“Stuff like this wouldn’t happen if you’d just let your mother pick them up and take care of them like she wants.”
I rolled my eyes and took in a deep breath. “You and Mom both did your time. You’re grandparents, not parents. She shouldn’t be picking them up and taking care of them five days a week. She should be spoiling them on Saturday afternoons and watching dance recitals. You guys already do too much.”
“One of these days you’ll realize that being a parent never ends. Taking care of those kids is no different than taking care of you.”
This was an unusually sentimental moment from my father.
“Dad, I gotta go.”
“Go, then.” He waved a hand at me as if I was annoying him. He was getting grumpy in his old age.
When I arrived at the school I found Jaxy and Grace sitting in the shade of the tree in the front of the building. They were on a blanket with what looked like crackers, juice boxes, and a pile of books.
“Daddy!” Jaxy jumped up and ran toward me, wrapping his arms around me in a running hug.
“Hey, bud. How are you?” I clasped his face in my hands and looked into his eyes.
“I’m fine. Miss Richards has been hanging out with me since my bus didn’t show up.” I looked up to see Grace folding the blanket they’d just been sitting on. “She gave me a snack and let me read the books only fifth graders are allowed to check out from the library.”
“That sounds fun.” I let go of his face and took his hand in mine. “Let’s go help her pick up.” As we approached, Grace caught my eye and a smile spread over her face. She looked happy and something about seeing the smile light her up tugged at me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I approached.
She waved me away. “Don’t worry. It’s not a big deal. Stuff happens. It was fun to spend a little one-on-one time with Jax.” She winked at him and he giggled.
“Let us help you,” I said, reaching for the blanket in her hands.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice softer.
Jaxy grabbed the snack garbage and I had the blanket and books. “Lead the way,” I said, nodding toward the doors to the school. She turned and started walking, falling into step right next to me. She swiped her key card in front of the sensor and I heard the doors click. Balancing the blanket and books in one hand, I reached forward and opened the door for her. Unfortunately, and much to my embarrassment, Jaxy ran in first.
“Jax,” I said firmly, but with a smile, “You always let girls go through doors first. You know that.” I turned to Grace, “I’m sorry. Please,” I nodded toward the door again. “After you.” Her head dipped low and I could have sworn a blush crept over her cheeks.
“Why?” Jax questioned when we were all inside.
“Why, what?” I asked, still a little distracted by the color of Grace’s cheeks.
“Why do girls get to go first?”
“Girls and women are precious, Jax. You have to protect them and treat them carefully. That means making sure they go first.”
I could see him thinking hard about what I was saying, and finally he spoke. “Ruby can open a door just as good as I can.”
I dropped a hand on his shoulder and knelt down in front of him, placing the blanket and books on the floor next to me. “I don’t hold the door open for women because I think they can’t. I hold doors for women because I respect them and they deserve to be treated well, Jax. Miss Richards deserves your respect, son. All women deserve your respect, but especially Miss Richards. So next time, you let her go first. All right?”
“Okay,” he agreed quietly.
“Okay.” I let him go with a ruffle of his hair, which made him groan. I picked everything up off the floor and took back up beside Grace. “Sorry about that,” I said.
“Don’t be,” she said softly. We walked quietly next to each other while Jax ran ahead, leading the way.
“They go here,” Jax said, pointing to a bookshelf. I held the books out to him one by one and watched as he found their spots, examining each book carefully to determine its place.
“Okay, kid, lead the way to the classroom.” Jax ran ahead again and I chuckled.
“Most kids his age would have just put the books anywhere on the shelf. Did you see him organizing the books by author? Alphabetically? It’s not typical of a second grader.”
“He’s always been really detailed,” I say casually. I hadn’t ever really thought about why Jaxy was the way he was.
“It’s just another one of those things that makes him special.”
We walked Grace to her classroom and I watched as she placed the blanket in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. “Can we walk you out to your car?” I asked, not feeling comfortable leaving her in an almost abandoned building on a Friday evening. The lights throughout the building had been turned off, with only a few left on for necessity.