Chance: Well, maybe I’ll see you tonight.
Me: It’s a date.
Me: I mean ... I’ll plan to see you tonight.
Oops. Of all the words in the English dictionary, I could have chosen a different one to respond with besides “date.”
Just as I’m about to set my phone down, it starts ringing with a number I don’t recognize. It’s a local number, though.
I stand from my desk and close the door to take the call in private.
“Hello?” I answer.
“August, it’s Diane, Keegan’s mom.”
“You’re not Keegan’s mother, Diane.”
“August, please. We will be coming over to your apartment this afternoon to pick up some of Keegan’s things. I wanted to let you know that we would be there since you’re most likely at work.”
Hell no. Keegan’s parents will not be in my apartment when I’m not home.
“This afternoon is not a good time,” I tell her. She knows I’m at work. It’s the precise reason they chose this afternoon.
“You don’t have to be there, dear. Nothing to worry about.”
She’s out of her mind. “I’ve changed the locks, so I’m afraid you won’t be able to get in without me.”
“August, you don’t own that apartment. The lease is still under both of your names, and we are Keegan’s power of attorney.”
“You are not Keegan’s anything,” I remind her.
“August, I expect you will be home at three p.m. to let us inside.”
“Diane,” I snap.
“Goodbye, dear.”
I slam my phone down on my desk and re-open my door. I’m already treading on thin ice with Leena, and knowing my luck, this will just push her over the edge.
“Miss Tay,” Zooey shouts from the kiddie table in the corner of the communal area. “Look at my lion!”
All thoughts of Diane and Leena are on hold as I tend to Zooey, the sweetest little girl. Her hair is up in pigtails with little ringlets sprouting in every direction. The t-shirt she has on is too large, but Minnie Mouse is on the front. She looks like she’s wearing a nightgown.
“Oh my gosh, Zooey. Did you draw that all by yourself?”
“Silly, Miss Tay. Who else would have drewn this?”
“Drawn,” I say, correcting her out of habit. I shouldn’t expect her to speak perfectly at four.
“Who else would have drawn this,” she says again.
“No one but the talented Zooey,” I reply with enthusiasm.
“That’s right, Miss Tay.”
I run my finger over the top of her head and stand back up to find Leena.
She’s making up snacks in the kitchen, filling each cup with even proportions of raisins and crackers. “How is the paperwork coming along for Jeremy?” she asks.
