Page 6 of Impossible

Chapter Three

Riley

“Miss Jones, I made you something,” Mia stands next to me at my desk. She reaches up and hands me a piece of purple construction paper folded in half.

I open it and the inside is filled with rainbows, stars, and hearts. She wrote ′Ms. Jones is the best’in her five year old handwriting. My hand comes up to my heart as I take in her words. This is my favorite part of teaching little kids. They are always so eager to show off their new skills. We just learned these words in our lesson this week.

“Mia, I love it! Thank you so much. And you did such a great job writing your words. I’m so proud of you for all you have learned this year. You worked very hard.” She smiles up at me with such pride.

This is our last week of school before summer break. I always have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I’ve been counting down the days until break, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss these kids.

The bell rings and the kids begin to pack up their bookbags. Once they have all been dismissed to either the bus or the car ride line, I begin to take down the decorations around the room. As I’m pulling a purple border off the trim of the bulletin board, Tiffany walks in and takes a seat at my desk.

“Oh, gosh. Thank god today is over. My kids were in rare form today. I couldn’t get them to focus on anything for longer than a couple minutes.”

“One of those days,” I continue to dismantle the board. “You need some wine and ice cream.”

“Yes! That is exactly what I need. Wanna come over tonight for dinner?”

“I have plans tonight. Rain check?”

“Sure. Where are you going?” Tiffany stands up and begins to help me pack everything up in a box for storage.

“I’m going to see Liam and Harper. Becca’s daughter,” I clarify.

“That’s right. I forgot about that. How are you doing with everything?”

“I’m better, I guess. I still reach for the phone to call her or remind myself to tell her something next time I talk to her. I guess that habit was formed over two decades of friendship, it will take a while to break.”

“Well, I’m here for you if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Tiff. I appreciate it.”

We finish packing up the rest of the paper before we grab our bags and begin to walk out to the car. The parent pick up line is gone, leaving just the staff’s cars in the parking lot. I reach my car and open the back seat door to put my box in the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun tonight,” Tiffany says before she ducks into her car.

When I’m five minutes from Liam’s house, I begin to feel nervous at the thought of walking into Becca’s house without her being there. I think a part of me was trying to avoid this moment. The reality of everything will come crashing down on me when there are signs of her everywhere. I’m so used to knocking on the door to have Becca’s bright and shiny smile greeting me on the other side. She would always yell at me for knocking, telling me I could let myself in. Now I’m standing at the front door with trembling hands as I knock, knowing she won’t be there to answer.

Liam opens the door, holding a crying Harper as he bounces her in his arms. He is wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt with a blue Chicago Cubs hat on.

“Hey, come on in,” he leaves the door open as he begins to back away. “Sorry, I was in the middle of making her a bottle. Once she is hungry, there is no turning back.”

I smile as I walk into the house. The cries of Harper keep getting louder as Liam struggles to use his only free hand to get everything ready. When I see him trying to open the formula tub to measure the powder, I decide I should probably help him out.

“Here,” I reach my arms out. “Let me take her while you make the bottle.”

He looks at me like he is a little embarrassed to be caught struggling. “Thanks. I’m sorry.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Are you apologizing because your daughter is crying or because you don’t have three hands to hold her and make the bottle?”

“Both?” he smirks at me.

I bounce Harper around, but Liam is right, there is no comforting this girl right now. She is adamant about getting this bottle. I smile at her as I think about how Becca would get when she was hungry.Just like your momma.

“Okay, sweet girl,” Liam grabs Harper and places her in the crook of his arm. She is quiet as soon as the bottle nipple is in her mouth. “Come on, let’s go sit on the couch.”

I follow him into the family room, and we take a seat on the large sectional couch while he continues to feed Harper. Her chubby little hand is resting on his as she looks up at her daddy while eating. It’s a sweet moment and it feels wrong for me to be a part of it without Becca. It all feels wrong without her here. I feel tears start to build up on the rims of my eyes and I blink quickly to keep them from spilling over. I’m here to spend time with my best friend’s baby, not make her husband feel like he needs to comfort me.

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