Of course you were.
Wait, please tell me it wasn’t mine.
“Because I was trying to paint these canvas shoes for my mom’s birthday.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” I said as we pulled into the middle school.
Suja’s face crumpled into tears. “No, it’s not! I messed them up.”
Three minutes until the late bell.
I left the carpool line and pulled into a parking place. I’d been thirteen once, and I could remember being mortified when my classmates saw me cry. Frequently.
I wouldn’t do that to Suja.
“Suja, darling. I can help you fix it.”
She looked up, her eyes still wet with tears. “You will?”
“Of course I will. I have a whole craft room, you know.”
“Mom’s birthday is on Saturday.”
“Then you come over one afternoon when you can with a new pair of shoes, and I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, Miss Viv, you’re the best!” She tried to hug me but ended up clocking me with her lunch box instead.
Thank goodness it was canvas.
She sniffed, and I could see her teenager moods were already swinging from the depths of despair back to euphoria. I had to get the child into the school building before that pendulum swung back again.
The late bell chose that moment to ring.
“Okay, then.” I reached into my purse for Kleenex and handed some tissues to Suja. “I’m guessing I’m going to have to forge your mom’s signature again, huh?”
Suja giggled through a hitch in her breath left over from the sobs. “I suppose I was feeling a little under the weather this morning.”
I looked up from the note I was hastily writing. “Yes, well. If we pull this trick too many times, we’re going to get caught, and I have a feeling it will be far more unpleasant for you than for me.”
Suja sobered. “I’ll do better, Miss Viv. I promise.”
I couldn’t help but soften. “You’ll do just fine. Let’s walk you in and get you signed in with this note so your tardy will be excused.”
As I shut the car door, my boobs knocked about.
Sonuvabitch, my bra. Or lack thereof.
But I couldn’t send Suja in alone, because the middle school required parents to accompany late students into the building.
I sighed and pressed my arms to my sides to create a sort-of bra. People might wonder why I was walking around with stiff arms, but at least my boobs wouldn’t jiggle as much? Maybe? At least I was wearing a black shirt? At least—
Oh, let it all hang out, Vivian. Who cares if you walk into the middle school without a bra? You don’t have kids in the school system anymore. Heck, maybe the swaying of your breasts will attract a new man, a better man.
And that was when I literally ran right into Parker because of course I did.
I took a deep breath and looked up. “Sorry about that. I should really watch where I’m going.”
He was holding my elbows with warm, gentle hands that were entirely too close to my free-range boobs. “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”
