It's going down, and it's going down right the fuck now. I don't care if there is a room full of witnesses. This slut is getting a piece of my mind.

I square my body towards her and wiggle the fingers of my hands as they hang down at my sides, wishing I wore worn my gun belt. Wishing I had a gun belt.

Little Skankasaurus Rex over there tilts her head from side to side, cracking her neck, as we stared each other down. No one in the classroom moves and all eyes are on the two of us. I'm pretty sure I see tumbleweed roll by, but it might have just been a wad of paper one of the kids had thrown. Whatever.

"Mom! What are you doing?" Gavin whispers loudly as he runs back up to me. "You're supposed to be passing out the cupcakes."

"Hey, remember when I used to ask you all the time when you were little who you wanted to marry when you grew up and you would always say, 'I just want to marry my mommy'?" I ask him without taking my eyes off of Fourth Grade Floozy.

"Um, sure. Whatever. Can we have the cupcakes now?" he asks, growing impatient with me.

"You still want to marry Mommy, right?" The desperation is clear in my voice.

"Mom, you know that's illegal, right? Seriously, we're hungry. Give us the sugar and no one gets hurt," Gavin threatens.

"You should go back to your seat, Son. Go back to your seat and cover your eyes. As a matter of fact, cover your ears too," I inform him distractedly.

I take a step in Brooklyn's direction. Just thinking her name makes me cringe. Her parents had named her after a city known for housing the Russian mafia and call girls. Not to mention dirty. Dirty, little Brooklyn. It's a nice place to visit, but no one wants to live there. I bet you it says that under her name on her birth certificate.

She takes a step in my direction as well, and before I know it, she's skipping across the room towards me at lightning-fast speed, barreling into the front of me and wrapping her arms around my waist, squeezing on for dear life. I stand there with a look of horror on my face as I stare at the top of her head, unable to move.

Finally, she pulls away from me and beams at me with a huge smile on her face.

"Hi there, Mrs. Ellis! I'm so excited to finally meet you! You're so pretty! And I love your shirt! Wow, you're really young! You don't have any wrinkles on your face like my mom does! I love your hair! When I grow up, I want to look just like you!"

Is this some new form of warfare? Kill the enemy with kindness? Her skills are no match for mine. NO MATCH! And she speaks in nothing but exclamations. I don't know whether to challenge her to a cage fighting match or braid her hair.

"Your son is really nice. And really cute! But you probably know that already," Brooklyn continued.

"Eeeew, gross," Gavin mutters next to me.

I reach out blindly for him and fling my arm around his shoulder, pulling him into my side in a crushing one-armed hug.

"He is cute, isn't he?" I tell Brooklyn. "And he's such a good boy. So nice and polite and did you know he told me he's going to marry me when he grows up?"

Gavin lets out a gasp and whines in a loud whisper.

"Mooooooooom! Cut it out!"

Brooklyn claps her hands together in glee. "Oh my gosh! That is the sweetest thing EVER! You are the best mom in the world. He talks about you all the time," she explains.

I'm totally going to cry. Right here in the middle of this fourth grade class. I am going to curl up in the fetal position sucking my thumb and sobbing like a baby.

I takes me about ten minutes to compose myself, but I manage to do it as well as pass out the cupcakes and juice. Oh, and I tell Brooklyn she can call the house anytime she likes.

"Alright, I hope this makes up for the fact that I tried to act like Liz and Jim this Valentine's Day. Open your eyes," Carter tells me later that evening after the dishes from dinner have been cleared.

I slowly open my eyes and on the table in front of me is a vase full of a dozen long-stemmed pink roses, my favorite, and a thin box wrapped with a red bow on top. I quickly tear into the box, lift the lid, and my breath catches in my throat as I look at what's inside.

"Where did you find this?" I whisper, trying to hold back the tears I can feel pooling in my eyes.

"I found it at your dad's. I told him what was going on with girls suddenly calling the house, and he pulled out a box of things from when you and Gavin used to live with him," Carter explains as he scoots his chair closer to mine and rests his chin on my shoulder so we can both look at the eight-by-ten frame in my hands.

Back when Gavin was around four, right before I found Carter again, he and I used to have weddings at night after his bath. It was a huge production. He would come into the living room, tell me it was time for our wedding, and then we'd stand up in the middle of the room, exchange gifts (which usually consisted of two stuffed animals that we traded), and say our vows.

"Mommy, do you wanna marry me?"

"I do!"

"And I wanna marry you, so yay! We're married! Let's go on a honeymoon to the kitchen and have pop and cookies!"

I had no idea my dad took a picture of one of our weddings. In the frame, Carter blew up a profile picture of Gavin, in a pair of Spider Man pajamas, and me, in a t-shirt and yoga pants, standing in my dad's living room facing each other, holding hands. How had I ever thought for one minute that Carter didn't know me or that he wouldn't pick out the most amazing Valentine's Day gift ever?

"Carter, this is amazing!" I tell him as I take my eyes off of the picture from what seems like so many years ago to look at the man I love.

He takes my face in his hands and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. No matter what, Gavin will always be your little boy. The first woman he ever asked to marry him. Even when he's in fifth grade and those little bitches pull out the big guns and start getting boob jobs and vaginal rejuvenation surgeries."

***