The After of Us (Judge Me Not #4)(44)

Following behind me as I step onto the trail, he says, “Ooh, leading me into the deep, dark woods. What exactly do you plan to do with me, naughty girl?”

I let go of his hand so I can turn around and swat his chest. “Nothing like what you’re thinking, perv.”

“Too bad.”

He sounds genuinely disappointed, and I consider for a minute whether we could mess around down in the woods. But then I remember Father Maridale, still up at the school, processing registrations, and I determine messing around is probably not such a good idea.

I duck under a tree branch, and Will reaches forward to lift it out of my way. “Thanks,” I say.

“For you, my darling, anything.”

I shake my head at his playful and exaggerated tone. “Come on, Mr. Chivalry, we’re almost there.”

Thirty seconds later, we walk into a clearing. There’s an old metal swing set that’s no longer in use located smack-dab in the middle of the field.

“This,” I say, heading toward the swings with Will trailing behind, “is what I want to show you.”

“Pretty cool,” he states when we reach the dilapidated, old swing set. “So, how long has this ancient relic been here?”

I smack his arm. “I’d say long before our time, smartass.”

When I plop down on the worn wooden seat of one of the swings, Will’s brow creases and he asks, “Is that thing safe?”

There are three swings in total, but the wooden seat to the far left rotted in the middle and has since broken in half. Motioning to the busted swing, I reply, “As long as you don’t try to sit your ass on that one, you should be fine.”

Chuckling, Will plops down on the intact swing next to me. “So, now what happens?” he asks.

I push off. “We swing, silly.”

At first, Will is hesitant. He drags his feet back and forth on the ground, his swing barely moving. But once I get going, he soon joins me.

Flying high, to and fro, feels as freeing as it did back when I was a kid. And when Will starts to laugh, I know this is good for him, too. Sometimes you need to let go a little so you can forget the trials of adulthood, even if only for a short while.

When we finally slow our swings, and eventually come to a full stop, we end up talking about Lily and the upcoming school year.

Our childhood foray is over, back to the real world.

Will asks me something about Lily’s curriculum, and I remind him that, unlike with daycare, Lily won’t be in my class.

“I teach first graders, Will. Remember? It’s the same position Kay once held.”

Will then proceeds to pepper me with dozens of questions about the current teacher, Mrs. Salazar, a young woman who’s due to have a baby in December.

“Is she as good as you?” he asks.

I blush at the compliment. “Yes, Will. She’s great. The kids love her.”

“But she’s taking maternity leave around Christmas, right? Who’ll fill in?”

“I’m not sure,” I reply honestly.

“Can I meet this Mrs. Salazar before Lily starts school?”

“I’m sure you can.”

“What if Lily doesn’t like her?”

I sigh. “Will, really?”

For a guy who once planned to place Lily in twelve hours minimum of daily daycare up in New York City, he sure has changed his tune. Talk about an overly concerned father.

“Everything will be fine,” I assure him.

Truthfully, Will’s concern for Lily makes me love him even more.

A few days later, and still a couple of weeks before school starts, we get word that Mrs. Salazar has been put on bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy.

“Now what will Lily do?” Will wants to know.

A new wave of worry now plagues the poor guy.

“Father Maridale will find someone competent to take over,” I assure him.

“Yeah, like who?”

This conversation occurs in Chase and Kay’s dining room. We were invited over for an end-of-summer cook-out. Chase is in the back, grilling and watching the kids as they play, and Kay is in the kitchen, which is directly off the dining room. She’s boiling freshly picked corn, as I hear her stirring the water.

Kay must hear our discussion of the school situation, for she comes in after a minute, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Hey, what about me?” she asks, smiling surreptitiously.

I give Will a look that implores: Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?

He shrugs as Kay walks over to stand next to his chair. Glancing up at her, he asks, “What’s up, my favorite sister-in-law?”

She swats him with the towel. “I’m your only sister-in-law,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Still my fave,” Will states matter-of-factly.

I chuckle at their banter. Will’s really becoming an integral part of their family. It’s like he was an outsider for so long, mostly of his own doing, but not anymore. He’s found his place here.

Will then asks Kay, “So, why do you look so smug?”

“Maybe it’s because I have some good news,” Kay replies.

“Oh, is it something to do with the school situation?” I interject.

“Yes.”

Will puts it together, same as I do, and, as he does, hope blooms in his verdant eyes. “And this good news would be…?” he asks.