Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He shrugs a second time. Classic eleven-year-old communication with my boys, it seems.
I want to ask Cody what he thinks about his mother’s boyfriend, but I bite my tongue. I’d be asking not as Cody’s concerned teacher but as his father’s nosy girlfriend.
But I’m suspecting his reluctance to be in Dover this weekend has less to do with Travis and more to do with the fact that Cody idolizes his father. Maybe Penelope is justified with her jealousy in that regard. Cody vibrates with energy when he arrives at his father’s house and drags his feet sullenly when he leaves. He knows his father’s football stats as if they were his own. When he’s not engrossed in his PlayStation, he’s harping on Shane to toss a ball with him because he wants to pick up the mantle of quarterback. He’s had Shane repeat fire station stories, clinging to his every word.
If Cody had to choose one home to live in, I’d bet money he’d choose Shane’s.
And watching the two of them together makes me think crazy thoughts. Thoughts I never really entertained with any real dimension. Like, what would it be like to have a baby with this man?
Cody still lingers. What’s on his mind?
“You know, your dad loves hearing from you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cody says flippantly, but it’s followed by a small, thoughtful smirk.
“You should call him when you get home.” I check the clock. “Not that I don’t love hanging out with you, but shouldn’t you be getting on your bus now? I don’t want you to miss it.” On days with Penelope, Cody takes the school bus to her parents’ after school to wait for her to finish work.
He shakes his head. “I’m getting a ride with my mom today. She had a meeting with Mrs. Redwood, so she told me to go to the office after school.”
My stomach drops. Penelope is meeting with Wendy?
I clear the apprehension from my voice. “She’ll be wondering where you are, then.”
He nods and takes a step toward the door, but then he stalls again. “Are you and my dad allowed to date?”
I struggle to not gnash my teeth. There’s only one person who would have put that thought in his head. And she just met with my boss.
“Our relationship doesn’t break any rules with the school board,” I say evenly. “But I think you and your dad should talk about it some more, okay?” Let Shane contradict whatever lies and poison Penelope is filling their son’s head with.
“Oh, okay. Good. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He grins, oblivious to the tension ricocheting through my body. “See ya, Scar.” He trots off, leaving me stewing in this odd mixture of rage and worry even while I smile. At some point, Cody has adopted his father’s nickname for me.
I let my forehead fall to the desk, debating whether I should march down to the office now and face Wendy or hightail it out of here to face her next week. That’s how Becca finds me.
“Rough day?” she chirps, her bags slung over her shoulder, her keys dangling from her finger. No one lingers long on Fridays around here.
“I’m not sure yet,” I answer cryptically. It’s not like Penelope blindsided Wendy with Shane’s and my “indiscretion.” Suddenly I find myself thanking Bott for reporting her suspicions to our boss. It gives Wendy an opportunity to arm herself ahead of time, to shut down Penelope’s complaints.
But will she? She certainly didn’t give me the heads-up about this discussion.
I tell Becca about Penelope’s meeting with Wendy.
“Oh.” She nods vigorously, as if she gets it. Does she, though? Has Becca done anything as a teacher that could be construed as morally questionable? “Don’t worry too much about Penelope. She’s a thorn but Wendy will handle her.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Her smile is sympathetic. “You spending time with your sexy neighbor this weekend?”
“Yeah. Until he goes to work on Sunday morning.”
“We should do something on Sunday, then. We haven’t hung out in forever.”
“I know, right?” My guilt creeps in. I’ve been so blissfully consumed by all things Shane these past few weeks, I’ve let my budding friendship fall by the wayside. “Why don’t we do brunch on Sunday?”
“Perfect. Text me with a time and location.”
Becca leaves me to stack the messy pile of math tests. After waffling for another minute, I decide I’d rather be in ignorant bliss this weekend as far as Penelope is concerned, and so I stuff everything in my satchel and grab my jacket, intent on escaping before I cross paths with Wendy.
Unfortunately, I’m not fast enough. I hear the worn heels clicking a few seconds before knuckles rap at my door.
“Knock, knock.” Wendy stands in my doorway, wearing that same troubled smile she wore when she first approached me about my relationship with Shane.