Now, I need to speak to my kid’s teacher to find out what happened.
I might even ask about the Spring Fair.
I’m not short on commissioned work, but knowing Harrison is nearby, I’ll need something else to keep me busy.
The familiar school halls are quiet now that all the kids are outside.
It’s funny how even after all these years, the school still smells, looks, and feels the same.
George confidently leads me to his classroom as if it’s the first time I’ve been in the school. His teacher is clearing the whiteboard. His laptop is open on the desk.
In my time, we had a blackboard and the teacher’s desk was full of books.
“Hey, Mr. Bradford. George says you wanted to see me.”
The man gives me a friendly smile. His wavy hair hangs past his ears, making me wonder if it’s his usual style or if he’s due for a cut.
He’s a good-looking man. Not as tall as me, but his kind smile and warm blue eyes are friendly and inviting.
Not my type, but I can still appreciate, right?
“Please, call me Ellis. I’m sorry we haven’t met before. I wanted to organize a parent-teacher night, but I’ve been busy helping the principal with a few overdue projects and haven’t had a chance,” he says apologetically.
“It’s not a problem. I know George is happy at school, so I have no concerns…unless I need to have concerns…”
Ellis bends a little to meet George’s eyes. “George, why don’t you go to the library and see if you can find that book about the pirate hunt you were talking about earlier while I speak to your dad?”
“Okay,” George says and then looks at me. I smile and nod, so he runs to the back of the room, where there’s a separate area with wall-to-wall overflowing bookshelves and a load of pillows on the floor.
I turn to Ellis. There’s nowhere to sit, so I lean against one of the front row desks.
“George told me he had an incident with a little girl today,” I say.
Ellis’s smile is tight but not angry. “That’s what I—”
A knock on the open door stops him. “I’m sorry, I—”
I could recognize that voice anywhere in the world, despite the brief time we spent together.
Harrison stares at me as if he’s looking at a three-headed alien.
“Fletcher,” he says, and fuck me if the sound of my name coming from his lips doesn’t settle over me like a fluffy robe at the end of a hot bath.
4
HARRISON
His name fallsfrom my lips, leaving me wondering how I must have fucked up so badly in a previous life, or maybe even this one.
Is it bad karma or poetic justice?
Either way, I don’t know how I feel about Fletcher being my daughter’s teacher.
I knew something was wrong as soon as I laid eyes on Megan walking toward me earlier. Unlike the other kids, she didn’t run out as soon as the school bell rang.
That’s something we need to talk about. She’s still afraid to run or even walk briskly. I know she’s not in any pain. Her pediatrician and the orthopedic surgeon assure us of that, but being in a serious car accident is a traumatic experience for a child.
She’s still compensating with her good leg, and she’s pretending nothing happened.
