Meet Me Halfway (Learning to Love Series)
Meet Me Halfway: Chapter 5

We were going to be late. Between the wine and the drama—frankly just about everything last night—I’d forgotten to set my alarm for the first time in years.

Thankfully, my body was so used to getting minimal sleep, sleeping in equated to only an extra half hour. However, when you only give yourself one hour to wake up, get ready, drop your kid off, and get to work, it’s a problem.

I’d been mid-roll when I suddenly had that intuition that hits you when you just know something’s wrong. My eyes shot open, quickly followed by my mouth as I shouted an expletive, I prayed Jamie didn’t hear.

He had. That blessed boy had gotten himself up and was eating a bowl of cereal when I ran out. His blond hair was sticking up in every possible direction, but at least he was up and wearing pants.

Plucking the spray bottle off the bathroom counter, I doused his hair in mist, causing him to squirm and spill milk down his chin, before pushing a hat on his head. It’d have to do.

Five minutes later, I jogged back out, tucking my blouse into my slacks as I went. My hair-tie was clasped in my hand and my shoes tucked in my armpit. “Are you ready, bud?”

“What do you think?”

I glanced up from my pants to see Jamie standing at the door, shoes on and backpack slung over his shoulder. He was sticking his tongue out with crossed eyes.

“Okay, I deserved that one.” I chuckled, grabbing my frizzy, third-day curls and throwing them into a bun on the top of my head. I didn’t have a lick of makeup on, and my head was already letting me know it didn’t appreciate the lack of morning coffee. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

“Rugsy looks like she needs to pee. Also, you don’t have your purse.”

I wasn’t going to curse. I wasn’t going to curse. “Go ahead and buckle into your seat, I’ll be out in a second,” I said, handing him the keys and running to snatch my purse from my room.

Layla cracked her door as I passed, her half-lidded, mascara-smeared eyes watching me. “I’ll deal with Rug, you go ahead and go.” Her voice was rough with sleep, and I instantly felt guilty for waking her up.

“Are you sure?”

“I was planning on taking Sadie to a dog park I found. I’ll bring Rug along with us. It’s fine.”

“She’d like that.” I moved again, then paused, looking back at her. “Are you still good with hanging out with Jamie tonight, or should I drop him at my parents?”

“Nope, we’re good. Now go before you get fired and have to take up hooking to pay the bills.”

I ran toward the door, flipping her off behind my head as I went.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you with your hair pulled up. I almost forgot how cute your ears are.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity of every religion to give me the patience to deal with this fool today. I hated it when anyone talked about my ears, but especially when he did.

My ears weren’t big by any means, but they stuck out from my head rather than lay flat. I didn’t use to care until my ex made a habit of referring to them as handlebars. I had a feeling Rob would be the kind of man to do the same.

I was currently standing at the copy machine on his side of the building because we didn’t have a machine capable of copying multiple sheets at the same time on our side yet. I’d been begging Evaline to get one so I wouldn’t have to come over here, but she didn’t want to until all the construction was done.

Keeping my back to Rob, I continued working, hoping if I ignored him he’d get the hint and walk away. The only consolation I had was that we were standing in the middle of the hallway so at least he wouldn’t try to touch me. Should I have known better at this point? Probably.

His thick fingers slid against the shell of my right ear and instant panic set in, making me flinch away and twist toward him. His eyes flared; his hand still outstretched.

Fuck, I hated reacting like that in front of people, it made me feel weak and stupid. And if there was anything I did not want to appear like in front of someone like Rob, it was weak and stupid.

The feeling of not having control over your body or emotions was one of the most humiliating and debilitating experiences. And one of the hardest to overcome.

“Please don’t touch my ears, Mr. Spencer.” Stepping back up to the copier, I grabbed my pages and shuffled them into a neat stack. I hadn’t finished, but I’d just do the rest one at a time on our small printer.

“I was only playing around, darlin’. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He smiled at me like my reaction to his touch was adorable.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t touch me.”

His smile fell, and he pulled back a little, flattening his lips and giving me a stiff nod. “All right. Well, I have your guard uniform in my office. Jim forgot to ask your size, but I’m pretty sure I ordered the right one.”

Because that wasn’t creepy as hell or anything. “I need to finish what I’m working on, can you set them in my box, and I’ll grab them later?”

His jaw flexed, and the skin around his eyes creased. He wanted to argue, I could see it in every inch of his posture, but someone, somewhere, smiled down on me. “Sure. Swing by and talk to Jim on your way down, he’s wanting you to shadow Saturday.”

My grip tightened on the pages, digging the edges into my palms. “This Saturday?”

“Why, do you have plans?”

I turned, ignoring his question. “I’ll talk to Jim about it, thanks.” He muttered a reply, but I was already halfway down the hall.

After confirming with Jim that he did, indeed, want me to take a six-hour training shift on Saturday, I ventured back to the alarm side of the building ninja style and found the uniform tucked into my box. Taking it into the bathroom, I tried it on so I could let him know if it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t decide if it was convenient or disturbing that it fit perfectly.

My day had drastically improved after lunch. I’d finished everything on my calendar, completed and aced a quiz during my lunch break, and since Evaline was out of the office for the afternoon, not a single soul bothered me. Solitude was the key to my heart some days.

Right at three o’clock, I was pulling out of my work parking lot, singing out of tune with the radio, and trying to hype myself up about my waitressing shift that night.

My schedule was insane but consistent. Monday through Friday, I worked for Evaline from eight in the morning until three in the afternoon. Friday night through Sunday night, I worked at a restaurant in town known for its chicken wings and beer. My shifts there started around four in the evening and ended whenever we closed, usually around midnight or one in the morning.

The hour in-between shifts gave me just enough time to grab Jamie from school, drop him off at my parents’ house, and change clothes before heading right back out.

On Sunday mornings, I worked another six-hour shift at a shipping company for a man named Ken, inputting driver timesheets and processing the week’s payroll. All of it added up to over sixty hours. That wasn’t taking into account any guard shifts I might occasionally pick up as well.

I was still a few minutes away from the school when my phone rang with an incoming call. I glanced down at the screen to see the caller ID showing Jamie’s school. Shit.

I pulled into the lot, edging my Jeep into a tight parking space. The call had been the secretary, asking me to come into the office to get Jamie rather than the car rider line. Thinking he’d been hurt, my stomach had dropped, sending a nauseating sensation up my chest and into my throat.

She’d assured me he was fine, and that Mrs. Brueger just needed to speak with me. Considering Mrs. Brueger was the principal, I couldn’t say it made me feel a whole lot better. I yanked the tie out of my hair, re-working it into a tighter, more presentable bun, and peeked at myself in the mirror. Go figure it’d be the day I didn’t wear any makeup.

I glanced at the clock, frustrated. If I didn’t hurry, I would be late for work for the second time in the same day. Slipping my heels back on, I made my way into the school, the click of my shoes on the linoleum echoing out like the inevitable countdown of a bomb.

My meetings with the principal never ended how they started. We’d begin by swapping tight smiles and each sit, clenching a metaphorical item in our hands—me, a matchstick, and her, a lighter. Then she’d lean forward, slowly, politely, and set it aflame, smiling at me all the while. I’d begin to sweat, watching the minuscule flame eat closer and closer to my skin. And just when I’d think I’d lucked out and it began to die off, she’d throw fucking gasoline on it.

Mrs. Brueger may have allowed Jamie to attend the school, but only because she had no actual reason to deny him. My money was as good as anybody else’s, and she despised both it and me. She hadn’t always. She’d frowned on Jamie’s first day when I’d explained I was his mother, but that was it.

Then one day, I made the mistake of forgetting to deposit my month’s worth of tips into my bank account, and I’d had to pay Jamie’s tuition in mostly ones and fives. If I’d brought in a dead body, she wouldn’t have shown as much horror and disgust as she did when she saw that cash.

She’d assumed the worst and hated me ever since.

The secretary ushered me into Mrs. Brueger’s office, telling me she was going to retrieve Jamie from his classroom and have him wait for me.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hartland.” I looked at the dark-haired woman sitting at the desk, not missing the way she stressed the Ms.

I took a seat across from her, giving her the usual practiced smile and sat back, crossing my legs. The office was small and always made me feel trapped. “Good afternoon.”

“I’ll make this quick. Something with Jamie has been brought to my attention, and I feel it is prudent we discuss it.”

“Okay.” I intertwined my hands in my lap, already wanting to throttle her by her tone alone.

“His teacher, Mrs. Rener, said Jamie hasn’t been completing assignments and has been lying about—”

“My son doesn’t lie.”

“—it, saying he turned them in.”

“If Jamie says he turned something in, he did. He sits at our table several nights a week and works on assignments.”

Ignoring me completely, she kept on going, rolling a pen back and forth between her thumb and pointer. “Mrs. Rener also said he regularly ignores her lectures and reads books under his desk.”

“Then he’s bored.”

She opened her mouth, but I continued. “Look, I’m not saying it’s okay for him to ignore the lesson, it’s not, and I’ll talk to him about it. But he has an A in every subject, so he understands what’s being taught, he’s just not handling it in a great way.”

She set her pen down, leaning forward onto her elbows and resting her chin against her steepled fingers. “Is there anything going on in his life that might account for his sudden disinterest in school? Any changes?”

I deserved an award for containing my eye roll. She was blatantly disregarding everything I was saying. “We moved out of our apartment and into a new home a few weeks ago.”

“Ah,” she said, as if that explained everything. “That’s probably it. Suddenly having a new bed and new people around is a lot for a child his age.”

My hands clenched each other so hard, a few knuckles popped. “We didn’t move in with anyone. It’s still only us, and he sleeps on the same bed he always has.”

“Are there male figures coming in and out of his life?”

“Excuse me?” My face grew hot, my ears raging infernos on either side of my head. Was she fucking serious?

“I’m just trying to replace out if there’s anything going on that might be causing him anxiety and to feel like he has to escape into a fictional world, Ms. Hartland.”

“I do not have men coming in and out of my home, Mrs. Brueger, and I do not appreciate the insinuation that I do.”

“My apologies. I suppose it was presumptuous of me to accuse you of allowing your dates to meet him.” She didn’t sound apologetic at all. She sounded like she was so full of shit that it was packed all the way up to her tonsils.

“I don’t date.”

“Is his father—”

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor like nails on a chalkboard. “If that’s all, Mrs. Brueger, I need to go. I’d rather not be any later to work than I need to be. I will email Mrs. Rener to apologize and to discuss providing Jamie with higher level work. I will also speak with him tonight about his behavior in class.”

Her mouth hung open, like she was genuinely shocked I’d cut her off and would leave. “Yes. Please do.”

I was fuming, practically foaming at the mouth when I re-entered the main office. Jamie jumped off his seat, eyes wide and white knuckling his bag. I didn’t acknowledge the secretary as I stormed out. I couldn’t. I was ten seconds away from exploding.

Jogging to keep up with my pace, Jamie didn’t say a word as he buckled into his seat, but I could feel his eyes on me. I ripped off my heels, throwing them on the passenger seat and watching them bounce off onto the floorboard. I curled my hands around the steering wheel in an iron grip, blinking rapidly and trying to clear my vision enough to get us home.

“Mom? Are you mad at me?”

Awesome. Superb parenting, Madison. Meet with your child’s principal and then leave pissed and not say a word to him. That won’t give him the wrong idea at all.

My head dropped forward to rest my forehead against the wheel. The burn in my eyes finally easing as the tears won the battle and slid down my cheeks.

“No, bud. I’m not mad at you.” I applauded myself on how smooth the words came out even while my soul was splintering on the inside.

“Am I in trouble?”

Leaning back, I futilely swiped at my eyes and forced myself to put the Jeep into reverse and leave Satan’s playground. “Your teacher is frustrated with your lack of interest in class. She said you’re ignoring lessons and reading books. I agree with her that the behavior is disrespectful. You know better. But no, you’re not in trouble as long as you promise to stop.”

“Then why are you sad?”

His question made me feel even worse, guilt surpassing anger. Parenting was fucking hard. Hell, adulting, in general, was hard. My mama had warned me, but she hadn’t warned me enough.

“I’m not sad, I’m angry.” And humiliated. Vulnerable. Exposed. “But it has nothing to do with you. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

I took a deep breath, mentally bitch slapping myself to get my shit together. All it was doing was clogging my nose and upsetting my child. And Lord knows I wouldn’t make any tips tonight if I showed up with a puffy face.

I called the restaurant as soon as we pulled up to the house, letting them know I’d had to go into the school and would be late. Then I climbed out, circling the vehicle to open my passenger door and replace the heels I’d thrown.

I’d just leaned down when my skin tingled, the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. I twisted my neck and glanced over my shoulder to see Garrett standing in the middle of his yard with a push mower.

His eyes, which had been on my ass, snapped up to my face. I frowned at him, straightening and tucking the heels under my arm before shutting the door.

His gaze zeroed in on my face and lingered. He worked his jaw back and forth, narrowing his eyes slightly before they finally dropped to the child stepping up next to me. Jamie stared back at him, a defiant look on his face, and I watched Garrett’s eyebrow arch before he turned away, effectively dismissing us. Fine by me.

I ushered Jamie into the house, hearing the rumbling of the mower start up as I closed the door.

“What the hell happened?” Layla barreled toward me like a bull that’d spotted a red flag.

I cleared my throat pointedly, flicking my eyes to Jamie and back. “Nothing. We’ll talk later, but I need to go.” Dropping my purse on the bar, I ran toward my room, throwing off my clothes and yanking on my uniform. Five minutes later, I had on the barest of makeup and was running back out, shoes and apron in hand.

“Thanks again for hanging out with him. Try not to destroy the house, you two.”

Layla hadn’t moved a muscle. She was looking all over my face with squinted eyes while I shoved my feet into my shoes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “I make no promises.”

I gave Jamie a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek which he instantly rubbed off. “Behave, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Locking my spine, I walked out, prepared for another stare-off with Garrett, but both he and the mower were nowhere in sight.