Room-maid(55)

“Hanging up decorations in a school gym? Does it get more exciting than that?”

I laughed softly and we walked over to another art piece that was bright red with various slivers of other colors showing through.

He pointed at the canvas. “That kind of looks like the borscht Oksana made me, doesn’t it?”

“A little.” Bringing her up made me wonder if he had someone else in his life that he hadn’t mentioned. I knew it wasn’t really my place to ask, but I had to find out the truth. It felt really important. “So I know Oksana’s not your girlfriend, but do you have a girlfriend? Or people that you’re dating?”

“Not at the moment. Not for a long time, actually. I’ve been too busy. The only special lady I have time for in my life is Pigeon.”

He flashed that megawatt grin of his at me and I pressed my arms against my sides so that I wouldn’t visibly react to his news. Because I wanted to jump up and down and that would get us thrown out of the art museum. Not to mention that he’d specifically said he was too busy to spend time with anyone yet that’s all we’d been doing recently. Spending time together. Was I becoming a little bit special to him, too?

He walked over to a painting that was mostly yellow crescents and circles, making me think of bananas and lemons.

Tyler doesn’t have a girlfriend, Tyler doesn’t have a girlfriend was on a singsong loop in my head, so I was startled when he said, “You’re stroking your purse.”

“Am I?” I glanced down and my hand was on my bag. “Sorry, I just really love it.”

“It’s a purse,” he repeated, as if I couldn’t possibly love an inanimate object.

“It’s not a purse, it’s a Birkin bag.” I took it out only for special occasions like this one. I’d had more than one nightmare about what my second graders might “accidentally” do to it if I was ever foolish enough to bring it to school. “It’s a very special type of bag by a designer who made a limited edition a long time ago and my grandmother gave it to me when I graduated from college. It’s easily my most prized possession. You should have seen my mother’s face when—”

I was cut off by the sight of my actual mother’s face. She was with my father talking to the mayor.

This was the problem with society events. Society tended to show up.

And I did not want to see or be snubbed by my parents. I didn’t want them to notice Tyler or have my two very separate worlds colliding. Because I knew they would automatically jump to the worst conclusion—that I was here with Tyler on a real date and at some point they would give me an earful over my “cheating on Brad and disgracing the family name.”

Not only that, much as she hated making a scene, there was a very real possibility that my short, pink-clad mother would try to physically fight me to get this bag. I never took it anywhere that I thought she might be.

I let out a little cough. “Hey, I’m suddenly not feeling all that great, could we go?”

Tyler said yes so quickly that I felt guilty for not suggesting it sooner.

When we got to the front of the building, he told me to stay put, that he’d get the car and bring it around. The museum had not provided valet service, something I’d overheard being repeatedly criticized. I believe the phrase “having to park like peasants” had been used.

It was a little nerve-racking waiting for Tyler to come back. I was afraid with every moment that passed that my parents would spot me and this evening would turn into a whole thing that I didn’t want to deal with.

Fortunately, he drove up a minute later, opening my door from the inside.

When I got in I said, “Thanks. You didn’t have to go get the car alone. I could have walked with you.”

He pulled forward, making his way through the parking lot and back out to the main road. “You said you weren’t feeling well. I was happy to do it. Besides, what are friends for?”

There it was. My daily reminder as to how he felt about me.

But if he was trying to make sure we were only friends, he was failing pretty miserably. Because the more time I spent with him, the more I liked him.



Before I went to bed for the evening, I’d put up a note on Tyler’s door (after our night that most definitely was not a date, especially considering that I’d ended up with a dog as my only sleeping companion) reminding him that we needed trash bags. I couldn’t help but add:

Also, Pigeon says to tell you she loves me more.

There was a reply from him on my door when I woke up the next morning. He said:

Lies. Don’t try and brainwash my dog.

My response?

Too late. She has a deep and abiding love for Snausages and I’m the one who provides them.

I went to work and started trying out the positive reinforcement plan. At first it felt unnatural for me to be constantly verbally praising the children for doing what I asked, but I could tell the kids weren’t sure what to think about it, either. But they quickly adapted and I saw that even Denny began to respond to it. I’d have to thank Tyler and his stepsister for the advice.

Lunchtime I’d had to bail on my friends to go to the gym to get my cancellation straightened out. Shay was particularly displeased since she had wanted to go over my conversation / museum outing with Tyler minute by minute so that we could analyze everything he and I had said under a microscope.