by Mia Kayla
“No.” My voice was cutthroat. “I won’t tolerate it. I suggest you schedule a meeting with Jennifer’s parents today.” The or else at the end of the sentence was implied. “I’ll wait for your call before the end of the day. Thanks.” I unbuttoned my suit jacket, turned to leave, and exited the school to find—oddly enough—a laughing group of three.
As soon as they saw me, they sobered up, and their laughter ceased.
“Don’t stop on my account.” I tried not to smile at them, not sure if this was a smiling situation just yet.
“Daddy!” Mary rushed toward me, jumping into my arms. “You took us out of school today? What’s the occasion? Can we get ice cream?”
“Maybe later.” After pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, I set her on her feet. I needed to talk to Sarah.
“I heard Sarah beat up a girl,” Mary exclaimed proudly.
“I didn’t beat her up. I shoved her,” Sarah deadpanned, annoyed and looking a little like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Her eyes still wouldn’t meet mine, and I knew she was embarrassed. Sarah was not a crier. I chalked it up to the fact that she’d cried all her tears when her mother died. But I could sense her anxiety rolling off of her.
“Becky, can you take Mary home? I’ll drive with Sarah.”
Becky teetered on her heels, and a part of me knew she didn’t want to leave Sarah alone right now.
“It’s fine. I’ll just be a little bit,” I said.
“Okay.” She headed to the car—a BMW SUV that was her designated vehicle while she stayed with us.
Slipping my hand through Sarah’s, I walked us toward my vehicle. Her eyes were downturned, her shoulders slouched. I decided to have this conversation now, not wanting to drag it out any longer.
“Hey,” I said, sitting down at the nearest bench.
In small script letters on a plaque in front of the bench, it read, In memory of Clara and John Tippins. There was a bench similar to this at the playground behind this school … dedicated to Natalie. I never wanted Natalie to be simply a memory, forgotten. The bench at the playground, our pictures all around our house, the brick at Wrigley Field, the plaque at the children’s hospital where Natalie had volunteered when Sarah was at school. I wanted good reminders of her everywhere—not only for myself, but also for the girls. What I didn’t want was an entitled little brat reminding Sarah of what she’d lost.
“What happened?” I asked, my tone tense but not because I was upset with her.
Sarah cowered into herself, both hands wrapped around her stomach.
“Hey.” I angled myself to where she’d be forced to look up at me. Then, I smiled. “Whatever you did, whatever happened, just tell me the truth, and I won’t be angry. You know this.”
She released a breath and fisted her hands in front of her. “I was roughhousing with Kristen. We were chasing each other and playing on the monkey bars. My hair got stuck on Kristen’s uniform. We were fine and laughing and stuff, but when I got unstuck, my ponytail was messed up, and Jennifer …” Sarah’s voice lowered. “She’s just a bully, Dad. Just like Becky said.”
No surprise there, given I knew her parents a bit. The father was a trust-fund baby who had a lot of online businesses but was never consistent in one thing. The mother served on the PTA, strictly to control the outcome and votes of the meetings.
“What did she say exactly?”
Dark brown eyes identical to mine flicked up to me. “Just mean stuff. You know … the stuff insecure people say to put others down because they want to make themselves feel better.”
I laughed. Not ’cause it was funny. But because my girl was wise beyond her years.
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to let her talk to me like that, Dad. I’m not going to let her or anyone say things about Mom and use the fact that she’s not here against me, so I shoved her.” Her voice lowered to a tone where I almost didn’t hear her. “I don’t need someone to remind me that she isn’t here anymore because I remember every day, all by myself.” Her gaze dipped lower, and her bottom lip trembled. Her emotions poured out of her in waves, and I felt her immense sense of loss.
My chest concaved, and I reached for her, pulling her into my lap. “You’re the bravest kid I know, you know that?”
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice shaky. “I guess I’m not sorry for shoving her, but I’m sorry that you had to miss work for this.”
“Sarah …” I tipped her chin with my fingertips. “Do you think I’d rather be at work than here with you right now?” I lightly guided her off my lap and stood. “Don’t apologize for sticking up to a bully.” Because Sarah and Becky were right; in every sense of the word, Jennifer was a bully. “I’m going to talk to her and her parents.”
“Dad, you don’t have to,” Sarah whined.
“Oh, but I will. I’m just going to have a conversation with them.”
Sarah scrunched up her face. “A few choice words? You’re scary with your conversations.”
I fully intended to make my point known, but I wasn’t going to elaborate with Sarah any further. “It’ll be fine, but first things first. Let’s pick up Mary and Becky. Wouldn’t want to waste this school-work ditch day.”
The blinding smile on Sarah’s face lightened my insides. “School-work ditch day. We haven’t done this since Mom was alive.”
The pang hit me square in the chest. “I know. You should get in trouble more often.” I took her hand and led us to the car, all the while thinking, I wish I had taken more school-work ditch days when Natalie was alive.
Chapter 13
Becky
You’d think ice cream would have calmed me down. But it didn’t. Sarah’s sullen face when I’d walked into the principal’s office made me want to scoop her up, take her into the car, and have a few not-so-kind words with Jennifer O’Neal.
I didn’t even know the kid, but I already pictured her in my head. Entitled and bratty without a filter. Most likely, her parents got her whatever she wanted. You could be rich and get everything you wanted and still be brought up with the highest integrity. This girl had not been.
I chomped on my ice cream, knowing full well that I was going to get a brain freeze in a hot second.
“Chocolate and cookie dough!” Mary lifted her cone, waving it in the air like a sword. “My favorite.”
“Mary, watch your ice cream,” I warned. “You won’t be happy if that falls to the ground.”
Her eyes widened before she brought it down and licked at the dribbles slipping down the sides. “So yummy!”
I appreciated her enthusiasm, but it didn’t break me from my mood, especially since Sarah had been so quiet over the last thirty minutes. She was normally a quiet child, I’d noticed, more introverted, but I knew she was thinking about what had happened earlier.
Charles noticed, too, because he surprised her by sticking his spoon into her cone.
“Dad!” she protested, smiling.
“Well, you’re over there pouting, while your ice cream is melting everywhere.”
He wasn’t lying there.
Sarah licked the sides, cleaning up the chocolate dripping onto her fingertips.
Charles sighed. “What’s the matter, Sarah? I told you everything is going to be fine. If you’re worried about Jennifer bothering you tomorrow, it won’t happen. I’m expecting a call today, and I’ll make sure people are put in their places.”
And this was why I was really starting to adore Charles, even in the short period of time that I’d known him. His love and need for his kids to be safe and happy knew no bounds.
“I’m not scared of her, Dad.” Sarah’s tone turned incredulous.
“I didn’t say you were. I’m just wondering why you’re not enjoying your ice cream.” He turned to me then. “And you too. What’s up with the pout? I’m going to have to help you with yours soon too.”
I laughed because how could I not?
“Why can’t everyone just relax on
school-work ditch day?”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah sighed. “It’s just … when I think of Jennifer, I get so mad. Ugh!”
“Me too, Sarah. Me too.” I lifted my hand, and she slapped it in a high five.
Charles threw me a real mature look, but the aggravation I felt made me act petty.
“She doesn’t know how it feels to have your mom gone. So, for her to say that …” Sarah’s voice trailed off, and my stomach tightened.
I chomped more of my ice cream, thinking of how mean kids could be.
I’d experienced bullying at the highest level, kids making fun of my clothes because I couldn’t afford the latest trends, kids making fun of my druggie mom and her vices. Words did more damage than any physical punch could do. The group of girls who used to pick on me had uttered words to cut me down, only to build themselves up. As long as I had been the butt of their jokes, they’d remained the popular ones.
“She’s a jerk, okay? Plain and simple.” I leaned into the table, resting my elbows on the top “A bully will take every opportunity to try to take you down. Who knows why, but don’t let them. You have to think of the positives—that your mom was one hundred percent awesome and present in your life when she was here. You’re lucky, Sarah …” I said, taking a long moment to pause. I never liked sharing pieces of my past. Reliving my past kept me from moving on. But with Sarah, I felt a connection to her in this instant, so I allowed myself to share. “ ’Cause not everyone has a mom like you did. I’ll let you in on a little tidbit about me.” I leaned in closer, locking my eyes with her. “Your mother was more of a mother to you in the short time she was on this earth than my mom ever was. Just for the fact that she was present and here and loving you.”
Sarah visibly frowned. “Why? What happened to your mom?”
I didn’t want to trouble this sweet girl with my past. A lot of my history was incomprehensible—and too much emotional baggage for one child. I also didn’t want to reveal too much. Plus, no one needed to know about my messed-up history because if they did, people would dig into things I never wanted to discuss.
As I stared into Sarah’s eyes, I truly wanted her to know how lucky she was and to focus on the positives. The contrast of our mothers definitely showcased that, so I decided to share a little more of myself.
“Circumstances made her”—I didn’t know how to phrase my sentence without sounding bitter—“unavailable.” I almost coughed out a laugh. “She was always working.” Selling on the side was the real truth of it.
Sarah got up from her chair, surprising me, and when her arms wrapped around me, I stilled, aware of the flood of warmth in the center of my chest. “I’m sorry your mom wasn’t there for you. And you’re right; I’m not going to let what she said get me down.” Her arms tightened around me. “Thanks for sticking up for me today. It means a lot.”
Holy moly, wow. My free arm slowly wound around her back, bringing her closer. I tipped my chin, resting it on top of her head, taking in the scent of her apple shampoo.
From my periphery, I could see Charles was staring at us—this look of wonder, awe even.
My cheek pressed against the softness of her hair, and I let out a low breath. “I say, we go to her house and TP it or wear a scary mask and stalk her outside her window.” My tone was light, but crap, I meant every word.
The giggle that fell from Sarah’s lips lightened my insides.
“Before this conversation falls to the dark side, let’s go.” Charles tipped his chin toward the door. “We can head to the park or go home and watch a movie.”
“Or we can go to Jennifer O’Neal’s house,” Sarah piped up, wiggling out of my hands. Her eyes shone with an inner glow, a calm that hadn’t been there earlier, and I was glad that some of that ease had to do with me.
I stood first, ready to leave and move on from the Jennifer O’Neal debacle. Sarah followed, linking her arm through mine, and my heart damn near exploded.
We ended up at the park, Charles and me sitting on a bench, watching the girls on the swings. The light breeze and early fall sun warmed me all over. I didn’t remember going to the park much when I was younger. I remembered watching a lot of television, being home a lot, and learning how to use the microwave at a very young age.
So, watching the girls jump from the swing and run from the monkey bars to the slide to do their self-made obstacle course gave me joy.
Charles bumped his shoulder against mine, breaking me from my thoughts. “Hey.”
I smiled up at him. “Hey.”
“Have you ever nannied before for kids? I mean, you mentioned that you watched that older kid before Patty’s mom, but have you ever watched younger kids, or were you around them a lot?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
His eyes flickered back to the girls, and a light smile touched his lips. “You could have fooled me. You handled that so well back there. Well, at the ice cream place. At the school …” He glanced down and let out a low laugh. “You have a temper on you, Miss Becky.”
I couldn’t deny that. After you’d been pushed and shoved and pushed some more for so long, you eventually snapped.
Just reliving the day and seeing Sarah’s sullen face when I had walked into the principal’s office tore at my insides. “I’m used to people like Jennifer. I’ve encountered them all my life—when I was younger and”—I took a long pause—“even when I was older.” My eyes moved to the girls. “I remember feeling helpless and angry. Just seeing Sarah sitting there, feeling as though she was guilty for something other than sticking up for herself, made me so …” I searched the air, trying to look for a word that would describe my anger and agitation and frustration at the principal for not even reprimanding the other kid. I came up short. “Mad!”
He laughed again and placed his hand on my arm. “I’m jealous, quite honestly.”
“Of my anger management issues?”
Humor danced in his eyes. “No. Of your ability to just connect with Sarah that way.”
“What way?”
“In a way that Natalie connected with her, in a way that sometimes Mason can connect with her. What she’s missing is that motherly touch.” His eyes teetered back to the girls, the smile slipping from his face.
I smirked. “Are you saying Mason has that motherly touch?”
We both laughed, and I savored the deep sound of his voice, a real, honest-to-goodness laugh.
Charles kicked the mulch on the ground, his stare firmly planted on his children on the swings. “Natalie always had a way of digging under the surface. As you know, Sarah is an introverted kid. She analyzes things a lot. Sometimes, I try to talk to her when I know something is bothering her, but she clams up.” He rubbed one hand against his jaw. “I wish I could click with her in a way that you did today. Where she’d just open up to me.” He shifted and pulled out his phone from his suit pocket. “Look at this. You can’t say I’m not trying.” His finger swiped at the screen, and he opened up the Kindle reading app.
How to Be a Cool Dad.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. Not a full-on belly laugh, but a good chuckle.
“What?” he said, sheepish. “I’m trying.”
I grabbed his phone out of his hand. “Let me see this.” As I scrolled through the chapters, I saw there was everything from kid conversation starters to dad jokes. “Seriously?” My finger swiped at the screen as I read fast. “Let us see here.” Good gosh, some of these were bad. “Okay, how do you get a squirrel to like you?”
Charles’s eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t know.”
“Act like a nut.” I shook my head. That was bad, but it got worse. “Okay, next one. Why don’t eggs tell jokes?”
A laugh fell out of Charles’s mouth.
“They’d crack each other up.” I shook my head.
He reached for the phone, and he continued to scroll. “Did you hear the rumor about butter?”
“Oh gosh. No, what?”
“Well, I’m
going to spread it.” He shook his head, grimacing and laughing at the same time.
Now, I had a case of the giggles. As he continued with the most horrendous jokes, we both laughed so hard that the kids came over and wanted to join in the fun.
“I wanna play,” Mary said.
“What are you guys up to?” Sarah said, sitting by her father.
Charles angled his phone away from her. “I’ve got a great joke about construction …”
The girls’ eyes widened as they waited for the punch line that I knew would be bad.
He finished with, “But I’m working on it.”
The girls’ faces were blank, and Charles and I started cracking up.
“Is that supposed to be a joke, Dad?” Sarah tilted her head, thoroughly confused.
Charles nodded and lifted a finger. “I’ve got another one.” He pressed the screen on his phone. “If a child refuses to sleep during nap time, are they guilty of resisting a rest?”
Good Lawd this was horrid, but I couldn’t stop laughing.
Mary hopped on my lap, wrapping her arms around her center.
“Where’s the end of it?” Sarah asked.
Charles rubbed at his eyes. “That’s it. That’s the end of it. They’re guilty of resisting a rest. Get it?”
Sarah scrunched her nose. “Dad, you’re weird.”
“I can’t argue that,” he said, standing up and sobering a little. “Enough dad jokes. But don’t be surprised if I bust out with more later.”
Sarah jokingly rolled her eyes. “Please don’t, Daddy.”
Charles
After ice cream, I grabbed a pizza, and we headed back home to eat dinner and watch a movie. As I sat on the floor, my back against the couch, with Mary on my lap, I couldn’t help but savor the feeling of normalcy that I hadn’t had in years. Movie night.
When was the last time we had an honest-to-goodness movie night?
The marathon of princess movies just started, and there was no doubt in my mind that it would only end with the girls asleep on the floor and me carrying them up to their rooms.
Becky’s shoulder was against mine, as she was sandwiched between me and Sarah.
