Page 27 of Claimed By the Don

“You’re putting off the inevitable.”

“I’m working on what I’ll say to him,” I say, knowing it sounds stupid.

“Just remember that Liam is the priority,” she says dubiously.

“He always has been, Mom. That’s how I got here in the first damn place.”

As I’m leaving work the next evening, Sasha calls after me.

“See you in half an hour, right?”

“What?”

“Kindergarten open house? It’s at five-thirty. We talked about it last week when the emails went out.”

“Shit,” I say, clap my hand over my mouth. “I’ve got to go get Liam from my mom. I’ll see you there.” I double check the email and see that it’s today, not next week like I put in my calendar. I screwed up the date and now I’ve got to hurry.

At the house, I call out to the backyard for Liam to come change clothes and brush his teeth.

“Why?” he whines, coming to the kitchen door.

“We’ve got to go meet your teacher and see what your class looks like.”

“Now?”

“Guess so, buddy. I had my days mixed up. We gotta hurry.”

I convince Mom to go with us. We pull into the parking lot right at five-thirty, and it’s crowded. A woman greets us, and I get the registration paperwork, the list of supplies. We sit at tiny chairsin the library while I fill out pages of information and Liam plays on my phone.

At last, I finish up and we get directions to his classroom. Sasha’s blowing up my phone by this time asking where we are.

“I’m just slow with paperwork,” I mutter into the phone, “We’re coming.”

“They’re in the same class!” she crows, “We’re hanging around waiting for you to get here.”

We get to the classroom, and Liam runs to Sasha and her son immediately. I settle my mom in a chair and wait to talk to his teacher. The room is cute, everything labeled in colorful cubbies.

“I’m Carla Sanchez,” the teacher says to me. “This must be Liam,” she nods toward my son who’s playing with Sasha’s little boy at a sand table.

“Yes, this is my Liam,” I say, pride evident in my voice.

“I looked over Liam’s records from his PreK in Seattle. He’s a smart little guy. We’re going to have a fun year.”

“Thank you. I’ll get the stuff on this list, and we’ll be ready.”

“Sounds great. Here’s the information sheet on our schedule, and it has my contact info on it. Just let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thanks,” I say to her.

My mom’s chatting to some woman she knows, so Sasha and I take the boys to the bounce house in the play area. By the time I manage to drag a tired, sweaty Liam away from that it’s eight o’clock. When we get home, it hits me all at once. I forgot to call Benny and cancel. I was so frantic to get to the school on timethat I didn’t remember to tell him something came up. I look at my phone and see alerts for texts and a voicemail. I feel awful.

When Liam’s asleep I read the texts and message him.Something came up. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you” He doesn’t respond for a while, and when he does it’s not good. My stomach plummets and I feel sick.

Forget it,he replies.

Meet me for breakfast, let me explain?I ask. Again, I wait half an hour before he messages back an ‘ok’.

I try and think about what to tell him that isn’t, ‘I had kindergarten open house for the son you don’t know you have.’

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