Marriage Matters

Eleven

“I hate you!” Mary Beth Gable screamed.

Chloe closed her eyes and counted to ten. Even though she loved her job at Tiny Tumblers, the kid’s gym, there were days when she just wanted to rip out her hair. Today was one of those days.

“Mary Beth,” she sighed, getting down on one knee. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt Asher. But when you hurt someone, you don’t laugh. You apologize. So, please say you’re sorry.”

Asher, pale and nervous by nature, let out a sniffle. Chloe put her hand on his back. The poor thing would be traumatized for life, all thanks to Mary Beth. The four-year-old hellion had decided it would be a great idea to leap off the monkey bars and use Asher as a landing pad.

Chloe was across the room when it happened, sanitizing the mats. The moment was awful, like watching a cheetah taking down a gazelle. Poor Asher had screamed in fear and promptly wet his pants. After tracking down dry clothes for Asher and giving him an ice-cream bar, Chloe was doing her best to get Mary Beth to apologize, but the little girl refused.

“Mary Beth.” Chloe kept her voice low and calm. “Please say you’re sorry.”

Mary Beth put her hands on her hips, debating. She was dressed in purple leggings and a pink and purple T-shirt that read, My dad can beat up your dad. Chloe doubted that the little girl would indeed be so confident if she actually did meet Chloe’s father.

“No.” Mary Beth stomped her feet. With each stomp, her tennis shoes lit up. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Then the little girl made a move to kick Chloe in the shins.

“Hey!” Chloe jumped back just in time.

Shaking her head, she wondered at the textbook aggression. Mary Beth was obviously from a broken home. Chloe would love to get a look at her father, just to see who was raising such a monster. Of course, he was never there. Mary Beth was dropped off at Tiny Tumblers by nannies and rarely the same one.

Since this particular approach to getting an apology wasn’t working, Chloe decided to switch tactics. “Asher.” She turned to the little boy. “Do you want an apology for what happened?”

Asher squinted through his tears. Mary Beth narrowed her eyes.

He shook his head. “No.”

Chloe looked at him in surprise. “Asher, you can’t let women walk all over you.” The sentiment reminded her of a similar speech she’d made, back when Ben was in the fifth grade. “You need to stand up for yourself. Say, Mary Beth, I want you to apolo—”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Chloe leapt to her feet. To her absolute horror, Dr. Gable was standing on the red, blue and yellow mats, his hands on his hips. He wore yet another tweed jacket, as well as a light blue shirt. This time, his stupid ascot was pink and patterned with light blue diamonds.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe demanded.

Hopefully, he was not here to tell her off. First of all, that would be a little creepy, considering Tiny Tumblers was her place of employment. Second of all . . . that would actually be really creepy, since he was at her place of employment. How on earth did he know where she worked anyway?

Chloe felt a jolt of fear. Mary Beth and Asher were always the last kids to get picked up. Sneaking a peek at the glass door that led out to the busy street, she hoped their parents or a nanny would show up soon.

“Look.” Chloe kept her voice steady, so as not to frighten the children. “I’m sorry I called you a name and slammed your office door. But you can’t be here. This isn’t the time or the place—”

Dr. Gable looked at Chloe as though she were nuts. “I’m here to pick up my daughter.” He placed a hand on Mary Beth’s shoulder. “And I’m not pleased that she seems to be so upset.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped. “You’re Mary Beth’s father?” Looking back and forth between the two, she suddenly saw the resemblance. The two shared the same high forehead, curly hair and olive complexion. Not to mention the same air of entitlement and stinky disposition.

“In that case, I’m glad you’re here.” Chloe’s tone was indignant. “Your daughter was bullying this child. She’s upset because I was asking her to apolo—”

At this, Mary Beth let out an ear-piercing scream.

“It’s okay, honey.” Dr. Gable patted her shoulder. “Settle down. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Even Asher seemed offended by this.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “But you are a psychologist.”

“So?”

“So, you . . .” She squeezed her hands together, trying to remain calm. “More than anyone else in this city, should know that it is completely inappropriate for a four-year-old to bully another child and receive a reward for her behavior.”

Dr. Gable opened his mouth as though to argue.

Chloe pointed at Asher. “Your daughter attacked this child.”

Asher gave a dramatic sniffle.

“This is the third time this month I’ve seen that type of behavior from her. It’s completely unacceptable and . . . and highly dysfunctional. If it happens again, I will have to ask you to withdraw her from Tiny Tumblers.”

Mary Beth’s eyes went wide. She shoved her thumb in her mouth.

Dr. Gable was outraged. “All over some ice cream? If I want to get my daughter some ice cream, that’s up to me.”

Chloe considered the wrinkles around his eyes. Dr. Gable had to be about ten years older than her but he had no right to act so superior. He obviously had no idea how to raise a child.

“It’s not about the ice cream.” Stepping forward, she lowered her voice so that only he could hear. “But if you want to raise a little serial killer, that’s up to you.”

Dr. Gable turned a bright purple, which clashed horribly with his pink ascot.

Chloe got back down on one knee and regarded Mary Beth. “I really want you to come back and play with us. So, from now on, I am going to trust that you’re going to be a big girl and stop hurting other people, okay?”

Mary Beth considered this. Finally, she nodded.

“Mary Beth.” Dr. Gable’s tone was sharp. “Go get your bag.”

Chloe kept her voice deliberately gentle. “Take Asher with you,” she said. “Hold his hand.”

Chloe watched the two figures stomp across the room toward the colored cubbyholes. Getting to her feet, she regarded Dr. Gable with disdain. The air felt thick between them.

“A little serial killer?” he said, indignant. “I can’t believe you said that. And you plan to have a career working with children?”

“An ice cream?” she shot back. “I can’t believe you said that. And you actually have a career where you give other people advice?”

Dr. Gable studied her for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head. “Look, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He let out a hearty sigh and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “About this and . . . that day in my office.”

Chloe blinked. “Oh.” There was a lengthy pause. “Really?”

Dr. Gable adjusted his ascot. “Yes. We got off on the wrong foot. Initially, I had invited you to my office to discuss a long-term plan for your grant application. But I didn’t expect you to be a day early. And I really didn’t expect you to catch me singing. I was . . . embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

Chloe was stunned. “Is this some sort of reverse psychology?”

“No. It’s an apology.” Dr. Gable seemed to shift in his shoes. “That day, you surprised me. Not just by being early but with your confidence. I didn’t expect that from a student.”

“Grad student,” Chloe clarified.

He smiled. “There you go again. Grad student.”

Chloe smiled back.

“Look, I’d like to make it up to you. Would you let me take you to dinner?” The furrow between his eyebrows deepened. “Let me clarify that I will not write you a letter of recommendation for that grant. In my professional opinion, you lack the time or experience to do it justice. Perhaps it’s something to revisit in a couple of years, but not now. Either way, the invitation to dinner still stands.”

Wait. He was asking her out on a date? Yes, he’d been a total jerk in his office but . . . She blushed, remembering the close fit of those green sweatpants.

“What about Saturday night at eight?” Dr. Gable asked. “Does that work for you?”

Was this actually happening? She thought back to watching him up on the stage, speaking to her school. Was that same man really asking her out?

“Uh . . . ” Chloe swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you up . . .”

“Here,” Chloe blurted out. She certainly didn’t want this man to witness her crappy Wicker Park apartment. Or go through the third degree with Ben.

“Daddy!” Mary Beth sprinted across the room, Asher closely behind. Obviously, all was forgiven. “Come on. Let’s go to the park.”

Dr. Gable got down on one knee. “Daddy has to go back to work.” He kissed her on the head. “But maybe we can get away with it for a few minutes before I drop you off at Miss Marshall’s.”

Chloe hoped that Miss Marshall was ninety and had warts all over her face.

Getting to his feet, Dr. Gable studied Chloe for a long moment. Something passed between them. A spark, an understanding, a challenge . . . She didn’t know what it was. But she was suddenly very interested to find out.

Chloe felt her cheeks flush. “It was good to see you, Dr. Gable.”

“Geoff,” he said, smiling. Taking Mary Beth’s hand, he headed for the door. “See you Saturday.”

Once he left, Chloe realized that her legs were trembling. Literally shaking with nerves. She really needed to stop drinking so much caffeine.

“Miss Chloe?” Asher’s pale, serious face stared up at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, doll.” Chloe put a hand on his tiny shoulder. “Just fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” Asher let out a world-weary sigh. “But I guess it’s just one of those things I’ll understand when I’m older.”

Chloe laughed. “I don’t know about that, kiddo.” Through the front window, she watched Mary Beth and Geoff disappear in the stream of people walking over the bridge. “I hate to tell ya this, but even when you get older, there are still a lot of things in life that are not easy to understand.”