by Leah Torie
She startled as a hand went around her shoulders. Tom was giving her a reassuring hug.
“Shh. Shh.”
“She’ll be with my dad, soon,” Jessie sniffled, feeling like the years had fallen away and she was that lost and confused six-year-old all over again.
“I want to say it will be okay...” he trailed off.
“But you can’t. Because it won’t.” Jessie knew what she faced. “What about your father?”
“He’s in his eighties. There was a significant age gap between him and my mother, and he was fifty when I was born. Dementia got him about two years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt completely self-centered and rude because she had never asked Tom anything before now. Every time they’d crossed paths, everything had been all about her. He probably thought she was a narcissist or something.
His hand left her, and she felt the empty space where it had been. She was still wiping her eyes when the principal’s door opened, and the man himself stood framed by the doorway.
“Mr. and Mrs. Martin?” he asked.
“He’s not my husband,” Jessie blurted, then heat flared in her cheeks.
“I’m a family friend.” Tom stepped forward and offered the principal his hand. Mr. Strathclyde eyed Tom distastefully. “Tom Davies,” Tom added, with a winning smile.
Mr. Strathclyde’s expression changed to one of deference. “Tom Davies? You are acquainted with Mrs. Martin?”
“Miss Martin,” Jessie corrected him firmly.
The principal gave her a withering glare. Jessie was about to hunch her shoulders in an attempt to make herself as small and unobtrusive as possible, but instead she cocked her chin, refusing to feel ashamed of the fact she was a single mom anymore.
“Come into my office, please.” Mr. Strathclyde’s tone was clipped. Still feeling like she was in trouble, Jessie followed him. Tom’s hand on her shoulder reassured her that she wasn’t alone.
The office was one of those pretentious types, with dark mahogany-colored shelves filled with dusty books. When Jessie peered more closely, she saw brush strokes. They were cheap painted pine, made to look more imposing. And the books seemed to hold the weight of knowledge of generations of educators, until it occurred to her that if they were that useful, why were they so dusty? Surely any good reference book would be used regularly, not ignored on a shelf.
She wondered why she sent Taylor here at all, then remembered it was at her mother’s insistence.
When her mom died, Taylor could go to a normal school. The thought filled Jessie with shame for thinking that way about her poor mother. She was a terrible daughter, constantly letting her mom down, and she wished she knew how to do better.
Jessie sat on one of the polished leather upright chairs. They looked like they belonged at a dining table. Another attempt to make this room feel more old-money than it really was.
Principal Strathclyde sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers. More showmanship. Jessie glanced at Tom, who looked unimpressed.
“Can we dispense with the theater, Mr. Strathclyde?” he asked. Jessie’s eyes widened, and she looked to the other man to see how he would take the criticism.
“Mrs.—sorry. Miss Martin.” The principal allowed himself a tight smile. “This school is fifty years old. We were founded in nineteen-seventy.” He paused for effect.
“I probably have out of date milk that’s older than that,” she remarked under her breath to Tom, whose mouth contorted as he tried not to laugh out loud.
“We have values and traditions here that have to be respected and upheld.”
Jessie frowned. “What are you talking about? Did Taylor do something to the school mascot?”
Mr. Strathclyde’s face tightened. “Your daughter has been granted the privilege of being on the school gymnastics team, even though she is a first-grader. The role requires a certain amount of humility and grace.” He paused again, and Jessie wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t.
“Part of being on a sports team is taking part in team-building activities. She is the newest member of the team, therefore it is her place to accept the... guidance of older members and to assist them until such a time as a newer team member appears.”
Jessie still didn’t see where this was going.
“Miss Martin, I don’t know what you allow your daughter to do at home, but fighting at school is not—”
“How about you tell us what happened instead of alluding to it and making passive-aggressive but unproductive comments?” Tom interrupted. Jessie snorted with amusement but put on a serious face immediately.
“The girls in the gym team were taking part in a team-building activity led by the team captain, a sixth-grader with a strong record for leadership, in the locker room. Taylor didn’t take the activity in the good grace expected of our pupils. She bit the team captain.”
“She bit her?” Jessie gasped.
At the same time, Tom demanded, “You mean she didn’t want to be the subject of a hazing and fought back and you’ve taken the other girls’ sides because they went crying to you that it went wrong?”
The principal looked visibly affronted. The bottom dropped out of Jessie’s stomach and she glared across the pompous, oversized desk.
“Is this true?”
Mr. Strathclyde frowned. “It was a team-building activity.”
“You can keep saying that, Mr. Strathclyde, but we both know what really happened and if you don’t want Jessie to sue you, you’ll back down over whatever jumped-up consequences you’ve cooked up for Taylor.” Tom’s voice got louder. “I’m sure the local news would love to know that you allow your kids to take part in ritualistic bullying.”
“It’s not bullying. It’s tradition. Most students take it gracefully. Your daughter hasn’t been taught what is appropriate.”
Jessie felt white-hot fury boiling up in her veins.
“Where is my daughter?”
“She is isolated from the rest of the school.”
“You put my seven-year-old daughter in isolation for standing up to an eleven-year-old bully?” The injustice burned. Jessie knew she wasn’t handling this well but she had gone into mama-bear mode and wouldn’t back down.
“Take her home. Discipline her. She is suspended for the rest of the week. When she comes back, I expect her to offer a contrite apology to the team captain.”
“Like David apologized to Goliath?” Jessie demanded.
“I don’t follow.”
Jessie looked to Tom. “Is David and Goliath an obscure reference?”
Tom shook his head.
“I don’t think I want my daughter attending this school anymore,” Jessie shot at the principal.
“Now, don’t make a hasty decision—” Mr. Strathclyde held his hands up in an attempt to placate Jessie but she wouldn’t be cowed.
“Where is my daughter?” She was losing patience.
With a deep sigh, Mr. Strathclyde picked up the telephone on his desk. “Pam? Can you send Taylor Martin to my office, please?”
Jessie, Tom and Mr. Strathclyde sat in frosty silence waiting for Taylor. A soft knock on the door was followed by a middle-aged woman leading Taylor in. There were tear tracks down the girl’s cheeks and her hair was tangled on one side, looking like someone had pulled it hard. She still wore her gym clothes. Jessie rushed to her daughter and ensconced her in a hug.
“It’s all right, baby, Mama’s here,” she murmured. Taylor put her arms around Jessie’s waist and clung to her.
“It’s easy to get carried away in the heat of the moment, Miss Martin. Taylor can return on Monday. Providing she apologizes.”
“No. What kind of an example would I be setting if I allowed bullies to walk all over my child? C’mon, Taylor, honey, we’re leaving.” Jessie took her daughter’s hand and left. Footsteps followed behind her.
“You forgot your purse.” Tom’s voice was steady, and Jessie appreciated that he hadn’t sided with the principal.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t say anything else until they were outside.
“Here, Taylor, hop into the back.” He pulled the seat forward and she climbed in. Jessie smiled at him gratefully as she walked around to the passenger door.
“Thanks for this,” she said, unsure how to convey the rush of gratitude and joy that had bubbled up inside her chest.
“No problem.” Tom’s voice gave nothing away.
He drove them back home and stopped on the street outside Jessie’s slightly overgrown front lawn. Her car was in the driveway so it was clear Anna was back, now.
“Do you want to come in for coffee?” She felt awkward asking him.
“No, thanks. I have to go see my mom. She had a fall this morning.”
“Oh, gosh, I hope she’s okay. I’m sorry we took up your time.” Jessie got out of the car and helped her daughter out.
“It’s fine, really. She’s a tough old bird.” He grinned wryly and Jessie didn’t know whether she should laugh or not. He had made a joke, which implied she ought to laugh, but it was about his mother, and she didn’t think it was appropriate for Jessie to laugh at Tom’s mother’s expense.
“Well, good luck, and thanks again!” She closed the door with a cheery wave, then turned toward her front door, trying not to be too disappointed that he couldn’t stay.
Them’s the breaks, she told herself.
Anyway, what was she expecting to happen if he came inside? They would sit in the kitchen drinking coffee, probably accompanied by Anna and Taylor.
The idea suddenly seemed less appealing. Jessie didn’t know why she wanted to be alone with Tom, but it didn’t matter anyway, because he had turned her down. Why did she care so much? As his engine revved and he pulled away, she made herself not turn around. It would be wrong to show too much interest, even though she wanted to spend all her time with him.
Chapter 9
“How can there be a wait list for places? The school has been in the local news three years running for being undersubscribed!” Jessie sat at the breakfast bar eyeing her orange juice and doodling idly on the telephone pad while she tried to get the local school to take Taylor. Apparently, they were full. She wondered if Principal Strathclyde had called and warned them that Taylor was a bad student.
Take off the tinfoil hat, Jessie, she told herself. There was no sense seeing conspiracies when there were perfectly logical explanations for things. Perhaps there had been an influx of immigrants lately. The school’s roll may have genuinely increased.
She was stressed by the time she got off the phone. Switching schools had seemed like such an easy plan when Jessie had yanked her daughter out of Mayflower Pre-Prep. Now, however, it looked like the only option was the local Catholic school. While Jessie had nothing against Catholics, the school was across town and she didn’t like the idea of sending her baby on a long school bus journey.
Still, Taylor needed an education. Wait. She could homeschool her! Jessie picked up her phone again, but instead of calling the last elementary school in Oakdale, she opened her browser and did an online search to find out how straightforward it was to homeschool. There didn’t seem to be much bureaucracy, or set learning hours, or any of the other things peculiar to the school environment.
Could she really do this?
She slowly sipped at her OJ and researched some more.
“How’s it going? Does Taylor have a place at a school, yet?” Anna asked.
Jessie shook her head. “Nope. And she isn’t going to get one.”
Anna frowned, looking confused.
“What do you mean? She has to go to school, Jessie.”
“No, she doesn’t. She has to receive an education. There’s a huge difference between the two things.”
Anna looked completely confused.
“Well, what, then?”
Anna grabbed a stool and perched beside Jessie.
“I’m going to homeschool her.” Jessie smiled. Anna didn’t.
“You? You barely finished high school!”
Jessie shrugged. “I know. But she’s not in high school. I’m pretty sure even I can handle homeschooling a seven-year-old.”
Anna still didn’t share Jessie’s enthusiasm. “And when she’s eight? Nine? Twelve? Fifteen? What then?”
Jessie waved a hand dismissively at what she saw as fine details in her great plan. “I’ll cross those bridges when I come to them. Maybe she’ll need a tutor or something.”
“How can you be so relaxed about this? It’s your daughter’s future!”
It seemed so weird for Anna to be this stressed about Taylor’s schooling. Jessie didn’t like when her sister got like this. Sometimes Anna got stuck on the littlest things and when she did, she became bossy. When Anna told Jessie what to do, Jessie tended to do the complete opposite, just to make the point that she could. Right now, the idea of sending Taylor to school seemed ludicrous.
“Homeschooling just feels right. I can’t explain it,” Jessie said.
“You’ll have to do better than that. What do you think Mom is going to say when she hears about this?”
“Who will she hear it from?” Jessie countered, trying to make the point that they didn’t need to trouble their mom with every little thing Jessie did.
“Well, unless you’re planning on leaving Taylor home alone when you go visit Mom this afternoon...” Anna left the sentence hanging in the air, but her meaning was clear.
“Ohhhh. Yeah. Drat. I guess she’ll see Taylor and want to know why she isn’t in school.”
“Right. And I wouldn’t want to be you when you have that conversation.”
Anna had a point. Jessie didn’t want to have a confrontation or any unpleasantness with her mom. She wondered momentarily how much smoother her life would have gone if she didn’t have Taylor.
The way Mrs. Martin told it, Jessie probably would have been president of the United States by now if Taylor didn’t exist. She shook her head. It was much more likely she would have done everything she was currently doing, but maybe spent a few years at college instead of waking up every two hours to feed a baby.
Would she be a different person? Probably. But not in a good way.
Jessie knew what she had been like before her life caved in with that one mistake. She had been hungry for success, certain she was going to have a high-flying career, not interested in having a family at all. When she’d had the positive pregnancy test, she had called Keith, the man she had been completely in love with.
“Get rid of it. I’m going to college.” His eight words had told her everything she needed to know about him. There had been a fluttering in her belly, a life as delicate and precious as a butterfly flapping its wings, and the baby had caused just as much chaos, too.
Her mother, who sat in church every Sunday nodding passionately while the pastor preached about forgiveness and loving every life God had created, arranged an appointment with a doctor. When Jessie had refused to attend, Mrs. Martin had thrown her out and tried to cut her off. Jessie’s father had been more pragmatic about things. She still remembered the way he’d calmly talked his wife out of her rage.
“We all have lapses in judgement. What’s done is done. But two wrongs don’t make a right. Jessie is keeping her baby, you know it would be unforgivable to take the baby from her,” he had said.
“What about the neighbors?” Mrs. Martin had demanded. “Jessie can’t stay under this roof!”
Jessie’s father had nodded sagely. “She can’t stay here. A baby needs a calm and loving home. Why don’t we help her set up by buying her a house?”
Mrs. Martin had been livid, but since they had given the same amount of money to both Jessie’s sisters when they had gotten married, Mrs. Martin couldn’t talk her husband out of it. From that moment on, it was generally understood that Jessie was never going to find anyone to marry her because she was damaged goods and came with too much extra responsibility in the form of Taylor.
The moment the b
aby was born, Jessie’s father had adored his new granddaughter. Her mom had, too, when she thought no one was looking. Slowly, fences were mended, and by the time Mr. Martin died, three years ago, he had secretly told Jessie in a broken voice that she was his favorite daughter, because she had been there for him every day since he had been diagnosed with pneumonia.
Jessie had never told her sisters or her mom about that, and she never would. It was enough to know she was loved; there was no sense in stirring the pot.
Yep, life would definitely have been different if Taylor hadn’t existed. Jessie couldn’t imagine how empty her heart would have been without her daughter’s beautiful smile. What career was worth that? What school deserved to take that smile away? In her mind, it was settled that Taylor would be homeschooled, and if other people took issue, they could get in line behind the people constantly judging her for being a single mom.
“Hey, Anna?” Jessie began, reluctant to interrupt her sister now she was doing something on her phone.
“Yes?”
“If Mom doesn’t want me to homeschool, she’s entitled to her opinion—goodness knows she has enough opinions about me—but that’s not going to change my mind.”
Anna chuckled. “I thought as much.”
“What d’you mean?”
“You have that face.”
Jessie frowned. “What face?”
Anna waved a hand vaguely. “That face you always get when you’re determined to do something, no matter the consequences. It’s the same face you had when you told Mom you were keeping Taylor. When you have that face, you’ll find a way to do whatever it is you’re trying and no one can stop you.”
“Do you think I’m wrong?”
Anna shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I don’t have kids, so I don’t think I’m allowed to have an opinion on anything to do with parenting choices. I know if I did have kids I’d want them to go to school, but if that didn’t work out, I’d consider my options.”