Our Fragile Hearts. Buffy Andrews
me. Only it didn’t last. Good things rarely do.
Piper tugged on my shirt. I looked down. “What?”
“I have to pee.”
I sighed. “Really? You can’t hold it?”
She shook her head and her blonde curls bounced.
“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and turned to walk back to the apartment. Just then I heard the bus screech as it rounded the corner. I was not happy. I had to get to work and now I’d have to take Piper to school.
“I told you to go to the potty before we left.”
“I didn’t have to go then.”
I opened our apartment door and marched her inside. “Go.”
“And then I can stay home with you, right?”
I counted to ten, trying to keep myself from blowing up. “No, you can’t. You have to go to school. It’s the law. If you don’t go to school, I’ll get in trouble. Now go pee so we can go.”
“I don’t have to pee anymore.”
“Damn it, Piper!”
She folded her arms. “You said a bad word.”
“And I’m going to say more bad words if you ever pull another stunt like this again.”
I grabbed my keys and purse and marched her out to the car. Piper squirmed in her seat as I yanked the seatbelt and buckled her in, tugging on the strap to make sure it was secure.
I was so mad that I didn’t talk for the first mile. But then I started to feel bad because I really wanted Piper to have a good first day and it’d started out all wrong. I looked over at her. “Sorry, Piper. Look. Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t tell me you have to pee when you really don’t. I know you’re worried about school but I think you’ll like it. You’re smart and friendly and you color better than any five-year-old I know. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”
Piper sniffed. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
I reached over and patted her shoulder. “I know you didn’t, but when you do stuff like that it makes my life more difficult. And it’s difficult enough.”
“Sorry, Rachel.”
“So you’re not going to lie ever again, right?”
Piper nodded.
“Remember the story I told you about the little boy who cried wolf? When a real wolf came, no one believed him because he’d lied so many times before. Don’t be like that little boy. Don’t tell me you have to pee when you don’t.”
Piper squirmed in her seat. “I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I pulled into the school parking lot, busy with buses pulling in and out. I found a spot near the playground. “Look at the swings and the slide and monkey bars. They look like fun.”
Piper peeked out of the window in the direction I’d pointed. Her tiny bow lips curved slightly upward. “Maybe I can swing today.”
I patted her knee. “Maybe. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun surprises today. Ready?”
She nodded and I got out of the car and walked around to her side and opened the door. She crawled out and I helped her put on her Pink Princess backpack, positioning the glittery straps over her narrow shoulders. We’d started walking toward the main entrance when I felt her delicate hand brush against mine. I wrapped my fingers around hers and we walked hand in hand into the building.
The office was bustling with parents coming and going. We stood in line behind a tall man in a suit and a girl who looked to be about Piper’s age. The girl stared at Piper, her black eyes swallowing her pretty face. She flashed a bright white smile at Piper and Piper turned toward me, mushing her tiny body against my leg. I smiled. “Hi. What’s your name?”
She mashed her lips together as if she was trying to keep from talking.
The man she was with turned around and smiled. “Go ahead, tell the nice lady what your name is.”
She looked up at the man, the tiny black braids hugging her head flopping about.
He arched his eyebrows and nodded. “Don’t be rude. Answer the mother’s question.”
I gasped. It wasn’t the first time I’d been mistaken for Piper’s mother, but it still made me catch my breath, especially since the last time had ended in Piper having a meltdown.
“I’m not her mother,” I explained. “I’m her sister.”
The man extended his hand. “My apologies. This is Jacy.” He patted the girl on her shoulder. And I’m Marcus.”
I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rachel and this is Piper.”
“I like your hair,” Piper told Jacy.
Jacy smiled. “I like yours, too.”
By luck, it turned out the girls had the same teacher and an aide came to take them to their room. I squatted so I was eye to eye with Piper. “Now remember to keep your special ID necklace on. That way the helpers can make sure you get on the right bus.”
“And you’ll be at the bus stop, right?”
“Right. Just like I promised.”
Marcus smiled and we watched the girls walk with the aide. Jacy reached over and took Piper’s hand.
“It looks like the girls made at least one new friend today,” I said.
Marcus smiled. “That’s good. Jacy was worried she wouldn’t make any friends.”
“Piper, too. I’m glad we ended up in line behind you.”
Marcus and I walked out of the school building together, exchanging some more small talk about the weather. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my purse and read the text. It was from Claire.
Free tonight? How about happy hour at White Rose?
I texted back.
Can’t. Piper’s first day of school.
She responded.
K. Another time maybe? Miss you!
Yeah, sure, I thought. Another time. But we both knew there probably wouldn’t be another time. I had Piper now. Everything was different. I exhaled a heavy sigh. I missed my old life, the one where I was attending college and bartending at Jack’s. I was only a few classes shy of earning my social work degree when I learned Mom had died. So I dropped out of college, hoping to return one day, and scrambled to find a day job so I could take care of Piper.
Mom’s best friend, Judy, who had tracked me down when Mom died, hooked me up with a cleaning agency. She knew the owner, who was looking for help. I wasn’t crazy about cleaning, but the money was good and I could work around Piper’s schedule. I needed that kind of flexibility.
I looked into my rearview mirror and put the car in reverse, slowly pulling out. Damn, Mom, I thought. Why’d you have to die?
I hadn’t realized how expensive it was to raise a child. Mom left us a few dollars in her bank account, barely enough to cover the cost of her funeral. And who knew when we’d have enough to buy her a tombstone. Probably never. I hate saying this, but it wasn’t at the top of my shopping list. There were too many other things we needed. Or rather Piper needed. Shoes. Clothing. And food.
The traffic was backed up from an accident and it was taking me longer to get to my cleaning job than I’d planned. I was at a standstill between exits on the interstate so I called Claire. When she answered, I could tell by the sound of her voice she was still in bed. “I