All Our Lives ✔

16|

I held out the baby, not knowing if it was a boy or a girl.

"You were gone a while. I wanted one," I said. "This is six months of life."

She stared. Perfect as ever. 

Placing the kid in the carrier, I went to kneel in front of the bottom drawer of my dresser to pull out a few things. After a delay, her ominous steps followed. When I started to rise, the slightest pressure from her hand on my shoulder had me going totally still. Her hold moved down, over my sweater, for a test squeeze.

It was the end of my little joke.

I turned to put us nose to nose. "It's the neighbor's, but I think it likes me better already."

She spoke in my ear, and I didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. 

"As anyone would."

∞

I knocked on the classroom door and poked my head in. "Mr. Geoffrey, can I borrow Hannah for a minute?"

The teacher waved her out and continued with the lesson.

"What's up?" Hannah said, watching me brace a hand against the wall.

"Do you have some ibuprofen? It's awful this time...my leg is starting to go numb."

This was actually a good time for it to be that time of the month, because the urge to drag Sebri behind the school and kiss her senseless was greatly (though not entirely) diminished.

Hannah's pretty face fell in sympathy. "Yeah, but I left my bag in the nurse's office. I'll go—"

"No, I know your presentation is today. I'll pick it up for you and get it to you after class."

A graying, balding man sat at his desk and greeted me kindly when I entered with a knock.

"Hi, Mr. Anderson." No relation to Mrs. Anderson. "I'm just picking this up for Hannah," I said, gesturing to the purse in one of the seats lined up against the wall.

"Oh, yes, good," he said.

I got out my phone to send a text to Hannah and saw Mrs. Anderson's familiar number in my recent calls. Something about the order of digits bugged me, and for a moment, I was lost in thought.

Mr. Anderson coughed. "How is Sebrina? I haven't seen her in a while. She tells me you're aware of her tinnitus...it hasn't helped her temper, I'm sure."

And I forgot all about numbers. 

"Tinn—you mean that ringing people hear?"

"It can be a ringing. It can also be..."

But I'd stopped listening.

"Are you okay? Did you hear what I said about the project in..." Sebri trailed off. We'd just gotten off the bus and started home.

"I'm sorry," I blurted, "that you've been dealing with so much." This on top of everything else...

"What is it?" she pressed.

"Mr. Anderson thought I knew about your tinnitus."

"It's improved with time," she said, and I gaped at her non-reaction.

"I see."

"Barely bothers me anymore. It's not even on the list of things that piss me off."

"YOU'RE SUCH A PIECE OF SHIT, DAD!" some four-year-old yelled from an open window as a man got into his car.