Her head tilts, blonde locks narrowly missing the soup in front of her.
I explain. “I’m short a couple credits, so I have to take a random class to fill it on top of my Seminar and Student Teaching. Though, the school is letting my experience here count for that, so it should take some pressure off.”
A sympathetic frown appears on her otherwise flawless face. I’ve always liked Erin. She’s a new English teacher for the middle school, so I see her occasionally if our classes are in the library at the same time. Otherwise, we’re in different wings of the building. “What class do you have to take?”
“History of Mythology.”
Interest brightens her eyes. “That sounds interesting. Weren’t you telling me you’re into Greek Mythology?”
“Yeah,” I relent, shrugging. “I read the syllabus online and it’s only covered in the last half of the course. We barely go over it for a week which is disappointing. Plus, the teacher isn’t even listed.”
She cringes. “That’s never good.”
Another reason I’m nervous. If they cancel the class because there’s been a change in faculty, that means I have to attempt to squeeze into another one. Most of the ones I saw for the term are already full.
“It’ll work out,” she insists.
I know it will. It always has before.
“Hey,” I stare at the knotted wood table, tracing the blemish with my finger. “What did you do for Sarah’s sixth birthday? I’m having trouble planning anything for Ainsley because of…”
Erin is one of the few people who knows about Ainsley’s select mutism. After Danny passed away from the car accident, she hasn’t spoken. The doctors said to give her time, but not once in the three years I’ve had her has she said a word. It makes me worry that the school will tell me I need to find a different district to fit her needs. I’ve already been talked to by the Kindergarten teacher who expressed her worry for future grades, as if because she doesn’t talk she’s somehow unable to understand.
Finding it hard to swallow, I suck in a shaky breath and try playing it off. “She likes princesses so I thought I could do a theme. But she hasn’t made any friends and I don’t think having a lot of people over would be a good idea. Any thoughts?”
Erin reaches over and pats my hand. “I know this woman who makes amazing cakes. She could do one with Ainsley’s favorite princess and you could do an intimate party with family. The stores always have themed plates, balloons, and other fun stuff for kids’ parties.”
I’m thankful she isn’t the type of person to press for a therapist intervention. I tried it last year because I’d gotten pressured into it by a doctor that I’d switched Ainsley to, but it only made her worse. Talking to strangers wasn’t going to happen when she wouldn’t even talk to family.
“I’ll do that,” I say, smiling.
When the rest of the day passes with no phone calls or SOS texts, I find the drive home from work to be calm. The dull sound of a pop mix channel on the radio ensures I don’t get trapped in my head.
Walking into the house, I stop in my tracks after locking the front door. My eyes focus on the sleeping Ainsley in a well-crafted pillow fort in the living room, her small body draped across couch cushions and tangled in blankets she took from all our rooms.
Next to her is a pair of long jean-clad legs stretched out, one inked arm draped across his stomach as it rises and falls to a calming rhythm.
They’re both sleeping.
Biting back my smile, I pull out my phone and snap a picture. Sending it to Jenna, I quietly take off my boots and jacket before tip-toing into the kitchen, careful of the odds and ends scattered on the carpet.
When I open the fridge, I see a gallon of almond milk, one carton of eggs, and a piece of my favorite triple chocolate cake in a plastic container on the top shelf. There’s a yellow sticky note with a scratchy word sprawled on it.
Sorry.
Chapter Four
Blinking my eyes open when the bed dips beside me and the air swirls with the faintest scent of alcohol, I focus on the dark head of hair staring at the picture on my nightstand. His profile is blank, his lips pressed in a tight line and his eyes unblinking.
I sit up. “What are you doing?” Rubbing my eyes, I note that it’s