“Absolutely insane. Imagine trying to teach fifty-eight distinct personalities, each with little to no respect for the rules, several of whom are overstimulated, tired, cranky, or a combination of all three. Also, it’s wonderful. Preschoolers are constantly growing and changing, and it’s rewarding as hell to watch them build friendships and learn concepts like teamwork and empathy.”
She chuckled. “I can’t even imagine Ruckus in preschool. Those poor teachers.”
I held up my hand. “Wait. Your son’s name is Ruckus? That’s adorable. And slightly foreboding.”
“Yes, well, we named him Marcus, after his father. Wasp named him Ruckus, and the little monster has been doing his damnedest to live up to it.”
Our turn had come, so we ordered our drinks and found a table by the window.
“How long have you owned the bookstore?” I asked, sitting across from Julia.
“A handful of years now.”
“That was my childhood dream. Is it what you’ve always wanted to do?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Wasn’t even on my radar. I went to school for psychology. But then I went through some shit, and books became my escape. So, when the quaint little bookstore that had become my second home went up for sale, I bought it.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to have the money to buy a business, but I nodded anyway. “Makes sense.”
“Not to most people. Local bookstores aren’t profitable these days, but the value they provide to neighborhoods is immeasurable. The book clubs and story times for children add a sense of community that isn’t always easy to find in cities.”
“You don’t have to sell me. I think it sounds wonderful.”
“It is. As is what you do. You made Havoc’s day today. I wish you could have seen the look on his face when I told him the board approved the Christmas party. Thank you for hearing us out and giving us this chance.”
“Thank you for proposing the idea. I can’t tell you how much it’ll mean to the kids.”
She smiled fondly. “Almost as much as it’ll mean to my ol’ man. He might look big and scary, but he’s such a softie underneath it all.”
“How on earth did the two of you meet?” I asked.
Her eyes widened for a second, and I winced, realizing how that must have sounded.
“I’m sorry if that’s an inappropriate question,” I hurried to add. “It’s only that the two of you seem like you’re from different worlds, yet your face lights up every time you talk about him. You seem to have the kind of relationship I’ve only read about in romance novels, so there has to be a story there.”
“Oh, there is.” She drummed her manicured nails against the table and looked out the window. “My family is… complicated. They’re wealthy, entitled, and elitist. My first marriage was more of a business transaction than a love match, but the women in our society don’t divorce. We find ways to seek out our own contentment, biting our tongues and doing everything in our power to hold back Mother Nature lest the menfolk be tempted to replace us with someone younger and more agreeable.”
“Gross.”
She smiled. “Precisely. I’m ashamed to admit I’d accepted the plan until the bastard cheated on me. That was a deal-breaker for me, but not for my family, who remained close to him. So close, in fact, they invited the rabid cuntroach to my little sister’s wedding.”
“Your own family?” I gasped, but my outrage morphed into a chuckle as I realized what she’d called her ex. “Rabid cuntroach?”
“Yep. Trust me, he was far too limp to be a cockroach.”
The more I got to know Julia, the more I came to adore her.
“At the time, Havoc was all over the news for putting Mayor Kinlan’s son in the hospital. The big, burly biker came into my bookstore looking for gardening books, and I recognized him immediately. Since my family was also close to the Kinlans, I saw an opportunity.”
I leaned forward in my seat, fully invested. “Please tell me Havoc was your plus one for the wedding.”
She grinned and nodded. “Best decision I ever made.”
The dreamy look in her eyes as she spoke about him made me uncomfortable, so when the person behind the counter shouted Julia’s name, I gratefully hopped up to retrieve our drinks.
“What made you decide to become a preschool administrator?” Julia asked when I returned. She took her beverage from me and popped the straw through the plastic film, taking a gulp and sighing in relief.
I also prepared my drink, buying time as I decided how much to say. My past often made people uncomfortable, but Julia seemed able to handle it. Besides, it had been a long-ass time since I’d shared anything personal with anyone, and I kind of wanted to share.
