The Fourteen Day Soul Detox (2 page)

She started screaming and kicking the
chair.

Exiting the car, I climbed into the
backseat beside her. Reaching out, I put an arm over her so she
wouldn’t fall out of the car seat while she kicked.

When her kicking slowed down, I leaned
in close and said in a calm voice, “Do you want a squeeze?”

Big tears coursed down her face as she
said, “Yes, squeeze.”

Grabbing her under her legs and behind
her back, I lifted her into my lap. She curled up and I squeezed her
tightly against me. “It’s so important for gymnasts to
take deep breaths,” I told her. “Can you take some deep
breaths with me?”

She didn’t respond.

“Sarah,” I said in a quiet
voice into her ear. “Are you a gymnast or not a gymnast?”

“Gymnast,” she whispered.

“Okay, you ready to take ten
gymnast breaths with me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

We both breathed in deeply and then
exhaled. “One,” I said. We did it again and I counted,
“Two.” At ten, I opened the car door and we both climbed
out into the parking lot. Giving Sarah my hand, we walked into the
school campus. By the time we got there, the bus had already arrived
and Henry gave me a wave as we walked by.

“Good morning, Sarah,” a
school attendant whose name I couldn’t remember said as we
passed by.

When Sarah didn’t respond, I
stopped. “Sarah, she said good morning,” I said, smiling
at Sarah and gesturing to the attendant.

“It’s okay,” the
older lady said with a smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Hi!” Sarah said. We walked
up the hallway to Sarah’s classroom, passing several kids
carrying trays of breakfast food. Murals stretched along every wall
at Coral Beach School, most were done by kids but some were elaborate
and professional, like the one we were walking next to of
international students holding hands.

“Hi Sarah!” A boy called,
but he rushed off when Sarah didn’t respond.

“Remember to say hi to people,
angel,” I said when we got to her classroom. As we stepped
inside, three teachers and my friend Beza glanced up and smiled as we
entered.

“Hi, Sarah, hi Jamie,” Ms.
Ivy said as we entered the classroom.

“Hi,” I said, sliding my
sunglasses to the top of my head.

Sarah took off into the classroom,
bee-lining to the small trampoline they had in the corner.

Ms. Ivy stood up, following Sarah,
“Remember Sarah, just jumping. It’s not safe to do
gymnastics in the classroom.”

Sarah pulled the trampoline down from
where it was propped against the wall and started jumping.

“Hey lady, happy birthday,”
Beza said, stepping up next to me. Beza was one of the most beautiful
women I’d ever seen up close. She was half-Sudanese,
half-Native American and born in America. She had been an
international supermodel before she had Aiden.

“Thanks,” I said, giving
her a hug.

“You look hung-over,” she
whispered, chuckling.

“I wish,” I said, “Then
at least I would have had fun last night.”

“I bet you had fun this morning
though,” she nudged me.

“Not yet, but I plan to,” I
whispered.

“You’re bad,” she
said, winking at me. “How old are you turning today anyway,
twenty-five?”

“Yep, twenty-five, you got it in
one,” I said.

“Yeah, sure. Me too.” She
rolled her eyes with a smile and placed her hand on my arm. “So,
I think I should tell you, Susan was hurt when Amy uninvited her to
your birthday lunch.”

“What? Susan was uninvited?”
My jaw slackened. What the hell was going on with my sister?

“Yes, this morning,” Beza
sighed. “She just felt she was making some headway with your
sister, but felt pretty persecuted that she’d be uninvited.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t just
Susan, I guess Amy uninvited everyone without telling me. I mean I
know Amy has her weirdness, but I don’t think she was singling
Susan out.” I looked over to where Sarah was still jumping on
the trampoline, but now with Aiden. “It’s just so weird,
I mean, I’m cool with just having lunch us two, Amy never has
time for that. But why have me invite all my friends, just to rescind
the invitation?”

“That is strange,” Beza
said. “Well, are we still on for our birthday sleepover
tonight?”

“Yes, as long as you and Susan
are still cool with us sleeping over.”

“Are you kidding me? We’d
never miss a birthday sleepover. You know what’s crazy, Susan
pointed out this morning that you two have done this every year since
you were Aiden and Sarah’s age.”

“Yeah, that is trippy… and
those two have been doing it since birth,” I gestured to the
pair, who were now taking turns on the trampoline.

The first bell rang and Beza whispered,
“We should go.” Raising her voice, she called, “Aiden.”

“Aiden, honey, it’s time to
go to your classroom,” Sarah called back, making all of us
smile and Aiden laugh. Aiden ran over to us, and into me giving me a
big hug.

I patted his braided hair. “Hey
cutie. You are so sweet to visit Sarah every morning before class,”
I told him.

“I like it,” Aiden said
with a whistling voice, smiling up at me with his front teeth
missing. “Happy birthday!”

When we exited the classroom, Beza
said, “I wish you still dropped Sarah off every morning, I miss
this.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said,
“Though I’m so touched that you guys kept up this
tradition even though she takes the bus now.” I shifted down my
sunglasses so I could hide just how touched I was.

“Aiden gets as much out of it as
Sarah does,” Beza said, giving me one final hug. She whispered,
“Don’t look now, but Hunky Dad was right behind us and he
was looking over here.”

“Looking at you, I’m sure,”
I said, glancing down at my dirty jeans and sweatshirt ensemble. Beza
on the other hand, was dressed in a tailored suit and she was, you
know, a former supermodel.

Glancing over my shoulder she
whispered, “Nope, definitely at you. Wait here for a minute,
maybe he’ll finally talk to you.”

“Um, that’s okay. First,
I’m kind of excited to get home, and second, I’m not even
sure whether or not I brushed my teeth this morning. I don’t
want this to be the picture he has of me.”

“As opposed to what? Sweatpants
and a festival T-shirt?”

“You…” I said
pointing at her, “… you B-word I can’t say in
front of children.”

“Mom, I’m going to be late
to class,” Aiden said.

Beza smiled at me. “I have to go.
See you at five-thirty. Bring your sleeping bag.”

A second later, Hunky Dad passed me. He
wore a suit, but then again, he always wore a suit. This one was
charcoal grey. His blond hair was neat, combed back with a side part.
As he passed, he sent a grin over my direction. “Hi,” he
said, with a friendly smile.

My stomach did a little flip. Even
though Beza had told me that Hunky Dad had been looking over at me, I
had to resist the urge to check behind me to see if he was greeting
some other parent.

“Hi,” I said.

“You’re Sarah’s
mother, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said, seemingly
only able to come up with one syllable words. I honestly didn’t
blame myself. He was so gorgeous—like movie star gorgeous.

“My daughter Kay is in her class.
She talks about her all the time. I think they’re friends.”

I bit my lip, looking back to room
three where I’d just dropped Sarah off. I knew most of the
parents from Sarah’s special day class and I definitely would
have noticed Hunky Dad if he had been in there before. I was almost
certain that his daughter Kay would have to be in Sarah’s
typically-developing class she went to after lunch. To be sure, I
asked, “In room seven?”

“Yeah, with Ms. Keller,” he
said. “Would you ever be interested in setting up a play date
with the girls?”

“Oh, um, maybe,” I said,
glancing over at him to find him still smiling. I wasn’t
confident on how to proceed without being rude. “I… I’ve
only ever really set up play dates with parents of room three kids or
with my friends. I think we do things a little differently than the
other parents do.”

“No worries,” he said, “We
can do it your way. I’m Patrick by the way.” He reached a
hand out for me to shake.

“Jamie,” I said, shaking
his hand.

“I used to see you around here
every morning,” he said.

“Yeah, I work in the mornings
usually, so Sarah takes the bus now.”

“At the bar?” he asked,
holding the main door open for me.

“Not in the mornings.” I
cocked my head. “Wait, you know where I work?”

He shrugged, looking adorably sheepish.
“I take clients there once in a while.”

I stepped back out into the day, which
had cleared up in the short time I’d spent dropping Sarah off.
I turned back to Patrick. “Weird, I feel like I would have
noticed you there. Am I that oblivious?” I mumbled the last
part to myself.

“We don’t usually sit at
the bar,” he said.

“Well, next time say ‘hi’
and I’ll buy you a drink,” I said.

He stepped closer to me and grinned.
“I’d rather buy you one.”

Did Hell just freeze over, or was Hunky
Dad, himself, flirting with me?

“Yeah,” I said in a
teasing tone turning back to him, “But if you bought me a drink
and I drank it, I’d get fired.” I winked. It was a
barefaced lie; I could burn the bar to the ground and not get fired.
I stopped when I reached my used Toyota at the curb.

He grinned. “Well, maybe—”

“Patrick!” A woman’s
voice yelled.

He turned away and I looked over my
shoulder to the source of the noise, feeling a little annoyed. I
really wanted him to finish his sentence.

I didn’t feel any less annoyed
when I saw who it was. Whitney Cooper rushed toward us in her high
heels; she wore a dress and full makeup. The woman must wake before
the sunrise to look that picture perfect. I was pretty sure she
didn’t have a job either. And, I mean no disrespect to
stay-at-home moms, more power to her, but if I didn’t work I
would never get dressed up in the morning again.

“Patrick, I was hoping to run
into you,” she said, marching toward us. Her gaze passed on to
me, and the smile on her face faltered. She replaced it with a little
too wide grin. “Oh, hello Jamie, how are you doing today?”

“Good, Whitney, you?” I
said, though I really didn’t care.

“I am great, and happy I ran into
you two. I presume you’re both going to the
Principals and
Principles
fundraiser next weekend?”

“Next Saturday?” Patrick
said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, that’s the day,”
Whitney said, smiling.

“Oh, yeah, sure, Kay and I will
be there,” he said.

“Sorry, no,” I said.

“Oh, that’s too bad,”
Whitney said with a small grimace at me. “This would be a great
opportunity for you to help raise some money for all those services
you are demanding for your child.”

I gritted my teeth at her. I was pretty
sure if I drop kicked her here in the parking lot in front of the
school, no one would believe it was an accident. “What services
are you exactly referring to here, Whitney?” My calm delivery
of the question was Oscar-worthy.

“Oh, the ones you and your
husband are so vocal about in the school board meetings,” she
said, flashing another plastic smile my way.

“Do you mean when I said that the
school board shouldn’t lay off one of the two SDC teachers and
combine the classes? Are you referring to when I said that having
thirty-three SDC children aging between four and eleven in one
classroom was not acceptable to their parents? That their vast age
differences, overwhelming numbers and varying levels of disabilities
will not be conducive to providing these children with a safe and
intellectually supportive atmosphere? Are those the
services
you’re talking about?”

She shook her head. “Obviously,
this is a very sensitive subject and you look like you had a long
night.” She looked up to my messy ponytail as if it was
pitiable. “It’s unfortunate that there’s just not
enough money in the budget for—”

“But there’s enough for a
dance instructor to come in to teach the children daily?”

“Dance is very important”
she said, looking affronted. “It is arguably essential for
children’s development. And not every family has the money to
send their children to private dance classes.”

“Says one of the richest parents
in the school to one of the poorest,” I grumbled.

She sighed, shaking her head. She was
cool as the morning frost and I was ready to spill over with hot
tears. Patrick the Hunky Dad had been following the conversation back
and forth with his gaze, but shifted a little to stand beside me so
that we both looked over at Whitney.

Whitney rolled her eyes as if the whole
conversation was ridiculous. “Please don’t make this
personal, Jamie. And, as I said, the fundraiser next week is
essential so the school can have both dance class and services for
those with special needs. I would think that you would be jumping up
to help.”

“Unfortunately, I work Saturday
nights,” I said.

“Oh, yes, at that bar. I forgot.”
She gave me another icy smile. “Well perhaps your husband could
come in instead. He’s always so passionate at the meetings, I’m
sure he’d be happy to help. He’s a mechanic, isn’t
he? They don’t work long hours.”

Rolling back my shoulder, I told her,
“Cameron isn’t my husband, he’s just a friend.”

She blinked at me, and then looked down
at my wedding ring. “Oh,” she said.

I touched the wedding band, twisting
the ring around my finger. Patrick also looked down at my hand.

It was so awkward that this guy, of all
guys, had to witness this school-side drama.

From Whitney’s small smile, I
could tell she didn’t believe for a minute that Cameron was
simply a friend. Honestly, if any other woman told me that Cameron
was their ‘friend’, I’d doubt it too. He was just
too sexy, plain and simple. And even though I didn’t care what
Whitney thought of me, my daughter was going to go to this school for
a while, and Whitney was the head of its PTA.