chapter 1
Layla
six months earlier
Layla Hilding-Cook stood on the curb next to the drop-off line on a mild day in early September, bracing herself for what she was about to endure. Drop-off and pickup frustrated the staff on the best of days, but that was nothing compared to the confusion on the first day of school. Every year, the district sent out detailed emails with instructions on how to navigate the process. Layla often wondered if the parents ever read them.
“It’s nice to see your face again,” Tonya said. “I’ve missed you.” Tonya Perkins taught art and Layla taught music and they had gradually evolved from coworkers who started teaching on the same day almost ten years ago to close friends who knew the innermost details of each other’s lives. During the summer months, when Layla’s split from Liam was still in that raw place that kept her inside with the curtains drawn, Tonya would send a text once or twice a week asking her to go to her front door and open it. Layla would comply and discover whatever Tonya had dropped off. Often, it was Layla’s favorite candy, which at the moment was Cinnamon Fire Jolly Ranchers. On especially hot days, there might be an iced hazelnut coffee. Sometimes, it was flowers from the farmers market or a bag of perfectly ripe peaches. Layla would smile, bring the items inside, and respond with a text of her own saying thank you.
Tonya was really into bullet journaling, and one day there had been a gift bag with a brand-new journal inside it sitting on the welcome mat. Layla had brought it inside, and it had sat on the kitchen counter, ignored, until mid-July, because it was going to take more than a bullet journal to put her life back together. She picked it up one day, more out of curiosity than anything. She’d thumbed through it and then put it back down. When she picked it back up again a few days later, she opened it to the first page and in the spot for the ten-year goal, she wrote, I want my life not to suck so much. The second time she opened it, she wrote, I don’t think this is going to help but whatever. The third time she picked it up, in the spot for daily goals she wrote, I’m going to write in this stupid journal every day, I guess, and then she poured out her thoughts for an hour straight. It was now part of her daily routine, and she had thanked Tonya profusely.
“The break was good for me,” Layla said as they watched the cars creep slowly through the drop-off line. “I did a lot of healing.” The divorce would be finalized soon and that would feel like another momentous milestone. When she left Liam last March, Layla still had three months of school to get through, and she limped her way through them with Tonya’s support, a spectacular poker face, and a truly astounding amount of compartmentalization. At school, she held it together. At home, she fell apart. And then finally June arrived, and Layla had never been so grateful for a job that allowed her three months off every year. Tonya knew all about the depth of Layla’s unhappiness and would have been more than willing to provide a literal shoulder to cry on as Layla navigated the separation process and eventual divorce. But Layla just needed to be alone with her thoughts.
“I’ll be fine,” Layla said. It was a sentence she’d repeated in her head almost every day during the summer. Most of the time, she actually believed it.
I will be fine.
Tonya smiled. “I know you will. And I, for one, am glad I don’t have to look at Liam’s stupid face at the Christmas party this year.”
“Comments like that are why I love you. Instead of telling me what an idiot I was, you simply pledge your support for Team Layla.”
“You weren’t an idiot.”
Maybe not now, but for many years she’d been living someone else’s life.
Annie Hakanson sidled up to them, travel coffee mug in hand. Layla had taught all three of Annie’s boys. Rambunctious hellions, especially the twins, but so charismatic and affectionate that most teachers, including her, let it slide. Layla had gotten to know Annie well enough over the years that she considered her a friend. She was also one of the few parents who knew about Layla’s marital strife.
“These parents will never, ever understand how this process works. Never,” Annie said.
“Is that why you park in the lot and walk the boys in?” Tonya asked.
“Partly. But also, I want an excuse to gossip with the two of you. I know it brightens your morning routine immensely.” Annie stepped forward and pointed at one of the cars, motioning for its driver to lower the window. “Move all the way forward. Then you can let your children out. Go on.”
Layla and Tonya stared at her. “What?” Annie said. “I’m helping you out.”
Layla laughed. “You sure are.”
“Oh, hey, hot-dad alert,” Annie muttered under her breath. Drop-off and pickup seemed to be primarily a mother’s task, so when a dad wandered into the mix, it was hard not to take notice. A handsome one was like chum in the water. It’s probably not him, Layla thought before looking nonchalantly in the direction Annie had indicated.
But of course it was him. And Layla already knew how handsome he was.
“I don’t see a ring,” Annie added in a low, singsongy voice.
“How can you possibly see that far?” Tonya asked, squinting.
“That’s because he’s separated,” Layla said.
“Wait,” Annie said. “How do you know he’s separated? Do you know him? Layla, is there something you want to share about what you did on your summer break? Or who you did?”
“You’re quite the comedienne,” Layla said, shaking her head. She was in a healing phase and was not remotely interested in pursuing a romantic relationship at this time. The mere thought of it exhausted her. “I met him and his soon-to-be-ex-wife at back-to-school night.”
He had walked into the music room holding his daughter’s hand. He had short dark hair and was dressed casually in jeans and a navy-blue polo. Mid-to-late thirties, give or take. A gorgeous woman had been holding the little girl’s other hand. Her long dirty-blond hair had a few lighter, face-framing highlights. She wore a sundress and had a deep, golden tan, the type of which Layla would never achieve because her fair skin only pinkened in the sun and would burn to a crisp if she spent more than thirty minutes outside without slathering herself in something with an SPF of at least fifty. This woman looked like she belonged in a beach town, Malibu or Monterey.
Not Rochester, Minnesota.
Healing phase notwithstanding, occasionally Layla allowed herself to fantasize about the type of man she might fall in love with someday, and this was definitely one of those times. The fantasy was slightly marred by the presence of the woman. It was like that Alanis Morissette song about meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife. In another lifetime, Layla used to sing a lot of Alanis Morissette songs.
“Hi, I’m Josh Summers,” he said when they reached Layla. He shook her hand. “And this is Sasha.”
Layla crouched down so she was at eye level with Sasha. “Hi, Sasha. I’m Miss Layla. I’m going to be your music teacher. Are you excited for the first day of school?”
“I have an Elsa lunch box and backpack.”
“You do? That’s cool. Maybe I’ll get the chance to see it. Do you like music?”
“She likes the Frozen soundtrack,” Josh said. So did Layla. She often sang along to it when she was alone in the car. How could she not? It was awesome. Frozen II would be released sometime next year, and when that happened, the elementary school would be hit with a fresh tidal wave of Frozen merchandise.
“She certainly does,” the woman said. “Hi, I’m Kimberly. Sasha’s mom.” She stepped forward and clasped Layla’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Josh said. “I should have introduced you.”
“No, it’s okay,” Kimberly said.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Layla said. “And I’ll see you at school in a few days, Sasha.”
Josh and Sasha drifted toward the door, but Kimberly hung back. “Well, that was awkward. We’re getting divorced. I mean, we’re just separated for now, but we don’t live together anymore. We’re trying our best to remain united where Sasha is concerned while we figure everything out.” She said it as if Layla wasn’t the only one she was trying to convince. “We’ve given the school contact information for both of us.”
“Of course,” Layla said. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Kimberly smiled and hurried off to catch up with Josh and Sasha.
Now they watched as Josh and Sasha reached the sidewalk on foot, the Elsa lunch box swinging from Sasha’s fingers. The parents of kindergartners often elected to skip the drop-off line and walk their children into the building on the first day. It was usually a good call.
“What do you think those pants are called?” Annie asked, her voice low. She motioned toward Josh with the slightest tilt of her head. He and Sasha were getting closer.
Layla was wondering the same thing. The pants were khaki-colored and had a lot of pockets. Cargo? Painter? He was also wearing a gray T-shirt and work boots, and until then Layla hadn’t realized how much she liked that look. Liam wouldn’t have been caught dead dressed like that.
“I have no idea,” Tonya said. “But I’m going straight to the mall to buy my husband a pair as soon as I’m done here today.”
“Uh-oh,” Layla said. “We might have a runner.”
Sasha had stopped dead in her tracks. Layla had had enough experience with the first day of school to know that the kids usually fell into one of two camps: super excited or a total flight risk. Josh reached down and picked up Sasha. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him.
Layla walked over to them. “Hi, Sasha. I’m Miss Layla, your music teacher. Do you remember meeting me?” Sasha lifted her head and peeked at Layla. Then she shook her head.
“Well, I remember you. I was thinking about you this morning because we’re going to sing a song from the Frozen soundtrack in music class this week. Do you know the words to ‘Let It Go’?” She had planned no such thing, but if she could assist in eliminating the first-day jitters of a reluctant kindergarten student, she would.
Sasha lifted her head from the crook of Josh’s neck and nodded.
“Could I take a look at your lunch box?”
She nodded and Layla took the lunch box out of her hand and examined it. “Who’s your favorite, Elsa or Anna?”
“I like Olaf,” she said.
Layla smiled. “Me too.” A bell rang in the distance. “We’ll be starting soon. Now, are you all ready for your first day of kindergarten? We can’t sing if we don’t go inside.”
“Okay,” she said.
Josh placed his daughter’s feet back down on the ground. “Come on, Sasha. Let’s go find the line for your homeroom.” Sasha placed her hand in Josh’s. “Have a nice day,” he said to them.
Layla smiled. “Thanks. You too.”
“Hmmm,” Annie said when they were a safe distance away. “I really hope that wasn’t a one-off. We need something to shake up the morning routine.”
“I think you mean someone,” Tonya added in the same singsongy voice Annie had used.
“Settle down, you two,” Layla said.
Copyright © 2021 by Tracey Garvis Graves
