Class Mom

“See you guys tomorrow,” she says.

“Don’t forget to ask your mom!” Zach yells to Max as he walks away, holding his mother’s hand.

“Ask me what?” I look down at him.

“You know it’s five days till my birthday, right?”

“Five days till your birthday party,” I correct him as we walk to the car, “a week till your birthday.”

“Did you get the cake yet?” he asks, handing me his backpack.

“Well, I ordered it. We won’t pick it up until Saturday.”

As I buckle him into his booster seat, he lets out a very big sigh for a little boy. I buckle myself in and turn on the car. I check my phone before I pull out and see I have a text from Don.

You’re having a party without me?

I guess word is out about Max’s shindig.

We are. Six-year-old boys only. Girls are gross.

What about 48-year-old boys?

They’re gross, too.

LOL

I shake my head and put my phone in my purse.

“How was school today?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Good.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Who did you play with?”

“I don’t know.” He suddenly looks at me as though he has just realized I’m there. “Hey, Mom, can we invite Jack to my party?”

“Jack?” I frown. “Who is Jack?”

“You know, Garth’s friend from when we went to Wichita that day.”

“Why would you want to invite Jack, sweetie? We barely know him.”

“Mom, please can you ask him? Please?”

“Well, I’ll need to know why first.”

Max frowns. “Graydon doesn’t believe we know a guy with one arm. He called me and Zach B. liars.”

“He did?” I start planning my phone call to concerned parent Shirleen Cobb.

Max nods. I look in the rearview mirror and see him squeeze his eyes shut tight. I can tell he’s upset.

“Did that make you sad?”

He nods and looks out the window.

“Did you cry, buddy?”

He lets out a long dramatic sigh. “I did for a minute. And then I manned up.”

I suppress a smile, knowing that last part is courtesy of his dad.

“So can we ask him, Mom? I want to show Graydon I’m not lying.”

This is what I find hard about parenting. The petty, small, vindictive part of me wants to say, “Hell, yes, we’ll get him there and teach Graydon Cobb a lesson or two about calling people liars.” But the rational adult side of me knows my son needs to learn to rise above this crap. Plus it sounds like he was doing some pretty serious bragging about meeting a man with a handicap. I’m not too happy about that.

*

I tell Garth the whole story over jumping jacks on Thursday morning.

“Honest to God, just when I think I’ve heard it all from that kid,” I puff.

Garth chuckles. “You know, Jack is such a nice guy, I’m sure if I asked him he would stop by. Shut this kid Graydon up.”

I stop jumping and try to catch my breath.

“Please don’t. But I’d love it if you would stop by.”

“Really?” He seems surprised.

“Of course. You’re practically family now. Plus, I’m dying to see you eat a piece of cake.”

Garth laughs.

“I will if it’s chocolate. I can’t stay away from that.”

“I noticed.” I smirk. “Come with Nina. It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, thanks for the invite. I’ll talk to her. Now let’s work your legs a little more.”

We get back to business and soon I’m a sweaty mess. Garth tells me that he’s going to move our workouts outside as soon as the snow melts. I’m a little nervous to leave the comforts of Ron’s Gym and Tan, but I think it will be nice to change the scenery up a bit.





17

Saturday morning, I jump out of bed like the woman on a mission that I am—for today, anyway. Max’s birthday party starts at eleven, and I have a ton to do. I glance at the rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed and see that Ron is already up and at ’em as well. I’m impressed. I grab the To Do list I scribbled in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. Most of it is illegible but I can get the gist of it.

—Remind my parents where the party is, again

—Put gift bags in the car

—Pick up cake

—Pick up balloons

—Decorate party room

Normally I would farm some of this out to Vivs and Laura, but they are barely going to make it to the party. They are driving up from school with Raj and Travis and not leaving until ten this morning, because apparently Travis “needs his sleep.” Yes, Travis is still in the picture. I’m thinking this might be love for my little girl. Never mind that the great Steve Perry of Journey says, “Lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,” Laura is smitten and she’s going to roll the dice with Travis. God, I envy her. She has no idea what it’s like to get your heart broken.

I quickly shower, don the mom uniform, and trot down to the kitchen for a much-needed cup of joe. No sign of Ron, but I find a note taped to the Keurig telling me he has gone running. I pop a pod into the machine and grab the milk. It’s ridiculous how much I need this first cup.

As I’m savoring my maiden sip of the day, Max comes into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He walks over for a hug.

“Good morning, sweetie pie.” I give him a big squeeze. “Happy birthday-party day.”

His eyes spring open so quickly it’s comical. “It’s my party today?” He starts to jump up and down, doing his happy dance, which looks a little like the way Martin Short dances as Ed Grimley. “Can we go now?”

I can’t help but laugh as it is only 8:30 in the morning.

“Well, we’ve got a few things to do before we go. First, breakfast. You want to have a lot of energy for the gym. How about an egg in the hole?”

“Okay.” He sounds a bit disappointed. I know he’s dying to get the party started. Just then Ron comes in the back door, looking like the Unabomber with sunglasses and his hood up.

“Man, is it chilly out there!” He stomps around for a bit, then shrugs his running jacket off.

“Dad, are you ready for the party?” Max asks.

“Absolutely, buddy. Just give me ten seconds.”

“Coffee?” I hold up my mug.

“Please.” He kisses me, then takes a huge chug from his water bottle.

I throw a pod in for him, then start on Max’s breakfast.

“I have a few errands to run before the party. Can you get Max ready and bring him to Emerald City around ten forty-five?”

“No problem. Want me to bring anything?”

“I think I’ve got it all. Just make sure the guest of honor is there.”

“Who’s the guest of honor?” Max asks. He has an orange juice mustache.

“You, silly.” I place the egg in a hole in front of him and he digs in with gusto.

The kitchen-counter office beckons me, so I have a seat and fire up the iMac to check my emails and send one to Asami.



* * *



To: JDixon

From: KHoward

Date: 03/10

Subject: Max’s party

Hello, darling,

Can you remind me where Max’s party is again? I keep forgetting the name of it. Also send me the address so I can put it in the Garmin.

Love,

Your Mother



To: JDixon

From: SCobb

Date 3/10

Subject: Today

Laurie Gelman's books