SIMON

It had been a long day, and while I felt concerned about Maya’s first day at her new school, it was a relief to put her down for bed. Tucking her in, kissing her forehead, reading to her, and singing her a lullaby; bedtime was one of the few rituals I had been unwilling to sacrifice through the way our lives had changed, and it was my favorite part of the day. Though—and I could never admit it without feeling horrible for thinking such things—so was the silence which followed my daughter falling asleep.

I could relax without having to act like I was a perfectly functioning father. The tension came out of my shoulders, and I dropped the smile that always drained me by the end of the day. It was nice to allow my exhaustion to show while I worked at a snail’s pace to clean up the mess Maya always made of our living room.

A satisfied sigh left me as I collapsed onto the sofa with the chores done. My lean forward to reach for the can of beer on the coffee table was interrupted by a cold nose pressing against my arm. “C’mon, get up here, you big fluff,” I said, patting the couch next to me. A happy ball of fur and warmth jumped up to lie next to me; his tail moved in lazy arcs as my fingers scratched through the thick, white fur on Bear’s chest.

Between Bear and my beer, I was in heaven—until my gaze drifted to the folder sitting on the table next to a book of stickers. My breath caught as I remembered the horribly awkward way Jared and I had stared at each other in the classroom.

I shook it off and reached for the folder, tucked the pen I had sat on top of it behind my ear so I wouldn’t lose it, and gave the papers inside a better look.

When Jared had said he needed to talk to me, I’d been sure he was about to crush all my hopes for Maya’s new school. Every other conversation with teachers had ended with me consoling my crying child, not to mention Maya’s tears when I’d tell her she had to change classes, again. It was hard for me to be optimistic when it came to teachers now.

It had been a pleasant shock when I found out Maya had a teacher who cared about how she was doing in class. She had a teacher who was trying to help, rather than giving up and passing her on to somebody else.

Though I shouldn’t have been surprised seeing it was Jared.

I focused my attention on the document; if I needed to fill out some form to help him do that, I was more than happy to.

The form was less trouble than I had thought it would be. The questions were simple, asking about Maya’s strengths and weaknesses. It would have been easy to fill out before—now, I had to deliberate more before writing in the answers.

Maya was different than she had been before her mother passed; she had been more outgoing, and she’d loved learning from her mother when Amber had the time to teach her. Without her, Maya was quieter, more withdrawn, and didn’t try to reach out to make friends like she had before. She even reminded me a little of Jared when I had first met him, and I’d hounded him for weeks to get him to talk to me.

Familiar guilt made me close my eyes for a moment, trying to ward off the memories. I was supposed to be focusing on Maya, not her teacher, no matter how close we had been in the past.

Dragging my attention back to the folder in my lap, I started to fill in the rest of the answers. I knew Maya’s reading aptitude was past where the rest of her class would be, thanks to the time she spent with her mother, and the answers to anything about studying were as pleasant to fill in. When the form asked about her communication skills, how she interacted with classmates—those were slow and painful.

I was grateful to reach the final question, filling in the last answer before tossing the folder back onto the coffee table. Bear gave the papers a curious look, alerted by the noise, before he put his head back on my thigh. His attempts to be sneaky as he slowly crawled his way onto my lap made me laugh; I let him get comfortable before I settled my hand on his back, idly petting along his silky fur while I finished my beer.

Without something to concentrate on, it was impossible to keep my thoughts from drifting back to Jared and how I had told him we could meet up just to escape the conversation.

Between work and Maya, I was always busy. And even without the excuses, I didn’t think I would hold myself to that promise. It would take too much effort to pretend to be normal for that much longer. After the years that had passed, and with the aching, empty space left in my heart after my wife’s death, trying to rekindle a relationship with an old friend was too much for me.

He was a teacher, my daughter was his student, and that was how I needed it to stay—no matter how tempted I was when faced with those blue eyes, which drew up too many memories.

I was lost to those memories as I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes with Bear’s warmth lulling me to sleep. I must have been more exhausted than I thought to fall asleep on the couch like that, with echoes of laughter following me down into dreams of an easier, happier time.

***

Falling asleep on the couch meant forgetting to set my alarm clock and little hands shaking me awake yet again. Maya’s disapproving pout had me rushing to get up, guilty that I had made her wake me again.

“Sorry, baby girl. I didn’t mean to sleep in.” I was groveling as I took care of Bear and made Maya breakfast, bribing her with her favorite microwavable chocolate chip pancakes—partially because they were so easy to eat in the car.

“Grounded,” she huffed back, surprising a laugh out of me.

“You’re right. No TV for me tonight.”

“And pizza for dinner!”

“Again?” I frowned at her when she shrugged. What was it with kids and pizza? “How about sandwiches, and I’ll let you have dessert.”

“Ice cream!” Maya’s anger was forgotten immediately, and I was glad she was so easy to win over.

The smile fell off my face when my phone rang on the counter. I grabbed it before Maya could try to hide it and keep my attention. “Please tell me it’s not an emergency,” I answered with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, not exactly.” The woman speaking was my assistant, the one who kept track of all the appointments I had set to show clients new buying prospects or run open houses. “But you’re not going to like it.”

I held my breath for a moment, trying not to look irritated in front of Maya. “We’ll make it work. What is it?”

“We’ve had some interest in the house on Sheridan. People who would make offers you would die for. If we do an open house tonight, I can almost guarantee we’ll sell in the next week.”

“That’s great, Abigail! Why wouldn’t I like that?”

“It’s going to be late. There are families, and couples who work in that area. I know your kid’s in school, but we’d only get maybe one client if we run this during working hours. We’re already completely booked this weekend.”

“For fu—” I came to a hard stop, biting my tongue. Maya was watching me too closely for me to even think about swearing. “Fine. I’ll find a way.”

“Sorry, Mister Hayes.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later. Thanks, Abigail,” I added before I hung up, not wanting to sound too harsh. The last thing I needed when I was rebuilding my business was to lose the woman who kept my schedule from going to hell.

“Dad?” Maya’s hesitant voice brought my attention back to her. “Okay?”

“I’m fine! Let’s get you to school, all right? We have to return that sticker book—don’t forget it!”

That got Maya moving again, and I hurried her out the door with her mini pancakes wrapped in a napkin for her to eat while I drove her to school.