Page 15 of The Parent Pick-Up
Ivy’s been avoidingme for weeks.
At parent pickup, she hurries off before I can say a word. My weekly emails don’t get a response. And when I’d taken Hannah over to her house for a playdate, she hadn’t even lowered her headphones to greet me. She’d just ushered Hannah inside and all but slammed the door in my face.
I’m not sure what I did to get on Ivy’s shit list, but that’s clearly where I am. Luckily I have an entire day of chaperoning the fall field trip to Camp Falconview with her to figure it out.
When I drive up to the school and see Ivy right away, I’m hit with a gut punch. I can’t help remembering that almost-kiss in my back yard.
For the first time in years, I’d thought about kissing a woman. Ivy had brought life to parts of me I’d thought were long dead.
Then, I’d found out her daughter was in my class, and I’d ruled out a relationship. My priority was Olivia, not Ivy.
The decision hadn’t been easy, and when I’d seen her at Open House, looking adorable in a baggy button-down covered in paint and glitter, I’d second-guessed everything.
I deserved love, didn’t I?
So what if Olivia was in my class?
We could take it slow, just be friends for a while. And when Olivia moved on to fourth grade, we could explore dating. I was fine with slow and steady. It had been so long since I’d dated; I needed the time to remember how.
My stride falters when Ivy looks up from tying Olivia’s hiking boots and sees me. Our gazes meet, and she gives me a cool smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
Meanwhile, my heart is racing so hard, it might explode from my chest like in one of those cartoon drawings. I’m sure everything I’m feeling shows on my face as I cock my head and study her.
“How are you?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’ve missed her like a lost puppy.
“Fine.”
Her voice is clipped. And so quiet, I have to lean closer to hear if she’ll say more.
She doesn’t.
And although I can’t see her expression behind those dark sunglasses, I can sure feel the daggers shooting from her eyes.
Frustration knots my stomach. “Have I done something?”
Her mouth thins into a tight line, and she looks like she’s about to let me have it when Olivia interrupts us.
“Mommy,” Olivia says, pulling Ivy down to her level to whisper in her ear.
Ivy listens, then straightens and takes her daughter’s hand. “Good thinking, Liv. We’ll be right back.”
They hurry off toward school entrance, presumably to use the facilities one last time before the bus takes off for the one-hour drive to Camp Falconview.
While they are gone, the rest of us load up on the bus. I slide onto the bench seat by myself, somewhat lost without my daughter on the trip. Hannah has come to Camp Falconview every year since kindergarten, but this year, her mother requested her for the weekend. They’re going to spend the day in the city. Shopping, high tea, and a musical were promised, and a day of hiking in the wilderness can’t compete with that.
The chatter and laughter from the other kids on the bus only adds to my melancholic mood.
Without Hannah sitting quietly beside me, studying the scenery and pointing out her favorite trees and hilltops, it’s just not the same.
Maybe I should have sat this trip out and spent my rare childless weekend with some friends watching college football and gorging on chicken wings and beer, but as Mr. Taylor, third grade teacher, I felt obligated to volunteer.
Plus, I don’t really like beer.
And when I’d seen Ivy Ickerson’s name on the chaperone’s list, I’d nearly tripped over myself in my hurry to volunteer. Surely at some point during this all-day field trip, we’d have a chance to finish the conversation Olivia had interrupted.
Ivy and Olivia finally board the bus. Olivia rushes down the aisle toward her friends in the back, leaving Ivy standing alone at the front of the bus.
She lowers her sunglasses and looks around, seeming just as lost as I feel.
