My son was also attuned to me in ways no one else had ever been.
Except.
I quickly banished the thought as soon as his crooked smile flashed across my mind. I had no time for foolish fantasies about a man who left me without looking back.
“Are you sure?” Jamie pushed off his Beats, a determined gleam in his eyes, ready to come to my defense or aid. He loved Kody. He just loved me more. Although we’d never spoken of Kody’s affair with our boys, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jamie knew. Maybe even knew before I did, since his teacher from his former school had been the other woman involved with his father. Maybe that was the real reason he insisted on transferring schools for the ninth grade.
“Yes.” I turned back around. “Finish eating. We’re leaving in three minutes.”
“Okay,” KJ said with a full mouth. “I’m almost done.”
“You’re spitting food everywhere,” Jamie complained. “Why do I have to keep reminding you not to talk with food in your mouth?”
“Mommy, he’s the mean one. Not Daddy.” He whined before yelling, “Ouch. He pinched me.”
“Leave your brother alone, Jamie.” I placed an apple, a container of salad and ranch dressing, and Doritos in a black lunch bag. “I’m going to grab my cell. Meet you in the car.”
Worried knots twisted my stomach as I strode toward our bedroom at the back of our home. When we found this house seven years ago, we’d joked about wanting our bedroom to be away from our tiny listening ears so we could have loud sex or arguments. Lately, it had been silent. No sex. No fighting. A quiet indifference. Marriage therapy only amplified our troubles, and we’d retreated to our respective sides of the bed to avoid arguing or talking about his betrayal.
The faucet ran behind the closed door of the bathroom when I walked in. I picked up my purse and cell and tiptoed to the door. I could hear the rumble of his voice, but couldn’t make out his words. He was hiding something or someone. The knots coiled tighter, and I turned away from the door, wondering when the lies would come to light again.
Last summer, he had a fling with Jamie’s history teacher. She called me one night and confessed. Instinct questioned her accusations, and instinct summarized that she’d only called, hoping to get him in trouble because he ended things. I quietly thanked her for letting me know that she believed in breaking up homes. She grew angry at my calm reaction and started calling me all kinds of names, trying to push my buttons. This woman, who knowingly slept with my husband, wanted to fight mebecause I didn’t behave the way she probably imagined I would at Kody’s adultery. My parents had raised me to be proud and not to lower myself to the gutter when dealing with the gutter.
So, I lied and quietly told her that she was being recorded, and if she didn’t quit her job, I would release the audio of her confession. I also reminded her that the world would be crueler to the teacher who dealt with the married man of one of her students than to the husband who cheated on his wife. To add further insult, I told her he’d already told me of his indiscretion and that he begged for my forgiveness because he’d fucked up badly. Finally, I told her to stop playing on my phone and to grow the fuck up.
I hadn’t seen or heard from her since that awful phone call.
That night, when Kody came home, he stared in utter confusion at the mostly covered bed, full of his clothes and two suitcases. I told him I knew about the affair and that I wanted a divorce. To my surprise, my arrogant and prideful husband cried and swore he would never hurt me like that again. Pulled out his phone and made an appointment with a marriage therapist on the spot.
And for a while, we were good.
Now, it seemed we were no longer good. Maybe we never were because our marriage began with a lie. I was in love with his best friend when I married him. Maybe this is what I deserve for lying to myself and to Kody.
Instead of confronting him, I closed our bedroom door behind me and focused on what I could control—being a good mother to my sons.
“Mrs. Griffin,do you have a second to talk?” Ms. Campbell, KJ’s second-grade teacher, peered into my window during the carpool line as KJ hopped out the back and rushed toward the school entrance.
“Um…like now?” I checked my watch. “In an hour, I have a meeting at the office.”
“Well, we sent emails and left messages with your husband, and we only have one more quarter left. My planning period is now, if you can chat.” She kindly smiled, though I saw the concern etched in her eyes.
“I’ll park and come inside.” I checked my rearview mirror before pulling out to make a U-turn. Heat flamed my neck and face. I hit the button on my car. “Call Hubby.”
“Hey, I left my lunch. Can you bring it to me?” He asked as soon as he answered.
“I’m not running back home. Order something.”
“You’re the one who’s always on me about spending.”
“Kody, no time for this. Why haven’t you been checking your emails? KJ’s teacher said she’s been sending emails about him.” I slid my Honda Pilot into the parking lot.
He grew silent, and then he replied, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just being a boy. Getting out of his seat without permission and running his mouth. Not a big deal.”
“If it’s nothing, why am I about to meet with her? And why am I finding out that you received anything at all?” I seethed. “You told me you got KJ, and I have Jamie.”
“I do. If you want me to meet with her, schedule something for later this week, and I’ll make it happen.” He sighed, “If I thought it was important, I would’ve told you. You know KJ is a ball of fun energy. He doesn’t mean any harm. These teachers don’t get that black boys need the freedom to breathe, and it’s hard to sit still.”
“You insisted that he go to this private school when he could go right around the corner from the house where they get him,” I argued. We both valued education and helped each other through college, but he seemed more focused on image and prestige than on what was right for our sons. The only reason he allowed Jamie to go to Oak Valley High without a fight was that he wanted to distance himself from the affair. “I’m here now. I’ll see what she’s talking about, and if you need to come in too, I’ll let you know.”
