9
1247 Words
Maranda
After a long talk with Wes, I agreed not to ground him this time. But he needed to come to me with issues like this. I can't help him figure them out if he doesn't come to me. Also, walking to Texas was not something that he should ever do. If he wanted to go and visit his father's grave, we could work something out. Also, if he wanted to call one of his friends, I could help him do that. But we needed to work on finding a friend here. After talking with Wes, I reached out to his teacher. She and I had a long talk as well. She hadn't noticed anything like Wes had described, but she would keep a little bit more attention on the boys. She also thought that maybe shuffling her classes seating assignments around might help. Currently, Wes's desk was next to Blain's. Maybe sitting Wes next to someone else and having them pair off when they did group projects might help. It was definitely worth trying, and I was glad she was willing to help. I know a few fellow teachers that would not be so willing to take such steps and blow off the fact that it sounded like Blain was being a bully. But she knew as well as I did that behind such bullies was a kid crying out for help so she wouldn't ignore Blain while she was helping Wes. She would be reaching out to Blain's parents and keeping a closer eye on him.
With that done, I straightened up the house a bit before focusing on making the rest of the weekend as fun as possible for both kids. It wasn't easy since they were so different in age along with into different things. But I think I pulled it off with a trip to the park, a night out at a restaurant instead of mom cooking dinner, a stop to get some ice cream for dessert, and then a movie in my room when we got home. Which, watching the movie in my room was a good call. Neither kid made it through the movie and was fast asleep well before the end. I know letting them sleep in with me was something some people looked down on. But for a night, I was fine with it. Besides, I would have never been able to carry Wes up the stairs to his room. At ten years old, he was way too big for me to pick up. And Haylee was well on her way at six. She would have been a struggle to get up the stairs also. This way, they were already upstairs, and I wouldn't worry about them while I slept.
Over the next couple of weeks, it was as if Tiny was avoiding me. Or maybe it was in my head. I knew he was around, but it was like he was purposely leaving at different times than usual. Also, he would either get back home before I did and not leave again until sometime after I did the next day. Or he would get home sometime after I had put the kids to bed and had gone to bed myself. By the second week, I decided, on Thursday, to test my theory when he wasn't home before the kids, and I made it home after school. After putting the kids to bed and changing out of my clothes for the day, I shut everything down as if I was going to bed as well. Then I went downstairs and waited while sitting on the couch and playing on my phone in the dark. My wait wasn't long, only thirty minutes later, and I heard his motorcycle outside. Getting up, I peeked out the window to see that I was right and watched as he pulled his motorcycle into the garage, parking it behind his truck. I waited a few more minutes before walking down to the basement. I stood on my side of the door, listening.
As I stood there, I realized I was being a damn stalker. Why did I care if he was avoiding me? It wasn't like we were a couple or even knew that much about each other. I mean, hell, he was a member of the same club as my brother-in-law. Chances of him being the same as Bear were probably pretty big. Then again, I had also met a few other members from the same club and could tell you they were nothing like Bear, so maybe Tiny was the same as those guys. Maybe I wanted Tiny to be the same as those guys so I could have a guy that looked at me the way Knuckles and Gunner looked at Jay and Blair. Maybe I was being ridiculous, and I should just go to bed and stop being a psycho.
Movement on the other side of the door pulled my attention. He was in the laundry room. Carefully I opened the door that separated my side of the duplex from the shared laundry room. Like the last time I saw him in this room, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and only sweatpants. I watched as he filled the washer up and turned it on. Turning around, he caught me standing there. At this point, I should have just turned around, left, and stopped being weird. But the look of being caught had me walking into the room with him. Walking around the table, I stopped a couple of feet away from him. "Are you avoiding me?" Don't ask me why, because I don't know. I am sure he thought I was a complete and certifiable psychopath at this point. "Yes…no…yes…no…maybe." Ok, that wasn't what I was expecting him to say. I was completely caught off guard. I didn't know where to go from here. I mean, if he had told me to stay away from him and called me crazy, I would have totally understood. But what do I do with that kind of answer to my craziness? I don't even know.
The only thing I could think of doing, I am sure, only made me seem even more like a crazy person. I nodded my head once, turned around, and walked out of the room. Leaving him there alone. I even closed the door behind me and walked up the stairs to my front room. Looking up the stairs, I thought about going up the last flight and just going to bed. I had done made myself look completely insane. I am sure of it. He will forever do his best to stay the hell away from me forever now. Hell, I am sure he will be trying to talk Crow into kicking me out. I don't know if he could do that, but I am sure he would try. I began pacing my front room. How could I have made myself look so crazy? I should have just gone to bed. Why did I have to go downstairs and walk into the laundry room and ask him if he had been avoiding me? What was with his answer? Why had he looked like he had been caught red-handed? He admitted to avoiding me. Why had he been avoiding me? Turning, I headed back down the stairs making my way through the laundry room and through the door that separated his unit from the shared space.
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