! She is on to me? 

I shake my head and laugh out loud. I’m curious as to what she thinks she knows, if anything. I have gotten really good at covering my tracks over the years. Did I slip up at some point? I wonder.

“Hayes…”

“Yeah?” I turn toward the foreman, Tony. 

He’s dangling a set of plans beneath two clumsy hands. “Can we take a look at this real quick?”

I’m unable to focus. I need to speak with Candace immediately and find out what she knows. I have to make a run for it. I check out the plans and answer his simple, incredibly stupid question, then create the excuse that I need to pick up my son (even though I am fully aware that Candace and Laura assumed that role for me well over a year ago). I head to the truck and pull out of the unfinished dirt driveway, cursing at the sound of dirt flying up in wads and pelting the sides of my freshly washed vehicle. 

What could she possibly know?! The thought ruminates, circles like a hungry shark in the middle of a murky and unforgiving sea. I picture her waiting for me with her hands on her hips. She is angry and disappointed. 

I grip the steering wheel firmer. Is this the end for us?

I am a nervous wreck by the time I reach the house, but to my surprise and frustration, her car is not in the driveway. I think for a brief moment.

“Duh!” I say out loud. “She’s left to pick up Adrian.”

Suddenly, I am alerted to the sound of a giant black figure swooping down right in front of me. A raven lands gracefully on the hood of my truck and turns to look at me with sharp piercing eyes. It blinks slowly and deliberately, just watching me like it wants to peck my eyeballs out. Then, it lets out a single squawk before taking off dramatically, its broad wings flapping so fiercely against the air, it sounds like it’s being crushed. It leaves behind a dark and threatening aura, the kind that reeks of impending doom.

A random encounter…

Instead of waiting for Candace to return, I make the impulsive decision to head to Laura’s workplace. For some reason, unbeknownst to me in the present moment, I feel a strong urge to see her. 

Maybe I need to take my mind off of the situation? Or perhaps I just need to talk to someone whom I felt so close to at one point in time.

I head toward Mini Pines Preschool with the hope of snagging an opportunity to stop in and make small talk to calm my nerves. 

As I make my way down the little dirt road leading to the school grounds, I gasp in horror when I realize that Candace is heading straight towards me in the family SUV. 

What was she doing at the preschool? Did she speak to Laura about me?!

I try to calm myself as she makes eye contact with me, and proceeds to roll down the window.

 “What are you doing here?” She lowers her sunglasses to flash a look of suspicion. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” I blurt out. There is a slight shakiness in my voice that I’m certain she is registering. My nerves are getting the best of me at this point, and hiding them doesn’t seem possible. 

She shakes her head slowly, and I feel my heart sink. 

“You have a ton of explaining to do, Anthony…”

I pause, locked in defeat. I have no words to mask my intentions. I’m not even sure what they are, if I’m being completely honest. 

Why am I here?

…Fuck.

“I’ll see you back at the house,” I say quickly, as though there is nothing at all to be concerned with. Then I begin to roll up the window and proceed to drive forward. As I do so, I realize she is stepping out of her vehicle and heading in my direction, preventing me from driving forward. 

What the heck is she doing? She opens my driver door without hesitation and slaps me so hard and so abruptly, I am taken back to when I was nine years old laying on the hot asphalt of the basketball courts. My head is pounding from being punched in the face by a kid nearly twice my age. 

You fucking cunt.

In shock, and with the left side of my face throbbing, I leap from my vehicle, reaching for her throat without thinking. My mind goes completely numb, the rage consuming me whole, with my frenzied hands taking over as I pin her to the hood of my truck in an effort to hold her down. The anger raging within me has completely taken over. Her eyes grow wide with terror, and we lock eyes for several moments before I realize how incredibly tight I am gripping her. I am compelled to loosen my hold, suddenly.

“Don’t you ever touch me like that again, you bitch!” My body releases and my focus shifts, trying desperately to hone in on my breathing, just as I had learned in anger management class. 

In…out… in…out…I slowly release my anger. She finally gets up and off my hood, then staggers to her vehicle without a backwards glance. Her door slams, and she drives off slowly. I’m in a world of shock over what just happened.

It wasn’t meant to come to this.

Suddenly, lightning bolts of fear are jolting through my body. I fear for my future. My career. The rights to see my children. Brief segments from various random memories are strobing through my psyche in a fitful panic. I am completely devoured with thoughts of her destroying me. 

What have I done?! 

I am in full panic mode now, incapable of making a single decision. I sit in my truck ruminating on distressing thoughts for so long, parents are beginning to make their way around my vehicle and down the dirt road to pick up their toddlers. I realize it must be at least 3 pm. I start the truck to check the time.

3:27

I still can’t procure my next move, so I continue toward the preschool and find a spot to park inconspicuously out of eye-shot. I sit there parked for another agonizing half hour, planning what to say and do when I work up the courage to confront Laura. 

Finally, when it seems that most, if not all of the parents have left with their children, I decide to head inside. I meander slowly through the gated play area. The smell of fake plastic turf hits my nose, forcing my nostrils to flare. Rain begins to fall delicately around me. The play set looks old and worn, practically falling apart. 

This is not to code…I think to myself, my brain frantically searching for familiar and comforting territory. I start to compose a mental plan for building her a new one, one made of sturdy wooden materials, with proper swings. Everything will be safe and sound. Then I realize that these are toddlers to age four she is dealing with, not older kids. She would need something of smaller proportions, lower to the ground for safety. My mind begins to race, when I suddenly hear her voice from within the classroom.

“Brianna,” she speaks softly. Her voice is nurturing and sweet. “Your daddy will be here soon. Do you have all your things packed and ready to go?” 

I decide to step inside at that moment, and she looks up at me like she’s seen a ghost.

“Anthony?” She immediately turns her back to me and starts to make her way to the desk in the farthest corner of the room, as if she’s forgotten something. She is fearful. That much is clear. 

I look around for a moment. There are primitive-looking finger paintings done obviously by her students, and posters illustrating things such as cleanliness, and how to be a responsible citizen in the classroom. The room is filled with an abundance of bright natural light, the windows covered with sheer, flowing curtains. There are plants, healthy and vibrant, placed randomly throughout the space. It feels warm and inviting. 

She has created a nice space here, I think to myself. She is not impressed at the sight of me, though. 

“What are you doing here?”

I stand before her feeling helpless, but then decide to adjust my attitude. “Do you need any help?” 

“Not really,” she says curtly. Her tone is mildly sarcastic.

Embarrassed, I make my way to the sink area to wash my hands. Her soap is about to run out, so I search the cupboard beneath me for more to replenish the dispenser.

“Can I help you with something?” She seems to be growing annoyed now.

I can’t find the soap, so I stand up inquisitively, taking notice of the little girl, Brianna, who is watching me in awe, as though I were a freak circus act. I’ve come through to entertain her, while she waits for her parents, obviously.

“Is she leaving soon?” I ask as subtly as possible, a fake smile plastered across my nervous face.

“Yes, I think so.” 

“I need to talk to you about—” I stop myself before saying Candace’s name. I dare not bring up anything that just happened between us. “I need to talk to you about our son.”

“Oh…” She looks taken back by this, and as soon as I have a chance to find somewhere to sit atop one of the many low-to-the-ground wobbly tables about the room, Brianna’s father is making his way inside to pick her up.  He nods to greet me suspiciously, as if he knows way too much, and waves goodbye to Laura.

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Laura.” 

She smiles and waves back. “Have a nice evening!”

I love her in this moment. She is captivating in her slim gray pencil skirt, her delicate white blouse tucked in neatly, dirty blonde hair flowing and framing her perfect, beaming smile. 

I think I’m falling for her all over again. She’s much too good for me.

She turns to look at me with concerned green eyes. “…What about our son?”

I scramble to find the words as she sits down directly in front of me.  I suddenly feel the urge to be completely honest with her. I can’t handle this bullshit anymore. I switch tactics and decide to cut right to the chase. “I put my hands on Candace just now.”

She looks confused. “…You what?”

“She slapped me, and I—I snapped. I couldn’t hold myself back. I got angry and put my hands on her throat, pinned her down on my truck. I got so angry.” I return to Laura’s gaze, my mind struggling to interpret her reaction. “I didn’t hurt her though.”

She doesn’t look convinced by my story. “You’re joking right?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Wow…” She can’t even look at me now. “That’s not like you at all. How on earth did that happen?!” 

“She’s accusing me of cheating on her!”

Laura’s look of disgust turns to even more disgust, and she scoffs, “What did you expect? Once a cheater, always a cheater, right?!”

Her reaction doesn’t surprise me. After all, she has been wronged by me more times than she would really care to know. 

“Anthony…” She looks very concerned for me now. “When is it going to end?”

I shuffle back and forth awkwardly on the squeaky table. I’m not enjoying where this conversation is headed at all.

“When are you going to be happy with your life? Stop seeking more, and just settle down with the right one? This isn’t good for Adrian or Lilly, you know.”

I am trying to process what she is saying, but I don’t want to hear it. “Adrian? What does he have to do with this? I’ve always been a good father to him.” I try to remain calm. I can sense that she is uncomfortable with this conversation just as much as I am.

“He needs you more than you know. You have to be a good role model for him. He can’t see you like this, causing Candace so much distress.”

I release a pent up puff of air, and look up toward the wooden rafters of the ceiling. That doesn’t look right, I think to myself. That joist should be supported…

“Anthony Hayes!” 

I look down at her. She is as frustrated and beautiful as ever. Her cleavage is tucked snugly between her buttoned blouse, the first two buttons undone, yet ever so modestly. She is wearing heels today. Her slender, perfectly sculpted legs are woven together, and I want so badly to open them and stick my face between them…

“Hello?…Are you even listening to me?!” 

She sounds flustered at this point. I am sure she has noticed my inability to keep my eyes off of her as of late.

“I will make note of it,” I say shrewdly. She looks most confused by my response. 

“Are you going to work things out with you and Candace?” She is sounding a tad whiny now.

“Work things out? If she wants anything to do with me, then yes, I will try to work things out, for our daughter’s sake.” I’m not sure if I’m being truthful, but I need to leave before I say anything I’ll regret.

I start to get up, but her arms swing forward, and she is reaching out for a hug. This is very unexpected, but I return her gesture, nonetheless. 

I am enjoying this moment of closeness. She’s exhaling little bursts of air against my neck, the warm sensation tickling me softly, giving me goosebumps. I realize that holding her this close is extremely difficult. I take her arms to release them and gently place them back at her sides. I feel my heart soften. “Thank you for always being there for me,” I say. “I know I have been pretty awful.”

I don’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I slip out the door stealthily, though not before turning to give her a quick smile that elicits a smile back from her. 

I’m feeling incredibly lost. She gave me a “sympathy hug.” What the heck was that?