“We can,” she agrees. “Is that all? Because I have some guests over, and I should get back to them.”
Before I can demand to know who she’s with, I force myself to shut up and rethink my word choice. “That’s all for now. I’ll call if there’s anything else. Bye, Ash.”
“Talk later.”
Ashlin
“Ms. Isles, look at my painting!”
Smiling, I head to five-year-old Sasha Grey and pause at her shoulder to ooh and aah over her picture of what I presume is meant to be a cat. It has three legs and its whiskers are almost as long as its body, but her pride is evident and honestly, with her pink cheeks and darling curls, I don’t have to fake my enthusiasm.
I love my job.
Yes, it was hard for me to be around children constantly when I’d recently miscarried, but eventually I decided that being around these kids was better than nothing at all, and now I only ever experience the faintest of twinges.
“Very good, Sasha. What’s her name?”
“His name is Milo,” she replies, adding a blue stripe to Milo’s face.
Beside her, Bethany Yu bounces on the spot, desperate to receive attention. I turn to her. “What have you painted, Bethany?”
She points her brush at the paper. “It’s Mrs. Chou’s dog, Flossy. She lives next door. Mom says Flossy is a rat.”
Her innocent statement startles a snort from me, and I cover my face to hide the reaction. “Do you like Flossy?”
She shrugs. “She’s okay, I guess.”
Something catches my attention in the corner of my eye, and I glance around just in time to see Benjamin Potts go bottom-up over a table and land in a heap on the other side. Fortunately, the table is only a foot or two high. Unfortunately, Benjamin is the king of drama. His lip wobbles, and I rush over, praying he’ll hold it together, but just before I reach him, the waterworks start. He wails, scrunching his eyes and letting loose with a wave of sound an opera singer would envy.
“There now, Ben, you’re okay,” I soothe, checking him over to make sure he’s uninjured.
“Not. Okay,” he grumbles.
“There’s barely a mark on you.” Perhaps I sound unsympathetic, but I’ve found that with him, it’s best to play things off and he’ll come around. Act the slightest bit concerned and he’d have made such a fuss, his parents would be here within thirty minutes.
“Isn’t there?” His lip wobbles again, and he glances down at himself as though expecting to be missing a limb. “Huh.”
“So are you all good?” I ask. “Ready to get back to painting?”
He nods, and I help him clamber to his feet, then smooth my hands down my skirt. Dressing nicely isn’t always the best idea as a kindergarten teacher but I enjoy the way it makes me feel, and it doesn’t bother me if the kids mess me up. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows they’re comfortable with me, and that I’m still capable of interacting with them despite what happened. Maybe I’ll never be the kind of tough Seth was in the ring, but I have my own brand, and it’s not any less valuable than his.
Seth.
I hope he’ll say yes, even after he’s had Tyrell read over the contract. I know he won’t read it himself. The man doesn’t have the patience for that. If he has concerns, I’m prepared to negotiate. A band constricts around my chest. I just want a baby, and for some reason I’d rather not delve into too deeply, I want it to be his.
What would our baby look like?
I spent plenty of time picturing Cara, the daughter we never had. We’d chosen a name before we even got pregnant. Perhaps that’s what jinxed us. It’s hard to break free of that image and try to build another child in her place. For a while, I felt like I was betraying her by wanting to try again. Not honoring her memory. But my therapist helped me see how misguided that was. After all, she’ll always be a part of me, but she never even drew a breath. It hurts to think about losing her, but I want another chance.
At the back of the class, Ying Lee waves at me, and I smile. I want my own little girl more than I fear being devastated all over again.
4
Seth
I wipe sweat off my brow with a towel and toss it on the gym floor.
“Good job,” I tell Jase, who’s been working on pads with me for the past half hour. “Spend some more time practicing your fakes.”
