Racing through the parking lot, I dodge as many puddles as I can. I swear it started raining a month ago and hasn't let up. Even worse, it's muggy. Really muggy. But that's what early June in Houston is like every year. At least the rain is keeping the bugs away for now."Shit," I yell as I accidentally land right in a puddle. I look up and see Mari's elderly neighbors staring at me and my filthy mouth. "Sorry. I landed in a puddle."The old man doesn't seem amused but the woman, I can tell she's trying not to grin.Reaching Mari's door, I bang as quickly as I can. It's only eight in the morning, but we've spent a lot of time together over the last couple of months. I know their routine pretty well again, and I'm sure the kids are up by now. When the door opens revealing Mari still in her jammies, coffee cup in hand, my suspicions are confirmed."Sorry!" I whiz past her and into the living room where the kids are already playing. "I left my schedule here and couldn't find the website t
"What is it with you feeding my kids sugar?" I ask Marcus, as I flop down on the couch. "Don't you have any vegetables in your fridge?""I don't know what you're complaining about," he reasons as he drops himself down next to me. He won't admit it, but he's just as tired as I am after chasing the kids for the last forty-five minutes. "Once they were done running, they practically dropped into their beds. We won't hear from them for a while.""Yeah, but it's going to take us that long to clean up this mess." I look around trying to wrap my brain around the sheer volume of toys strewn all over the floor. I had no idea my kids had this many toys. Looks like it's time to clean out again."We'll just tell them the same thing I told my niece and nephew last weekend.""We're not telling the kids that any toys left out will come alive when they're sleeping and will watch them in bed.""Okay, I admit that one backfired on me." I chuckle and drop my head back on the couch. I'm so tired. "We'll t
I look around the waiting room, shoving my wallet back in my pocket after paying the obligatory twenty-dollar co-pay. It's not a lot, but it adds up when you have a weekly therapy appointment.With my knee shaking up and down, I recognize I'm nervous. Really nervous.Mariana has never asked for us to go see Justin together, but she did this time and wouldn't tell me why. Just said there are things we need to discuss. It worries me that she wants to cut the amount of time I've been spending with the kids. I know I've been at her apartment a lot lately, but it didn't seem like she minded. I can't believe I read the situation wrong and I don't understand why she can't just tell me this outside of therapy.The door flies open and Justin stands there with his normal relaxed look on his face. "Hey guys. Come on in."Mari smiles and greets him like everything is normal. I just mumble a hello as I walk past him."How's school going, Santos?" he asks before we even sit down on the couch. So muc
"I'm thinking that even if I hadn't, you know, done the things that I did…" No one needs more of an explanation. My sins have been aired more than enough that there's no reason to rehash them. "… our marriage was already doomed. I didn't take care of you emotionally at all.""Well, I think doomed is probably a little extreme," Justin counters. "A woman losing her feelings of self-worth when she becomes a mother isn't an uncommon problem. So you may have been headed for some rough patches, but I don't think it would have been the end of your relationship."I'm not really sure I believe him. "I'm sorry, Mari," I say to her. "I had no idea you felt so badly about yourself.""Honestly, Santos," she responds, "I don't think I had any idea about it either, so how could you? It sucks that we ended up divorced, but it also sort of forced me to face my own demons that I didn't really want to know were there. Is it weird that I can kind of see a silver lining to this whole thing?""It actually
"The house was built in 2001, which is really young for the neighborhood. Now, I know the lots are a little smaller, but that really cuts down on the cost and it means less yard maintenance for you." I look through the pantry and kitchen cabinets as my realtor, Alice, continues to drone on about the benefits of the home. I'm already sold on it, though. But she doesn't need to know that yet.The house is perfect. Four decent-sized bedrooms and two full bathrooms are upstairs, which means I can be close to the kids at night. It also has a game room that will come in handy as the kids get older and more independent. Downstairs boasts a small open-concept kitchen and den area with a small dining room just off the kitchen. Perfect for keeping an eye on the kids while I cook. There's also a half bathroom and a laundry room. And a small room that's supposed to be a formal living room, but I'd rather turn it into an office area.Despite how open and spacious it is inside, from the outside, it
"That's a nice idea, but I know how much we both have in savings, or at least how much we each started out with. It would deplete everything. With you not working for the next year…" I shake my head. There's no way it'll work."You don't remember how much we're making off the current house, do you?"I think back to the conversation we had about numbers right after we got divorced. Things were so emotionally heightened back then, I don't remember a lot of it. But I do remember that."You were serious? We have that much equity?""I'm the math major remember?" he teases. "We had saved for so long we made a huge down payment during a buyer's market. The market has swung and now it's a seller's market, so already the value has gone up. Not to mention, up until we separated, we were making double payments every month. We shaved off something like fifteen years' worth of interest that way.""But Santos, that's your money. I don't want to take your money. Especially with you being in school."
"As you can see, there are five groups. Each group has four stars in it. Let's count the stars. Ready?" I use my dry erase marker to count how many stars are on the board. "There's twenty. So five times four equals twenty."I look up at Kimberly who has a grimace on her face."I'm doing a terrible job at this, aren't I?"She turns off the camera we're using to tape our lessons while trying really hard to give me an encouraging look, but finally gives up. "Well, it's not good."I toss the dry erase marker down on the table of the small library work room and drop myself into the chair. "Why do I have to present a third-grade lesson?" "Do you want the real answer or a sarcastic answer?""Let's start with sarcastic.""Because Professor Johnston randomly chose third grade for your project."I make a "hrmph" and cross my arms. "And the real answer?""Because in order to be certified to teach middle school, you have to know both the kindergarten through seventh grade and eighth through high
I race to the door when I hear the knock. Santos and I have spent a lot of time together lately, but this is the first time we're going to leave the kids behind when we do it. I'm both excited and really, really nervous. This is the beginning of the rest of our lives, and I'm feeling good about it.I open the door and he turns around slowly. Wearing khaki shorts and a red shirt with leather flip flops, he looks just like I remember… breathtaking. My heart beats a little faster and the nerves fade away, leaving me feeling giddy about this new chapter."Mari," he breathes. "You look amazing."I look down at my knee length dress. It's black with red dots and hugs me in the right places. It's a jersey dress, but the strappy black heeled sandals dress it up just enough. I feel pretty."Thank you. I'm getting better at doing my hair and make-up.""It's different?" He looks at me quizzically.My heart sinks. "Oh. Yeah. I'm trying to learn how to do my make-up. I thought that's what you were t