by Nella Tyler
“The flyer tells kids to invite their mother and father for a family lunch date,” I continued. “This is incredibly insensitive. I’m sure my daughter isn’t the only child in school being raised by a single parent. She came home in tears last Friday after this handout was distributed. It took days to calm her down. I don’t understand why there has to be an emphasis on inviting both parents. What about kids who don’t have that as an option?”
Vice Principal Norwood was seated to Principal Clarkson’s left. Her dark eyes suddenly locked on mine, and I could see she was about to speak in defense of this event.
“No one is excluded from this lunch,” she pointed out. “Kids are welcome to bring one parent, two parents, or any trusted adult. We have children at this school who are being raised by their grandparents or other family members. They are encouraged to bring anyone they love and respect.”
“That’s not what the flyer says.” I began to read from the description. “‘Valentine’s Day is for those you love. Invite your mom and dad to sit with you at a special table for three.’” I looked up again, giving each member of the board a scathing look. “That doesn’t sound like kids are supposed to invite whoever they happen to live with. It sounds like they need to bring both parents, so they can sit at a special table for three.”
Principal Clarkson was frowning a little, his dark eyes troubled behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “That wording is unfortunate. It doesn’t really make sense, considering some students have siblings here at Blaine and would therefore need a table that accommodated more than three people.”
I carried on, not wanting to get stuck in the task of proofreading the damned flyer. “I just don’t want my daughter coming home in tears because her mother can’t attend some school lunch. This has absolutely nothing to do with academic instruction, and I think it should be pulled from the calendar.”
The members of the board talked quietly amongst themselves while I stood glaring at them.
Finally, Principal Clarkson said, “Thank you for your concerns, Mr. Reid. We will take them into consideration and let you know about our final decision after we get a chance to thoroughly discuss it at our next regular board meeting.”
I didn’t even bother to ask when that was. I got the message loud and clear. They weren’t going to do a goddamned thing about this. I briefly met Miss East’s green eyes as I scanned the room looking for potential allies in this fight.
I shook my head and walked off, headed for the conference room in the back where I’d left my daughter. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do about that Valentine’s Day lunch. Sophia wanted to go, but she wanted Chelsea to be there with her, which could never happen. I was suddenly so pissed again that I could barely maintain my calm. But when I opened the door and saw my daughter bent over her book, I couldn’t help the smile that rose to my lips.
“Come on, pumpkin. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 6
Abigail Tuesday
I watched Mr. Reid storm away from the meeting, trailing little Sophia behind him by the hand. I looked at the panel of board members, who were ready to draw the meeting to a close. Everything made sense now: Sophia being so upset at school on Monday and the parent complaint about the Valentine’s Day lunch.
I was heartsick over the knowledge that she’d been upset all weekend after receiving the handout in class on Friday. All the kids had been so excited about the lunch, making plans about what they would wear and discussing the kinds of food they hoped would be served. Sophia hadn’t been one of them, but that was normal for her. She often kept her own counsel, not doing much more than listening as the children around her celebrated or grumbled. She was normally so even tempered, I hadn’t thought a thing about it. After hearing Mr. Reid speak about Sophia’s distress, I was overcome with guilt at the part I’d played in this.
I didn’t wait for the meeting to officially end. I just shot up out of my seat and rushed out into the hallway. Sophia and her father were at the end of the hall and about to step out through the double doors that led to the parking lot.
“Mr. Reid, wait!” I called out.
He turned and so did Sophia, whose face lit up with a sunny smile. She tugged out of her father’s grasp and ran back in my direction.
“Miss East!” She hugged my legs, and I leaned to give her a small squeeze. “We’re at school in the dark.”
“Yes, we are,” I said and laughed a little.
Mr. Reid looked annoyed. He hesitated at the door, watching his daughter clinging to my legs, and then he walked over to join us.
“Mr. Reid-” I began, and he flinched slightly before interrupting me.
“Call me Drew.”
I smiled at hearing his nickname. I knew his first name was Andrew, but we weren’t friendly or anything. I couldn’t really explain how I felt standing this close to him, his masculine cologne tickling my nose as I tilted my head back to look him in his stern, chiseled face. His good looks were disorienting, if I was telling the truth, a little like staring directly into a bright light. And once I locked eyes with him, it was impossible to look away again.
“Okay, Drew.” It gave me a thrill to call him by name. “Feel free to call me Abigail.”
The tightness in his features relaxed, but he wasn’t returning my smile quite yet.
“I just wanted to apologize for how this Valentine’s Day lunch upset your daughter.” I spoke in a quieter voice to keep from drawing Sophia’s attention. She’d pulled a book out of her bag and was reading it while the adults talked over her small head. “She told me on Monday that her mother wasn’t able to attend. I wasn’t part of the planning for this event, but I know the intention wasn’t to make children being raised by single parents feel self-conscious.”
Drew just stared at me without speaking, his eyes pinned to mine. I had absolutely no idea what he was thinking. So, I did the only thing I could: I kept going.
“I know what it feels like to be raised by a single parent.” I didn’t intend to go any further into my own personal story of being raised by my mom while my dad lived on the other side of the country and rarely visited, but I wanted him to know that I understood the struggles facing Sophia and other children at Blaine who didn’t have access to both of their parents on a daily basis.
“Maybe you should share your perspective with the board,” Drew said. He didn’t sound hostile, but he wasn’t being friendly, either. “They just wrote me off in there. I don’t expect anything to happen, at all. Meanwhile, I had to soothe my crying daughter on the way home from school last Friday.”
I opened my mouth to interject, but he shook his head, the intensity turning up in his eyes so they blazed with inner light that I’d seen before in Sophia, only gentler.
“I told her she didn’t have to go to this lunch,” he said, speaking in a lower tone. His eyes flicked down to check on Sophia, who was still busy ignoring us. “But that upset her even more. She wants to go to this lunch, but she wants her mother to go, too.” Drew’s face tightened again, this time with what looked like pain. I felt for him. In that moment, I felt for both of them. “That’s not possible. It’s bad enough that Sophia has to live without her every day, but then events like this come up that rub it in her face.”
I pressed my lips together as I watched him struggling with a sudden surge of emotion, not sure what to say that would fix this. So many kids at the school were already looking forward to this lunch, but it should have been framed in a way that wouldn’t have made kids without both parents feel like they were less than their classmates. I didn’t know how to solve this dilemma.
“I’m sorry, Drew,” I said — and meant it. I didn’t want to inject my own experiences into this conversation, but I recalled the five years in a row that my elementary school hosted a father daughter dance that I was never able to attend because my father lived hundreds of miles away and, at that point in my life, we’d never even met. How many times had I collapsed into my mother’s arms and ba
wled my eyes out over that? I thought. It seemed so insignificant now, but at the time it was the most important thing in my life. It pained me to think that Sophia might be feeling that way right now.
“I really do know how Sophia feels.” I glanced down at her, but she didn’t even look up at the mention of her name.
His hard expression didn’t soften, at all. “Then maybe you can go back into that meeting and tell the people sitting on the board that. Maybe you can convince them to plan an event that doesn’t make kids without both parents at home feel like social pariahs.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond, just dropped a hand onto Sophia’s shoulder and began to lead her towards the double doors at the end of the hallway.
Sophia turned to look over her jacketed shoulder. “Bye, Miss East! See you tomorrow!”
I waved at her. “Goodbye, sweetheart.” I watched her leave with her father, not moving until the doors closed, leaving me alone in the hallway. Other parents were leaving the library now that the meeting had officially ended. I stepped out of their way, pressing against the closest wall. There weren’t many of them since this had only been an emergency meeting. Once they’d passed, I went back inside the library. Terry was talking to some of the board members, but signaled to me to wait for him.
I drifted to the librarian’s station to wait him out. The other board members gathered their things and left the library, all except Terry and Rebecca. The conversation with Drew was troubling me. I didn’t know what the right answer was, but I intended to share my concerns.
“What did you think about Mr. Reid’s comments?” Terry asked. He crossed his arms and looked rather funny standing next to Rebecca, who was almost six feet tall without heels, which she was wearing today.
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. “I was able to speak with him in the hallway, and he expanded on the concerns he brought before the board. Sophia is in my classroom, and he’s right about her being upset. She came into class on Monday morning in tears over this Valentine’s Day lunch. She was upset because her mother isn’t able to attend. I tried to tell her that just bringing her father was perfectly okay, but she was nearly inconsolable. She seemed down on Friday after I passed out the flyers for their take home folders, but I didn’t really notice it then. It’s heartbreaking to me that she spent the weekend upset and still wasn’t feeling better about all this on Monday morning.”
Terry took the time to process everything I’d just said. It was one of the best things about him. He didn’t write people off when they came to him with issues, even if they weren’t important in the grand scheme of things. Whether you were discussing a critical matter or talking about something unimportant, it all seemed to matter to Terry Clarkson.
Rebecca was the first to speak. She was dressed in her normal pantsuit, this one dark charcoal gray, with her hair pulled back into a professional-looking ponytail. Though she dressed like the CEO of a tech company, she was perfectly willing to get down on the kids’ level during the day and get silly with them, which I loved. I couldn’t think of two better people to be running the day-to-day operations of this elementary school than Terry and Rebecca.
“How many other children in your class were upset by this lunch?” she asked.
“Just Sophia, but that doesn’t mean others weren’t upset. I have several students who are living with a single parent for whatever reason. Do you think that Dr-” I caught myself before I finished the rest of Drew’s first name. This was a parent of a student, not my personal friend. I needed to keep it professional. I started over again, being more careful this time. “Do you think that Mr. Reid has a point about this? I can attest to the fact that his daughter was very upset. I really don’t want any child to feel like she isn’t welcome or included at an event put on by the school.”
Terry rubbed a hand over his short hair. He looked exhausted. “We’ve only had one complaint about this Valentine’s Day lunch. Several teachers and parent volunteers have put a lot of work into this event. I don’t like that a little girl was upset by it, but I can’t see canceling it because of a single complaint. That’s just not fair to the other children.”
I could see his point, but he hadn’t been there to comfort poor Sophia as she wept in my arms, completely heartbroken. This wasn’t a great situation, and I didn’t envy him in the least bit for being the one who always had to make the tough decisions.
“So, it’s going to go on as planned?” I asked.
“I think that makes the most sense. We can change the messaging for the event and tell kids to invite a loved one. We should have been more sensitive to begin with, I admit that.”
I was both disappointed and relieved to hear his final word on the matter. So many kids were excited about this lunch. I just needed to think of a way to make it fun for Sophia.
We chatted for a few minutes more about other matters before we all said goodnight. I left them behind to discuss issues involving the school lunch menus and walked out to the parking lot in the chilly darkness.
I looked up at the moon, just a white sliver in the sky, and thought about Sophia at home crying her eyes out over some stupid lunch at school. There had to be something I could do to cheer her up and get her excited about the Valentine’s Day event.
I got in my car and drove home, my thoughts moving in stubborn circles as I tried and failed to come up with a solution.
Chapter 7
Drew Wednesday
I tossed another finished report from one of our many construction sites onto the completed pile. I sat back in my chair, rubbing my forehead where the beginning of a headache was just settling in at my temples.
“Is everything alright?” Brian asked. “You’ve been pissy all morning.”
I glanced up at him, ready to argue, but the open, concerned look on his face made me rethink my kneejerk aggressive response. He was right. I’d been livid since the school board meeting. That had been a complete waste of my time. Going there to talk for less than five minutes and basically get ignored had only pissed me off more than I already was. Sophia still wanted to go to the damned Valentine’s lunch, and every time I reminded her that Chelsea couldn’t go, she got upset enough to cry. We’d had a rough couple of days since that flyer came home last Friday.
I sighed as I leaned back in my chair to stretch my spine. “It’s Sophia.”
Brian looked worried. “What’s wrong with our girl?”
I was getting pissed all over again just thinking about what to tell him. It sounded kind of silly when I thought of the story on its own. If not for how upset Sophia still was over this, I’d be laughing.
“The school is having this Valentine’s Day lunch, but they advertised it by telling kids to invite both of their parents so they can sit at a table for three.”
Brian’s face hadn’t changed. He hadn’t understood the punchline. I came right out with it to make this easier.
“Sophia doesn’t have a mother.”
He lifted his dark eyebrows in understanding. “Ah.”
“Right. I picked her up on Friday after school, and she burst into tears when I asked her about her day. She wants to go to this damned lunch more than anything, but she wants to go with both of her parents. I had to explain again, three years after she died, why Sophia can’t bring Chelsea with her. She knows her mother is gone. We’ve been out to her grave many times. We talk about her whenever it seems right. I just don’t know what to do about this. She’s more upset now than when Chelsea passed away.”
“I could go as her backup dad,” Brian offered. “That would give her two people at her table.”
My shitty mood rolled back a little. It always softened my heart the way Brian jumped in to take care of Sophia. He loved her like his own, even though he’d said for years that he didn’t want his any of his own children. He claimed Sophia was enough for him.
I shook my head. “She wants a mommy and a daddy at the lunch. I don’t know what the hell to do. I even o
ffered to take her to the rock climbing adventure park all day that day. Usually, that would clinch it, but she really wants to go to this thing. She has it in her head that she needs to have two parents there. I don’t know what the hell to do.”
Brian thought on everything I’d said for a few moments while I sat and stewed in my seat. Suddenly, he brightened, but I didn’t like the shine in his eyes. His love for my daughter aside, Brian Greyson was still a world-class scheming smartass.
“I have an idea,” he began, but I was already shaking my head.
“I really don’t want to hear it right now, Bri.”
He laughed, and that confirmed that whatever he’d come up with was going to be more smartass than helpful. “No, just listen. It could really work.”
I sighed, knowing I was going to regret this. “Fine. What’s your idea?”
“You could hire a prostitute to stand in as your love interest. Then Sophia would have a woman sitting at the table.” His mouth was twitching, and I could see he was struggling not to burst out laughing before he saw my reaction.
“You are an asshole,” I spat the words, but couldn’t keep the smile off of my face as I did so.
He laughed his maniacal giggle as I shook my head.
“What kind of dumbass idea is that?” But even as I asked it, I thought he might be onto something. What if I could find a woman to stand in for Sophia’s mother, just for that lunch?
“Hey, you said you needed a woman to sit with you at the table. I came up with a viable option. Do you have anything better to offer?”
“I sure as hell don’t have anything worse.”
He laughed again.
“What if I did what you suggested, but not with a prostitute? That just doesn’t seem like the kind of person I want around my daughter.”
He gave me a withering look, his eyes narrowed. “Of course, you wouldn’t want a prostitute around Sophia. That’s why it’s a joke.”