"Thanks for pushing him. He'll talk about it for the rest of the day, and you're officially his favorite person on the street."
"Great," he says, dry as dust. Then he nods and darts off down the path again like he had never stopped.
I watch him go for a second, then sit back on the bench and shake my head. Ethan runs over from the climbing structure where he migrated while Caleb and I were talking.
"Mom, can we come back tomorrow?"
"We'll see. Let's head home and get you cleaned up. You're drenched."
"I'm not drenched. I'm just a little sweaty."
"Buddy, your shirt is see-through right now."
He looks down at himself and shrugs like that's perfectly acceptable. I hand him a juice box from the cooler, and he drains the whole thing in one gulp, then wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. We walk to the car together and he climbs into the back seat still buzzing.
He talks the entire drive about how high Caleb pushed him and how it was way higher than the swings at school and how Caleb is probably the strongest man on the whole planet. I'd have to concur that the man is very strong, so strong, I lose my mind a little when I see his muscles, which isn’t a good thing for me, but I nod along and let Ethan go on, pulling into the driveway just as my phone buzzes in the cup holder.
Derek's name lights up the screen. I don't want to talk to him, but I don’t have a choice. If I ignore him, I start getting messages from the mediators about my responsibility to communicate.
"Ethan, go inside, honey. I have to take this call." He's such a good boy. He climbs out of the car and races up the driveway to the front door where he vanishes before I swipe to answer the phone. Derek starts talking before I've even greeted him.
"Hey, I need to talk to you about next week," he says abruptly.
"Go ahead."
"I want to take Ethan out of school Thursday and Friday and drive up to the lake house for a long weekend. My parents will be there and they haven't seen him in months."
"Derek, he can't miss school. He has a math test on Friday and his teacher already sent a note home about attendance after you picked him up early two weeks ago."
"It's two days, Olivia. He's eight years old. He's not going to flunk third grade over one math test." He's so annoyed so easily and he gets hostile quickly, too. Sometimes, I wonder if he's impatient and upset with Ethan like this when I'm not around.
"The answer is no. He can go to the lake house on a weekend when it doesn't conflict with school. You'd have to pick him up after school is over on Friday." I'm not a fan of pissing Derek off, but this time, I have to draw the line. Ethan is struggling in math at times. He can't miss a test for a trip that's not necessary. Derek could do this on Saturday and Sunday. It's just a power move bent on making me look too controlling.
"This is exactly what you do," Derek snarls. "You hold him hostage with rules and technicalities so I can't have any real time with him. It's controlling and the mediator's going to hear about it."
"Then the mediator can hear about it, but Ethan's not missing school."
"You're unbelievable. My parents are asking to see their grandson and you won't budge on two days. What kind of mother does that?"
"I'm happy to plan something for a weekend, Derek. That's my offer." After the morning I've had, I refuse to let Derek rain on my parade. I'm pleasant and happy and I want to stay that way.
But Derek hangs up angrily and I know I'm going to hear about this in the future too. I just wish I had someone to talk to about this, someone who could tell me I'm not a lunatic and Derek really is being absurd. Derek stripped everything from me, even my friends. When we split, they all took his side, leaving me with no one but my manager at work, and I can't really tell her much either. She's my boss, not my buddy.
At some point, this has to break and Derek has to realize I'm not going to be bullied around. When he does, hopefully, life will return to normal, and I'll be able to have a social life again. For now, however, I have to be more careful and watchful. I'm walking a fine line, and I can't afford any mistakes or Derek will use them against me.
Which means I can't afford to let little casual interactions with Mr. Ward affect me. My head's in the clouds over that man, and Ethan needs me more present so his dad doesn't pull crap.
6
CALEB
The weed-whacker bites through the tall grass along the new fence posts and spits green clippings across my boots. I've been at it for about a half hour, working my way down the property line, trimming everything back the way it should look. The sun is high and hot for early May and sweat has soaked through my shirt in a wide V down my chest. But the work feels good and I need it. My mind's been running too much lately and physical labor is the only thing that slows it down.
I hear Olivia's car before I see it. The engine roars as she zips around the corner and pulls into her driveway. I keep the weed-whacker going without looking up. I'm not here to be social. I'm here to trim grass and observe. Those two things work better when I look like I'm minding my own business.
But I hear her open the hatch and I glance over out of habit. She's standing behind the car staring at a massive cardboard box wedged into the back of her SUV. The thing's long and heavy and she has both hands on one end of it, pulling with her whole body weight while the box barely moves. Her shoes slip on the driveway and she catches herself on the bumper, thenrepositions and tries again. The box slides about three inches before she lets out a groan.
There's no way she's moving that on her own. If she tries, she's going to hurt herself, and then I'll feel like a real piece of work for watching and not doing anything. So I kill the weed-whacker and set it on the grass.
