Back to You

  He’d had enough of the torturous formalities, he realized. He wanted their friendship back.

  And he was going to try.

  If she wouldn’t, if she refused, he would understand. But if she allowed him back into her life, despite everything that had happened, he would make sure he made things right.

  He would never betray her again.

  When Michael reached the end of the tube, he nodded at Dean and they unrolled the sheet. Michael knelt down on one side and Dean crossed to the other, taking a marker out of his back pocket, and together they began marking where the rivets would go.

  “Hey, what’s a nice restaurant around here?” Michael asked with the cap of the marker between his teeth as he marked the last rivet.

  “Upscale? Or just good food?”

  “Either.”

  “Gamble Mill Tavern over on Dunlap is good. Reasonable prices.”

  “Yeah?” Michael said, standing as he capped his marker and slid it into his back pocket before he turned to grab the nearby drill.

  “But if you want to impress her, and you got the cash to do it, take her to Labella Trattoria,” Dean said, glancing up with a knowing smirk before he slid a two-by-four under the sheet to reinforce it.

  Michael laughed and shook his head as he grabbed a pair of protective goggles. “Think you’re so fucking smart.”

  “Thinking and knowing are two different things,” Dean said, placing his hands on either side of the markings to hold it steady while Michael lined up the drill. “On second thought, do the Trattoria,” he added. “It seems like she’s worth it.”

  Michael stopped. “What are you saying that for?”

  Dean looked up. “Because of that right there,” he said, nodding in Michael’s direction. “That look on your face. As soon as I mentioned her,” he added, looking down and gesturing for Michael to make the first rivet.

  He stared at Dean for a second before he dropped his eyes and pulled the trigger, and the sound of grinding metal filled the space between them.

  At four thirty, Michael sat in the front seat of his car, scrubbing his hands with an antibacterial wipe, but it was in vain.

  “Oh, screw it,” he huffed as he crumpled the wipe with his still-dirty hands and tossed it somewhere on the passenger side.

  He exited the car, running his hand through his hair as he approached the entrance of Learn and Grow. He could see a few of the other parents waiting in the vestibule, and as he approached the glass doors, he noticed Lauren standing in the doorway of the pre-K room, calling those children whose parents were waiting and helping them on with their backpacks.

  As Michael opened the door, she looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Lauren called the children one by one, and Michael waited patiently as the group of parents dwindled.

  “See you tomorrow, Jack,” she said, waving to the little boy who ran out to his mother, and then the vestibule was empty. Lauren turned to look at him.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey. How was she today?” he asked, playing into their usual routine.

  “Perfect. I’m going to start her and another little boy on some kindergarten material. They’re ready for it.”

  “Really? Wow,” Michael said, his expression a cross between surprise and pride. “Thank you, for going above and beyond like that.”

  “Trust me, I’m doing very little to get her there. She’s incredibly bright.”

  He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “So…is there anything I should be doing with her at home?”

  “Um, I can get you some workbooks to do with her,” she said, scooping her hair back into a makeshift ponytail, and when she let it fall, he caught the scent of her shampoo.

  She turned then, motioning to someone inside, and he closed his eyes and exhaled.

  Just do it, he thought.

  “So, I was thinking,” he said when she turned back around. “We never get to talk here. Do you want to maybe grab dinner with me? Catch up a little bit?”

  Her face instantly dropped, and Michael’s heart followed.

  “Oh…I, um…I just…I don’t…”

  “Miss Lauren’s coming to dinner? Yay!” Erin squealed from behind Lauren, and Michael closed his eyes and cringed.

  He never would have asked had he known Erin was within earshot; he didn’t want her to be disappointed, and he definitely didn’t want Lauren to think he was using his daughter as a pawn. But as he opened his eyes, he saw Lauren looking down at her, and it was hard to regret his little slip-up.

  Because he knew by the look on Lauren’s face that she didn’t want to disappoint her either.

  She exhaled heavily, nibbling on her thumbnail before she glanced at Michael. “Um, okay, yeah. I guess we can do that.”

  “Yay!” Erin squeaked again, dancing in place.

  “Go get your backpack, honey,” Lauren said to her, and Erin darted back into the classroom.

  “I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “I didn’t realize she was there.”

  “It’s okay,” Lauren said, but her eyes were uneasy.

  “Where are we going?” Erin asked as she ran back to them, dragging her backpack.

  “How about—”

  “How about Chuck E. Cheese?” Lauren said, cutting Michael off.

  “Yeah!” Erin cheered, jumping up and down, and Lauren squatted down to help her put her backpack on.

  Michael smiled half-heartedly, running the back of his hand over his eyes. He had wanted to take her to one of the restaurants Dean told him about. After all, Chuck E. Cheese wasn’t the kind of place where they could sit down and have an uninterrupted conversation.

  Although, maybe that was exactly what Lauren had in mind when she suggested it.

  “Okay, so I’ll just meet you over there?” Lauren said as she stood, looking at Michael.

  “Sounds good,” he said, forcing a smile. As Erin ran to him and hugged him around the leg, his smile turned genuine as he looked down at her and placed his hand on her head.

  “Alright, I’m just gonna grab my things.” She turned her attention to Erin and winked. “See you in a little bit.”

  As soon as she had disappeared back inside the classroom, Erin grabbed his hand and started towing him toward the door. “Come on, Daddy! Come on! We’re going to have dinner with Miss Lauren!”

  And he laughed as she dragged him toward the exit, because he was just as excited as she was.

  Lauren and Michael sat at a booth with two substandard salads on the table between them, surrounded by the sounds of bells ringing and children yelling and laughing. Erin remained in Michael’s line of sight, just as she promised, running around the Toddler Zone as she waited for her pizza to arrive.

  “Sorry about this,” Michael said, gesturing toward the salads. “We didn’t have to come here.”

  “That’s okay,” she said before she turned to look at Erin. “She’s having fun. She’ll sleep great tonight,” she added with a laugh, and Michael smiled.

  “How long have you been teaching preschool?”

  “About two months.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows, and she nodded. “Yeah. My first day was Erin’s first day.”

  “No shit?” he said, immediately cupping his hand over his mouth as he looked around.

  Lauren tried not to laugh, and Michael looked down at his salad and chuckled. “So what were you doing before that? Were you in school?”

  “No, I was still teaching,” Lauren said. “Except I taught kindergarten. I’m working at the day care now while I get my master’s degree.”

  “Oh yeah? What are you going for?” Michael asked.

  “Child psychology.”

  Michael looked up at her, and she glanced at him before she cleared her throat and rooted through her salad.

  “So, what do you do?” she asked.

  “I work construction.”

  “Oh, that’s right. A bin knocker.”

 
Michael smiled. “A tin knocker.”

  She glanced up at him with an embarrassed laugh. “Clearly, I have no idea what that is.”

  He flicked a piece of wilted lettuce with his fork as he laughed. “I fabricate and install ductwork in the heating and cooling systems of buildings.”

  “Oh,” she said. “That sounds…difficult.”

  “Nah,” he said with a dismissive shake of his head. “It pays the bills though, for now. I’m going back to school part time.”

  Lauren looked up at him and smiled, and he swallowed hard as his stomach flipped. It wasn’t the strained, polite smile she’d been giving him for the past two months. It was his favorite smile.

  The same proud smile she wore in the graduation picture.

  “Good for you,” she said. “What are you going for?”

  “Mechanical engineering,” he said, looking away and hoping she couldn’t see how thrown he was by her reaction.

  “Here you go,” the waitress said as she brought the pizza to the table, and Erin came running out of the Toddler Zone when she saw it arrive.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, hopping up onto the bench next to Lauren, who scooted over with a smile.

  “Hold on, honey, let’s clean your hands first.”

  Michael watched as Lauren reached in her purse for a sanitizing wipe and gently cleaned Erin’s hands.

  The heavy ache settled in his chest again, and he distracted himself by handing out slices of pizza to everyone.

  “Yummy!” Erin said as she chewed her first bite, and Michael looked down at the second-rate pizza on his plate, complete with goopy red sauce and orange cheese.

  “Yeah, yummy,” he deadpanned, and Lauren giggled to herself as she took a sip of her water.

  Michael picked up his pizza and took a bite, and when he lifted his eyes, he froze. Lauren was watching him, and her eyes were glassy with what looked like unshed tears.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “You still do that,” she said with a sad smile.

  Michael pulled his brow together and looked down at himself.

  He was holding the slice backward, completely intact except for the large bite he had taken out of the crust.

  He blinked before he looked back up at her, but she had already turned her attention to Erin.

  “How’s your pizza?”

  “Good,” Erin mumbled around a large mouthful of food, and Lauren laughed, sliding Erin’s drink closer to her. She grabbed it with both hands, taking a long sip through the straw.

  “Are you somebody’s mommy?” she asked after she had swallowed.

  “No, I’m not,” Lauren answered.

  “How come?”

  “Erin,” Michael said firmly.

  “No, it’s okay,” said Lauren before she turned back to Erin. “Because I haven’t met someone who would be a good daddy yet. When I find someone who I think will be a good daddy, then I’ll be ready to be a mommy.”

  “My daddy’s a good daddy,” she said, and Michael choked on the sip of soda he’d just taken, covering his mouth to mask the coughing.

  “Well you’re a lucky girl,” she answered without missing a beat.

  “You’ll be a good mommy,” Erin stated matter-of-factly, and Lauren rubbed her hand over Erin’s hair.

  “Thank you.”

  “My mommy lives far away.”

  Michael looked up just in time to see Lauren’s eyes flash to his, her expression startled.

  “But she still loves me a lot. Daddy, can I go back and play some more?”

  Michael cleared his throat. “Um…yeah. Go ahead, baby.” Before he even finished his sentence, Erin was out of the booth and running back toward the Toddler Zone.

  “God, I’m so sorry about that,” Michael exhaled.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve spent the past three years working with five-year-olds. Her line of questioning was mild by comparison.”

  Michael laughed softly, tossing his pizza to his plate. “God, this is awful.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had better,” she said with a laugh before she turned to look at Erin. “Look at her,” she smiled. “Have you thought about enrolling her in gymnastics?”

  Michael looked over to where Erin was attempting cartwheels with another little girl in the play area.

  “I haven’t. I don’t know of any places around here. And besides, she’s a Delaney no matter how many times, le, so I didn’t think gymnastics would be in the cards for her.”

  Lauren put her drink down abruptly, covering her mouth to avoid spitting all over the table, and Michael grinned. “You remember?” he asked.

  “Of course I remember,” she said through her laughter. “That was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. My God, you looked like an arachnid or something. Just legs and arms everywhere.”

  “Hey!” he said in mock offense. “I had never done anything remotely gymnastics related, and you expected me to be able to just do a backflip!”

  “It wasn’t a backflip,” she scoffed. “It was a back handspring. Much easier. You get to use your hands for that.”

  “Still,” he laughed. “And anyway, I think maybe I could have learned how to do it if my instructor hadn’t been laughing and making fun of me the whole time.”

  Lauren laughed again, staring at her straw as she twirled it between her fingers. She inhaled deeply, and when she exhaled, her face changed; her smile dropped and she pulled her brow together.

  No, Michael thought. No, don’t go backward.

  Lauren shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. “I’m gonna go to the ladies’ room,” she said, glancing up at him with the same contrived smile he had become so familiar with over the past two months. Before he could even respond, she was out of her seat and walking quickly toward the lobby.

  Michael dropped his head against the back of the booth and closed his eyes.

  In that moment, for just a split second, she had been the Lauren he left behind all those years ago. And although he had no right to expect that version of her, he still felt cheated when she retreated back to her guarded self.

  When he watched her with Erin, he could see the real her: the kindness, the humor, the tenderness.

  But the second she turned to look at him, the slight veil would shade her eyes, and the invisible wall would go up.

  It could have been worse; he recognized that. She didn’t have to be as nice as she was being to him. She could have berated him, castigated him, told him exactly what she thought of him and exactly where he could go.

  Or worse, she could have refused to acknowledge him all together.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she tried to keep things amiable, and he should have been happy about that. He tried to be happy about that.

  But it just wasn’t enough.

  Because as kind as she was trying to be, he could still so clearly remember the way she used to look at him.

  March 2001

  Lauren sat on the wall near the faculty parking lot waiting for the late bus to arrive. A crowd of other students waited as well—laughing, talking, sitting on the ground trying to get some homework done—but Lauren sat by herself, her eyes downcast as she absently picked at the strap of her book bag.

  “Jesus. Did someone kill your puppy?”

  Lauren glanced up to see Michael walking toward her, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He leaned over and bumped fists with his friend Jay, who walked off in the other direction as Michael continued toward her.

  “No,” she smiled half-heartedly. “I don’t have a puppy.”

  “Ah. So is that why you got that mug on?” he asked as he reached the wall where she was sitting, nudging her leg with his shoulder.

  “No,” she said with a tiny laugh. “It’s just been a bad day.”

  Michael stood with his back to the wall and reached up behind him; with a quick jump, he was up and sitting beside her. “Do I need to kick somebody’s ass?”

  She laughed to herself and shook her head, and th
en she reached up and fanned the air in front of her face, scrunching her nose at him. He rolled his eyes before he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it over the wall behind them.

  “So what’s the problem?” he asked.

  Lauren sighed. “It’s just been a frustrating day. For starters, neither one of my parents are coming to my meet this weekend, and it’s the biggest one of the season.”

  “Why aren’t they coming?”

  “My dad’s gonna be away on business, and now my mom has to go help my grandma move because my aunt can’t do it anymore.”

  “Okay,” Michael nodded. “What’s the other problem?”

  Lauren shook her head and looked down. “It’s stupid. I just found out I won’t be able to run for student government next year.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it coincides too much with gymnastics.”

  Michael leaned back on his hands. “So fix it.”

  Lauren looked over, her brow pulled together.

  “If you want to do both, then do both. Talk to your coach. See if you can work something out. Or talk to the student advisor. The whole point of being on student government is to bring about change, right? It’s stupid that athletes can’t participate. You should say something.”

  “I’m not good at confrontation.”

  “True,” he said. “But you’re good at being reasonable. It’s a reasonable request. I mean, they might still say no, but shit, at least you’ll know you tried.”

  Lauren nodded, looking down as she swung her feet.

  “If you really want something, you shouldn’t stop until you get it, no matter what you have to do. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “As for the other thing,” Michael said, looking off into the distance. “I mean…is it that important for you to have someone at your meet?”

  Lauren looked down as she began picking at the straps of her backpack again.