Turns out the key to a healthy life-work balance and a happy life is sex. Lots of it. It's impossible to feel stressed when you're always riding your last high or looking forward to the next one. I've never been so exhilarated and relaxed at the same time.
Nathan never tells me when he's coming over, so my heartrate speeds up every time I come back home or hear something near the front door. When he doesn't have his daughter, he stays over sometimes, but when it's his week with her, I hardly see him. I get that, respect him for it, even though I still hate it fervently.
Danny keeps calling me, but I refuse to pick up. Fuck him. Figuratively, that is. Never literally again. Been there, done that, didn't like, got called frigid because of it.
Thanksgiving is coming up soon and I'll be spending a long weekend with my parents and Shaughna. I should be excited to see them, but I'm mostly sad to leave town when I know Nathan doesn't have his kid. A small part of me wants to blow off my family to spend time with him, but I know I can't just drop everything for a guy I don't even really know. Where does he live? What is his last name? What's his daughter's name? How old is she? Why did he and his ex-wife split up? I know the answer to none of those question, which means that this is not even close to anything resembling a relationship.
It's just sex.
Mind-blowing sex that often ends with me covering up hickeys, bites or bruises before I can go to work. I live in a constant state of feeling like I'm in a highly realistic wet dream that has to end sometime, even though I just want it to continue forever.
The box of condoms isn't empty when I leave for Thanksgiving – even we don't have sex that often – so I know I'll see Nathan again. Part of me wants to secretly fill the box up so we'll never run out, but I know that's stupid. Even since we agreed on our new arrangement, we've stopped talking about anything even remotely personal. We don't eat dinner together anymore. He doesn't talk about his family – not even his mother, so I don't know if she recovered – and all we basically do is fuck, recover and fuck some more.
It's fine with me. In many ways, it's perfect. I can focus on my job and have a fulfilling sex life. No drama, no fights. Not knowing what he's going through in his everyday life makes it easier to pretend that he only exists when he's in bed with me. In there nothing else matters. No ex-boyfriends, ex-wives, last names, past experiences, feelings... We just live on the fire we ignite in each other, not needing anything else.
Shaughna is extremely excited about the whole thing and keeps asking for details. I give some, reluctantly. I'm not ashamed about my sex life, not with Shaughna who I know so much about that I could never be embarrassed with her, but the more I talk about Nathan, the more real it all feels. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I like that he feels like an escape from reality, a situationship without feelings and complications. I don't even care that we hardly know each other. Our bodies sure do and that's all I need.
Thanksgiving with the whole family is amazing as always. Mom and I cook a spectacular turkey dinner and dad keeps making excuses so he won't have to help, which we are grateful for. That man once managed to burn a pan with only water in it, set off the smoke alarm and set an oven mitt on fire. He's a sweetheart, but clumsy as hell.
"You look happier than last time I saw you," my aunt Charlotte says when we're all enjoying a glass of wine after dinner.
"She does, doesn't she?" Mom agrees with a smile. "That new town and job are good for you."
They are not wrong. I love my job and found a good friend in Tiffany. Annabel and I have tea for an hour every week and, of course, there's Nathan for some wicked stress relief. Life is good.
I spend the rest of the weekend taking long walks with my parents, hanging out with Shaughna and doing research on anger in children and temper tantrums. Rose hasn't been doing well lately and I worry about her. Her mom does too, but she mostly blames me, because Rose apparently is a little angel at home. I want to help the poor kid and research helps a bit, although I still feel like I'm missing something.
The rest of the class has warmed to me and Manny and Tommy Thompson even call me their favorite teacher. Of course, they still try get out of doing their work and make weird noises to distract me when I'm trying to explain an assignment. Boys will be boys.
When I get back to work on Monday, I'm actually glad the weekend is over. I absolutely love those kids. It's a treat to see all of them, even little Gracie, whose mother keeps badgering me that I need to give her precious little princess more special attention.
Of course, all goes to hell on Tuesday. It's Rose's week with her mom, so Monday was already filled with stress for her, but Tuesday is when she truly kicks off. I only turn away from the kids for a second to blow my nose, but it's enough for her to hit Tommy in the face, spit in Manny's and take off her dress. She won't let me calm her down and I have to get the headmaster just so he can watch the kids while I continue talking to Rose. For a while, she keeps kicking off, but eventually her tantrum veers into a staring match, which I win.
"What's going on?" I demand to know. "This isn't normal behavior for you, Rose. You're a sweet and compassionate girl. Something is wrong. Tell me."
She sits down on the floor in her underwear, so I sit down too, pulling her to me so we're hugging. She sinks into me and start sobbing.
"Rose, you can tell me," I urge.
"No," she whimpers. "I can't."
"Okay." I stroke her back until she calms down enough for the tears to stop flowing. "Maybe you can't. Is there anything that I can do to help, even if you can't tell me what is wrong?"
She starts shaking her head but stops and looks up at me. "I don't want to wear a dress ever again."
"Why not?"
Her bottom lip quivers. "You said I don't have to tell you."
I want the truth out, but I can tell it's not gonna be today. Maybe if I keep working to gain her trust and talk to her parents about getting those dresses out of her closet, Rose will eventually want to tell me. I know enough about girls her age to know that pushing her won't get me anywhere.
"I'll see what I can do," I promise. "I'll even buy some pants myself if I have to and keep them in the classroom for you."
Rose looks at me with those big green eyes that tug at my heartstrings. "Pinky promise?"
I smile and offer her my pinky. "Promise."
Surprisingly, that is the easy part of my day. Once school is out, I call Rose's mother into my now empty classroom and tell her that I'd like to talk to her and her ex-husband about Rose's tantrums. She assures me that there's no need to do that, but I'm not giving in this time.
"Miss Hail," I say, trying to sound soothing. "I'm calling in Rose's dad. We can have two separate meetings or one with all of us. That's your choice. I am talking to him about this."
So far, Rose's dad hasn't set foot in my classroom yet. He picks her up when it is his week, but since he apparently doesn't feel the need to talk to me like his ex-wife does, I have no clue what he's like. I've actually only met about half the dads, even though I had seen every single mom at least ten times in the two months that I've been working here. Equality and emancipation my ass. There are a lot more stay-at-home moms in this town than there were back home and the moms that do work, all work part-time. Not a lot of career women in this place. Some dads are very much involved, but a lot don't seem to be. I wonder what kind Rose's dad is. At least he's got 50-50 custody, which is more than most divorced parents. Most kids in my class with divorced parents only see their dad in weekends and during school holidays. Then again, her dad never took the time to meet her new teacher, so how involved can he really be?
"Fine," Miss Hail agrees at last. "Could it be today? His mom is sick and he's driving down there tomorrow, so if today isn't good for you, it'll have to wait another week."
I'm not sure if she's lying or not, but I can definitely tell that she's hoping I'll say no.
"Sure. I'm free all day. Now works, tonight works. Just name a time."
Her disappointment is obvious. She pulls out her phone and sends a text. The reply is quick and Rose's dad is free tonight, so we agree to meet back at the school at eight. I call John as well and he tells me he'll be there as well. He only teaches Rose one day a week, but she's been even nastier when it's his day, so he wants this resolved as well.
I make sure to shower and change into something that doesn't smell like vomit and sweat before heading back to school after dinner. Theresa got sick today and I ended up in the spray of a horrific projectile vomiting session, so I'm glad to get in some clean clothes. The joys of teaching second grade...
John is already waiting for me in the otherwise deserted school. It's weird to be in here after hours, when everything is dark and empty. Almost like we're teenagers breaking into the school after getting drunk at a party. Or maybe that's just my weird brain talking. Surely sixty-something John Fudge doesn't think about that stuff when he walks the halls in the dark.
Miss Hail is early and she's obviously annoyed that her ex isn't here yet. She keeps texting him, but John and I just keep calm and wait.
John and Miss Hail are talking about the weather – how dull – while I stare out the window at the moon. Finally, footsteps sound in the hall and I fix my hair in the window's reflection, hoping I look professional. Meeting new people who are older than me always makes me feel like I need to prove I am not just a 24-year-old girl, but also a capable professional.
His voice hits me like a ton of bricks before I can even turn around, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.
"Fuuuuuuck," he curses, his voice deep and with an edge to it. I know that voice. I know that edge.
I turn around slowly, keeping my gaze on the floor so I have a few more seconds to regain a shred of control. His shoes are black and shiny, his suit crisp and dark blue. Clenched fists, white dress shirt, red tie, irresistible stubble, piercing green eyes and that messy brown hair that feels so soft underneath my hands...
Nathan is Rose's father.
His eyes are wide in panic and he pulls a hand through his hair, unable to speak.
"For God's sake, Nate," Miss Hail says annoyed. "It's bad enough that you're late. Do you really need to curse?"
John looks from Nathan to me with a frown, which spurs me into action. I force my feet across the classroom and hold out my hand. "Nice to meet, you, Mr. Storm. I'm Caroline Collins, Rose's new teacher."
It takes him a second, but he finally shakes my band, both of us ignoring the electricity that shoots through both of us as we touch.
"Nathanial Storm," he says, voice tight. "Nice to finally meet you, Miss Collins."
Miss Hail breaks the tension by sighing dramatically. "You didn't even take a minute out of your oh-so-busy life to meet Miss Collins when she's been teaching our Rose for two months?" She clacks her tongue at him. "I apologize for my ex-husband's rudeness," she tells me with a wan smile. "Guess I was right for signing those divorce papers."
"Shut up, Elise," he grunts, his eyes still on me.
John clears his throat and gestures to the chairs. "Let's talk about Rose."
Right. Rose. I almost forgot this whole thing was my idea. Nathan seems incapable to stop staring at me, so it's up to me to act normal. I pull out my notes and start talking them through every single one of Rose's outbursts since I started working here. John chimes in every now and then, but he lets me take the lead. It helps to keep talking. It makes me feel more in control.
"I honestly don't get why we needed to come here at night to talk about a few childish tiffs," Elise Hail complains, tapping her perfectly manicured fingernails on the table. "I had to get my mom to watch Rose."
"I told you that I was free all day," I reply, trying to keep any snark from my tone and failing. Deep breath in. Exhale. Count to ten. "I'm merely concerned about Rose," I continue. "I don't know what is bothering her, but I'd like to find out. What are your thoughts?" I direct this question at Nathan, whose eyes are still on my face.
"I've never seen her act like that," he says gruffly. "I know she has tantrums, she has those at home too, but hitting other kids? Spitting? Throwing stuff? That's not the daughter I raised."
"Maybe she's just reacting to the fact that her old teacher got replaced by someone new?" Elise offers with a smirk. "I don't see her acting out at home at all."
"That's not true," Nathan steps in, finally moving his gaze to rest on his ex. "Your mother told me she kicks off at yours too. Like I said, I've seen it too. Just nothing that comes close to the extreme behavior that Miss Collins and Mr. Fudge just described. And Rose adores Miss Collins. She's been talking about her non-stop since she started working here."
That surprises me. I never knew his last name was Storm, so I had no way to connect him to Rose. He did know mine, since I had introduced myself to Annabel in front of him. Why hadn't he realized that I was that Miss Collins?"
"Of course the change can be a factor," I say to Elise, avoiding Nathan's stare. Did he know all along? "Although Rose seems at ease with me, honestly. Her tantrums are worse with John and he's known her since her first day at this school. And I also noticed that Rose only acts up around boys and only when she's in a dress." I leave out that she is sweeter when it's Nathans week with her. "I wonder if you share my observations."
Nathan sighs. "Ever since June or July, around that time, she started hating dresses, so I don't put her in them anymore. If she wants pants, I'm fine with that."
"She's a girl," Elise spits out. "We both know you wanted a boy. You'd love it if she started playing baseball and wearing nothing but sweats. I want my little princess to feel free to be a girl. She wears dresses."
John and I exchange a look. Honestly, I don't think that Elise is right. Nathan seems to just be easy-going and not care what his kid wears. The way he talks about his daughter – even before I knew that it was Rose – never indicated that he resents that she's a girl. She is his priority, always.
"You should know I promised her that she can change whenever she wants to," I inform them, trying to break through the tension in the room. "I'd like to have a change of clothes for her in the classroom so she can get out of her dress without having to walk around in her underwear again."
Elise Hail narrows her eyes at me. "That's not your place to decide."
"I'll buy the clothes myself," I say, struggling to sound calm and collected. "I get that I'm overstepping here, but I can't have Rose kicking off the way she does when she's in a dress. There are twenty-four other kids in this class who deserve a safe place and their share of my attention."
"Of course." Nathan puts a hand on Elise's knee to keep her calm. "I'll stop by soon with some clothes. No need for you to spend any money on our kid."
John thanks him with a smile. "We're not trying to punish Rose," he explains. "We just want to help her. You said she changed over summer. Did anything change during that time?"
"Don't you dare," Elise hisses when Nathan starts to speak. "Don't try to blame this on Trevor. We've been divorced for three years, Nate. Let me move on."
Oh. The new boyfriend. Yeah, that could be a factor.
"We're not here to find someone to blame," I assure Elise. "All we want is for Rose to feel safe and calm. To enjoy herself at school and to stop hurting other kids."
She relaxes slightly and pushes Nathan's hand from her knee. At least I don't have to worry about there being any love left between the two of them. "In June, I introduced by boyfriend Trevor to Rose. We've been dating since December. I don't just spring a guy I just met on Rose. I waited until we were serious and stable. He never even stays the night when it's my week with Rose. I seriously don't see how he would factor into this."
John and I try to smooth things over and he brings up the touchy subject of Rose talking to a professional, but even Nathan seems reluctant about that.
In the end, all that we can agree on is that she can change out of her dress if she wants to and that we all keep an eye on her. We promise to keep the others in the loop if Rose tell us something new, shake hands and then, finally, they leave. Nathan glances back one more time, his expression unreadable.
John sighs. "How those two ever got along long enough to have a kid baffles me. I'm afraid that Rose's fits aren't gonna go away if we don't figure out the cause."
I agree, but right now my mind is focused on Rose's father. I kept it together during the meeting, but I know I'm close to my breaking point now. Two nights ago, Nathan fucked me on the couch and in the shower. Today, he's suddenly Rose's father. Off limits. Forbidden fruit. Someone who could cost me my first stable job.
Goddamned.