Jackson
After I finished the unholy amount of paperwork, I shook my sore hand and walked back to the front counter to deposit my completed stack.
“So, you’re the friend, huh?” I said.
The woman took the papers and began sorting them into different baskets.
“Yep, that’s me.” She smiled. “I’m Mia. I sometimes fill in during the summer months when she needs an extra hand. I leave all the major stuff for the professionals, but I can sort papers and answer phones. It gives me an excuse to get out of the house.”
“Stay-at-home mom?” I guessed from her exhausted expression.
“Close.” She laughed. “I’m a teacher during the school year, but yeah, during the summer I become a stay-at-home mom. Who knew taking care of one infant would be ten times more exhausting than a classroom full of little kids?”
I chuckled, resting my arms against the counter. “Well, I’ve never taught, but I have had my fair share of experience with infants, and there were days when I swore I could sleep for a millennium.”
A small giggle escaped her lips, and then she lifted her hand to cover up a yawn. I moved around the room, looking at the art adorning the walls, and then I picked up a magazine.
“So, how long has she been doing this?”
“Who? Liv—I mean, Miss Prescott?” she corrected.
I nodded as I took my place back on the sofa.
“Well, she’s been on her own for about two years I believe.”
I started to flip through the fishing magazine, barely paying attention to it as I listened to Mia.
“Before that, she was a family counselor with a large organization downtown.”
“How come she decided to branch off?” I asked, digging for more dirt on the beautiful woman currently playing video games with my son.
“It was always a dream of hers, and she finally saved up enough money to do so.” She shrugged.
The door opened, and Noah and Miss Prescott reappeared.
“Hey, Dad!” he greeted.
“Hey,” I answered, amazed by his enthusiasm.
“Liv has a ton of games—even Grand Theft Auto. She totally beat me the first time around, but I won the second game.”
I was stunned stupid for a second or two before I came back online. “Awesome,” I replied, looking up at Miss Prescott for a reaction.
Her arms were folded across her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. She smiled sweetly down at Noah as if she’d just hung out with her own kid rather than a patient she’d been paid to see.
“Why don’t you hang out in there and play another round for a few more minutes? It will give me a little bit of time to meet your father.”
“Okay!” Noah disappeared back into the room behind her.
I watched her step forward, her long lean legs peeking out from a slit in her dress.
“Why don’t we go for a walk.” she suggested. “I have a little garden out back where we can sit.”
I suddenly had a picture of the two of us sitting in a garden, holding hands and chanting.
That’s not what we’re about to do, are we?
I looked at her with a bit of hesitation.
“Just talking.” She laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “It must be the long dresses or the tattoo, but I get a man in here with a Southern accent, and suddenly he’s looking at me like I’m going to sprout wings.”
Wait—did she say tattoo?
How did I miss that?
“We’ll be back in a few, Mia.” She said, briefly tapping the desk with her fingernails as she walked by.
As her flowery scent brushed past me, it was then that I saw it—an Indian floral design full of color and vibrancy running over her left shoulder and disappearing into the fabric of her dress.
How far down does it go?
I caught up to her and we walked silently, side by side, around the building along a little pathway that led to a small garden tucked between the office buildings.
“The dentist next door thought I was crazy when I told him I wanted to plant a garden back here, but I think he likes it now. I catch him back here, eating his lunch every once in a while.”
I took a look around and admired the way she’d grown vines to creep up the building, creating an intimate atmosphere that made me almost forget where I was.
“It’s great,” I said.
She motioned toward a chair, and I took a seat, watching her do the same. My foot started tapping like a jackhammer in anticipation of what she might say.
Was there something wrong with Noah?
Had I done everything wrong?
Shit, I’m a terrible parent.
I felt her hand on my knee, and I steadied.
“Whoa there. You look like you’re about to explode,” she said.
“Sorry, I’m nervous.”
She smiled. “You have nothing to be nervous about, Jackson. Noah is a great kid, a perfectly normal kid.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding for probably months. “Are you sure?”