Page 37 of Make It Without You

Me: Cleaning up the restaurant. Should be home shortly.

Jenny: Sounds good. Dylan went to bed about an hour ago.

Me: Thanks, Jenny.

Dammit. I really thought I’d be out earlier. But time just got away from me. I hope Jenny doesn’t have an exam tomorrow or I’ll really feel like dirt.

I make a list of what needs to be looked at around the restaurant, post a hiring ad for a host, and work with the chef on the menu for the next coming weeks.

A knock on my office door pulls me from my thoughts, “Restaurant’s all clean boss.” My bartender, Matt, holds out his money drops for the night to me.

Looking at the time, I see another hour has flown by. Shit! I place his envelope on my desk and gather my things. I shut my computer down and follow him out of the restaurant to lock up.

“See you tomorrow, boss man.” He calls before jogging to his car.

“Later.”

Me: Time got away from me. I’ll be home shortly.

Jenny: No worries.

With no traffic, I make it home in twenty minutes. I thank Jenny profusely for staying later than intended and watch to make sure she gets to her car to leave. I finish the closing shift of my downstairs before heading upstairs and peaking in at Dylan.

A surge of pride rushes through me that this little boy is healthy and happy. How Chelsea could up and leave not only me, but our son, baffles me. His nightlight gives me enough light to see as I walk into his room as quietly as possible. Pulling his comforter back over his body, I place a light kiss on his cheek and back out of his room as softly as I can.

I pad down to the opposite end of the hallway and into my bedroom. Stripping off my work clothes, I head for the shower. All the while I think about Emily. How she broke in front of a complete stranger.

My mind drifts for the second time tonight as I think about the possibility of us running into each other again. And then I come to the conclusion that Cincinnati is a big city and the odds of us seeing each other again is slim to none.

Emily

Three Months Later

“Okay, class don’t forget to finish the work you didn’t get to today along with three things that you’re thankful for.”

The hurrying and rustling of work being shoved into backpacks at the end of the day is a teacher's personal soundtrack. I stand at the threshold of the door and see them off to the bus loop.

“Ms. Bailey?” A small voice asks from the classroom.

I turn to see Dylan Montgomery sitting at his desk. His feet swing back and forth as he looks at me with eyes the color of moss. “Yes, Dylan?”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

A huff of laughter leaves me. He’s my most outspoken student, hence why he’s still here.

I check the time on my watch and see we have a little bit of time. “Okay, ya goof. Let’s go.”

He hops out of his chair and together we walk to the bathroom. I wait for him outside and when he’s done, we walk to the front office to see if I have any messages.

“Hi Patricia, do I have any messages?”

She thumbs through her notes before shaking her head. “Not today, sweetheart. But you do have some mail.”

Patricia goes to the mailroom and I glance down at Dylan. He’s in his own world watching his shoes tap together like Dorothy fromWizard of Oz.

“Here you go, honey.” Patricia says and hands me my small stack of mail.

“Thank you. Have a great evening. Come on Dylan, let’s see if your Dad is here.”

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