Page 190 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
He nods.
A thought pops into my head, and I reach for my wallet and pull out a five-dollar bill. “Here,” I say, handing the money to Jack. “Tell Grant he can have five bucks if he gets off the swing now.”
Jack’s face lights up. “Awesome!” He grabs the money and runs back to the swings where he offers it to Grant. Grant immediately hops off the swing and takes the money.
Jack jumps into the swing and starts pumping his little legs back and forth. When he looks up and catches my eye, he gives me a big thumbs up, his toothy grin reaching me all the way across the playground.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m guessing bribery probably isn’t an acceptable parenting strategy. But I’m out of my depth here.
A few more minutes pass before Jack’s teacher claps her hands and calls the kids back to the classroom. Jack waves as he lines up, sending me another big grin, but then my eye catches on Grant, the swing thief, who is showing the money to his teacher.
Uh oh.
She calls Jack over who, of course, turns and points at me. Ms. Kennedy is frowning as she leaves her class with another teacher and walks toward me. There’s a gate out to the parking lot right behind me. I half consider making a break for it. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been scolded by a teacher. With the mood I’m in, I’m not sure I’m up for the experience now.
“Hello,” she says primly, stopping right in front of me. “I’m Ms. Kennedy, Jack’s teacher.”
I nod. “Nice to meet you.”
“You’re a friend of the family?”
She has to know I’m not Jack’s actual father, and for the purposes of this conversation, I’m okay with us leaving it at that.
I nod. “Something like that.”
“Yes, well, I am glad that you came to be with us today, but we don’t generally condone bribes as a way to motivate children to behave.” She holds out the five-dollar bill. “I think this belongs to you.”
I clear my throat and take the money. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Jack put me on the spot. I wasn’t sure how else to respond.”
“An honest mistake,” she says gently. “I always tell parents success with children is about steady, consistent discipline.” She eyes me, her gaze catching on the bottom half of my pant leg where the syrup is still clinging to my skin. “But don’t worry too much about it. Everyone has a bad day every once in a while.”
She turns to leave, but then stops and looks at me over her shoulder. “It took me a moment to figure it out, but you look just like that actor. Flint Hawthorne. Has anyone ever told you that before?”
I force a smile. “A few times.”
I head back to my car, Jack’s apple tree mug in hand, feeling more dejected than I have in a long time.
Jack needs steady, constant discipline? Do I even know what that means? I couldn’t even make it through a pancake breakfast line without falling apart. I gave himmoneyto bribe a kid into giving him what he wanted. That’s not even behavior I would condone in adults.
But hey! At least I look just like my super famous, successful, little brother.
I drive back to Lila’s overwhelmed and frustrated. Andconfused.
I thought I could do this. That I could step up and be a dad to Jack. But now I’m not so sure.
I sit in Lila’s driveway a long moment before slowly heading to her door. I’d hoped I could spend a few hours with her before heading back to Silver Creek, but I’m feeling a need to lick my wounds in private.
She swings the door open, her expression hopeful. “Hey! How did it go?”
I force a smile I hope she can’t see through. I can’t explain. Not yet. Not now. “Great. Great. I think Jack had a good time.”
She narrows her eyes, too perceptive. “And you?”
I nod, focusing on the one part of the day I can call a win. “He made me a really cool apple tree mug.”
“I’m sure it’s amazing. But tell me how you’rereallyfeeling right now.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I uh, well. I have syrup in my shoes, so that feels awesome. And you maybe need to have a conversation with Jack about twerking?”
