Page 11 of Destiny

“Can we watch Clifford?”

Typically, I wouldn’t let them watch TV in the morning, but I need the peace and quiet to prep for the deposition I have. “Yes.”

“Yay!”

“But just this once!” I call over the sound of the pitter and patter of their little feet.

Then, I get to work reviewing my notes and typing up questions and points of discussion that I need to cover with one of the main witnesses in a criminal case that I am trying to defend. When I went to law school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, it was my intent to practice environmental law in a big city, but when Clara insisted on returning to her small hometown, I became a general practitioner as one of the only lawyers around.

Now, she’s gone, and I’m stuck here. Well, not stuck. I do like it here, and there are plenty of good people around. But I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve been like if I moved to Chicago like I planned.

***

When Bea eventually comes to pick up the girls, I find it even harder than normal to meet her gaze after the dream I’d had.

“Morning!” she says cheerfully.

“Good morning. Thanks again for doing this.”

“You’re welcome. Are we all ready to go, A’s?

“Yep!” both of my daughters exclaim.

“Remember to give the lunch lady the checks I gave you for hot lunch.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, great. Do you mind helping me set up their car seats in my car? I want to make sure they’re put in correctly.”

“Sure. Of course.”

I follow her outside, and I zero in on her exposed skin. She’s wearing a tank top of some sort underneath a knit or crocheted sweater that is hanging from only one shoulder. I notice the freckles on the other. I’m lost in thought as I think about what it would feel like to bite and kiss her in that very spot.

“Marco?”

“What?”

“Can you please unlock your car?”

“Oh, sorry. Here. Let me grab those.”

“Thanks.”

With a few tugs, I make sure the seats are secure, and I hug my daughters before loading them into Bea’s tiny car.

“Have a good day at school! Listen to your teachers! Love you!” I say while waving.

After that, I go back into the house and continue my preparation... or at least I try to.

I cannot stop thinking about her. Her low, smokey voice. Her beautiful wavy hair. The way she chews on her lower lip when she’s concentrating on something.

***

We have a break around noon, and the tension in the conference room is high, and I have to get out of there.

So, with Bea still surrounding my mind, I decide that I’ll stop by the florist and get her a little gift to say thank you for helping me out that morning. I told her I’d meet her around that time anyway to swap the car seats back.

I decided to go with sunflowers. Something about them reminded me of her.

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