Page 1 of This Kind of Forever
ONE
GABE
Parent-teacher conferences makemy skin itch.
Or maybe it’s just setting foot inside the school I hated for the decade I had to attend. Although we’re twins, my sister Clara and I had very different elementary school experiences. As the only girl in the family, she stood out on her own. But me? I was Luke Bowman’s younger brother. I love my brother, and I look up to him in a lot of ways, but constantly being compared to him got old the day I started kindergarten.
The school gym looks no different than it did the day of my grade eight graduation fourteen years ago. At the time, it hadn’t improved much from when my parents had attended as kids—the same white brick walls, covered in colourful handprints from each graduating class that had come before, and banners from various sports competitions hanging from the rafters.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
Delilah presents a small paper cup to me. In the few months it’s been since my brother’s girlfriend moved to the island, we’ve become good friends. My daughter and her sister are attached atthe hip now, so we weren’t given much of a choice. It helps that I like her, though. Especially because she doesn’t put up with Luke’s shit.
I take the offered cup and peer inside. “Fruit punch?”
She grins. “The stiffest drink the meet the teacher barbecue has to offer.”
There are a lot of things you don’t really consider about parenthood until you’re thrust into the thick of it. One of those things is having to attend functions at your kid’s school and mingle with a bunch of other people who don’t want to be there for one reason or another. I’d give my life for my daughter, but I’d rather be anywhere else than this stuffy gymnasium.
“Your first one,” I say. “How are you holding up?”
Her smile dims a little. Delilah took guardianship of her siblings last year and abruptly went from older sister to parent figure. The Delacroixes have had their share of setbacks since then, but it seems like things are slowly becoming more manageable.
“Alright,” she says. She looks down, picking at the lip of her cup. “It never gets easier having to rehash what happened, but I figured Soph’s teacher should have all the details in case it impacts her at school. Just working up the courage to talk to her.”
I offer her an encouraging smile. “It’ll be a bit of a transition, but Soph will be okay. Kids are tougher than you realize, and you’ll be there to help her.”
Her expression turns grateful, but then her gaze flicks to something over my shoulder. Turning, I find my older brother striding toward us. He’s dressed in his work clothes, so he must have come straight here from the fire station. I would have, too, if I hadn’t worked a night shift last night.
“Hey,” Delilah calls. “What are you doing here?”
Luke’s arm slides around her shoulders, and he presses a quick kiss to her lips. “I know you’re nervous about this. Thought I’d come offer some moral support.”
She leans into him. “Thank you.”
“Where’s Soph?” he asks, looking around the gym.
I point to the far corner, where Delilah’s sister is standing with my daughter and a few other kids. They’ve been running around for the past fifteen minutes. “Abbie is determined to bring her out of her shell.”
Delilah looks in their direction, worry marring her features. “I hope she makes more friends here. She was pretty upset when I told her Abbie couldn’t be in her class because she’s in a different grade.”
“She will,” Luke assures. “In the meantime, she’s got Abbs. They’ll see each other at recess.”
Delilah sighs. “I guess I should go find her teacher now. We’ll see you later, Gabe.”
They walk away, and I pull out my phone, sending Abbie’s mom an update about the uneventful evening. Larissa is usually here to laugh at my misery, but she took another nurse’s shift today and is still at work.
Only twenty more minutes. Then I’ll tell Abbie it’s time to go. I’ve already met and spoken to her teacher for this year, so I’ve done my part.
I really shouldn’t complain. I like being present for my daughter, and she’s a great kid. I just really hate being in this goddamn school.
“Mr. Bowman?”
Looking up from my phone, I find Trina Reynolds standing in front of me. She taught Abbie’s senior kindergarten class last year. I remember her a little from when we were in high school. She’s a year or two younger than me, but in such a small town, it’s impossible not to at least knowofeveryone.
I smile at her, pocketing my phone. “Just Gabe is fine.”
Her cheeks pinken, and she flashes me a coy smile in return. “Just Gabe, then.”
