Page 4 of Ewan

“We were looking for the bathroom,” Elisa Rivera says.

She wears an elegant blue-gray skirt suit and a silky red blouse with a cute bow at the neckline. I feel so bad that she had to witness my outburst. I also feel like chastising myself even more for losing my grip, but this is not a good time.

“Sure,” I say, showing her to the men’s room.

She nudges her son in that direction, and Colley looks at her before moving his eyes to me.

“Go,” his mother says. “ I need to have a word with Miss Scarlett.”

Colley shoots his mother a concerned look before vanishing inside the bathroom.

His mother, a woman in her thirties with a clipped smile and a stern expression, feels the need to explain his behavior.

“You are still his favorite teacher,” the woman says before grabbing my elbow and pulling me to the side, tossing a glance at Kailey as in ‘she better give us some privacy.’

Elisa leans closer to me, her hair and clothes bearing the sweet-sour scent of ripe tangerines.

“What just happened?” she asks, perfectly within her right to do so.

She made this party possible by speaking to someone in her family and booking this exquisite event place.

“I think you’ve heard most of it,” I say. “None of that is our fault.”

She stops me with a swiftly lifted finger.

“What are you going to do about that?”

I wish I had the perfect answer, but for the next few moments, I just express my frustration while reassuring her that things will be taken care of.

Neither of us realizes that her son has long left the bathroom and has become the quiet witness of my personal struggle.

The woman offers a few suggestions, but none of them seem to work. It’s too late, too far, or not the right person to put that Santa costume on and get in the character.

Not to say, we don’t have a costume on the premises.

The guy who was supposed to play Santa was also responsible for bringing his Santa costume to the party.

Ugh.

“What about Ezra?” A little voice drifts to our ears.

Both Elisa and I move our focus to her son while Kailey looks like a statue a couple of feet away from us.

“Who is Ezra?” I ask as Elisa seems frozen in thought, contemplating that option.

The woman squares her shoulders and starts digging into her purse, and my hand lands on her arm.

“Who is Ezra?” I ask before looking at Colley.

He answers before she does.

“He’s my cousin.”

I shift my gaze to his mother.

“Is that an option?”

Elisa’s cheeks seem carved in stone as she finally fishes out her phone and flicks her shoulders in a quiet ‘I don’t know.’

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