I should have been relieved. Instead, I felt like I was standing too close to a bomb that hadn’t gone off yet.
On my days off, I found myself at Maya’s school. I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t want to. I'd bring her lunch, sit with her while she scarfed down a sandwich between grading papers and parent emails.
One afternoon, I stopped at a bodega on the way and grabbed a bunch of daisies. Nothing fancy. Just right.
Maya looked up when I walked into her classroom. Her gaze dropped to the flowers.
"These are for me?"
"No, they're for Marcus. Heard he aced his spelling test."
She laughed, took them from my hand, and kissed me. Right there in her classroom, the door open, anyone could have walked by. She didn't seem to care.
"Thank you," she said against my mouth.
"They’re just flowers."
"It's not just flowers." She kissed me again, softer this time.
I didn't fully understand what she meant. But I filed it away anyway. The way her voice caught on the word. The way she looked at the daisies like they meant more than they should.
My phone buzzed while I was grabbing coffee at the café near Maya's school.
Brian
Garrett's birthday tonight. Drinks at O'Malley's. 8pm. Bring your girl.
"I can't. I'm behind on progress reports, and if I don't finish them this week, Principal Hendricks will have my head."
"I'll stay with you. Help you grade."
"You can't read my fourth graders' handwriting."
"I can try."
Maya laughed. The sound loosened something tight in my chest. "Go. It's Garrett's birthday. You should be there."
I hesitated. I didn't want to leave her. Not with Tommy still out there, not even with the patrol car parked outside.
She read my face. She always could.
"Shane." Her voice was gentle but firm. "There's a cop in the parking lot. Millie's with Zoe. I'm going to be in a locked building, grading papers about what my students did over winterbreak." She touched my arm. "I'll be fine. Go be with your brothers."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." She stood on her toes and kissed my cheek. "Tell Garrett happy birthday. Buy him a drink. Be normal for one night." She reached up, touched my jaw. "I'll be here when you get back."
I went. Not happily, but I went.
O'Malley's was crowded and loud, the way it always was on a Friday night.
I found Brian and Garrett at our usual table in the back. Garrett had a beer in front of him and a rare smile on his face. Brian was already two drinks in, telling a story about a call that had gone sideways last week.
"—and then the guy's like, 'That's not my cat,' and Torres here is standing there holding this twenty-pound tabby that's absolutely destroyed his turnout gear?—"
"It wasn't twenty pounds," Garrett said mildly.
"It was at least eighteen. Thing was a monster."
