by Teresa Trent
“Did you get into trouble?” Her big blue eyes told me she was one of the falsely imprisoned.
“Do not talk to somebody else’s child, Betsy. She is in a timeout, and that means no socializing either with children or parents. I would think you would know that by now.”
“Sorry, Warden,” I wanted to say.
“There was another biting incident here today, unfortunately. Your daughter’s behavior has now brushed off on the other children.”
“Sorry.”
“You should be. It’s like a disease, this biting. Once it starts, all the children start doing it. Bad behavior is a virus.”
“Where was Coco when this happened?”
“She was using the potty.” Thank goodness; saved by the bathroom. I had to wonder if Coco hadn’t been in the restroom if she would’ve been accused of this heinous crime.
“So, did you see the incident?”
“I was aware of it.”
“That’s not what I asked you. Did you see the incident?”
“I have a very reliable student who tells me when these things happen.” A snitch? Chickadee’s Learning Academy was becoming more and more like the state pen every day.
“Who is that?” I glanced around the room at the different children playing in academically designed centers. Who was it? Who was the mole?
“I couldn’t possibly divulge my sources to you, Betsy. I would hate to see repercussions falling on a four-year-old boy.”
Okay, her source was a boy.
“And you totally trust this kid. How do you know that kid isn’t the one doing the biting?”
“I think we’ve had quite enough of this conversation. You should just be thankful that Coco is not the one to blame today.”
“You know, you certainly have a lot of power in your position. It’s bad enough that you couldn’t wait out poor Daisy Atwood’s situation, but now you depend on a four-year-old snitch to tell you who’s biting? The word of a child?”
“The situation with Daisy Atwood is none of your business. If she had kept better tabs on her husband, she wouldn’t be in this mess today. The man was a terrible flirt.”
This was interesting. Aileen was single. “Did he ever flirt with you?”
“As a matter fact, he did. I, of course, was flattered because he is a few years younger than I am, but then, just like his daughter, he showed a short attention span.”
Which translated, might mean that she was angry that his flirtation suddenly stopped. Didn’t she understand her name didn’t end in the “e” sound so he couldn’t possibly follow through on his actions? Once again Wade Atwood was jumping on the testosterone bus. But, unfortunately, he threw Aileen under it. It was the first thing he’d done that I approved of.
“Were you upset about this?”
“Of course, not. I’m a woman of the world. It isn’t the first time a daddy has flirted with me.”
“Well, I better get Coco home. We have a full house tonight. Too bad you and Mr. Atwood never got together. I think you might be the only single woman he passed on in the state of Texas.”
“Who is that laying on our couch mom? Is she having her baby?” Zach asked an hour later. Zach and Tyler had come home from school ready to take their places on the sofa to complete a video game they had been playing but instead had found Wade Atwood’s third wife with her feet up.
“That’s Susie Atwood. She is not having the baby, but we didn’t think it was safe enough for her to drive two and half hours back home.
“I thought her name was Daisy,” Zach said.
“No, that’s Wade Atwood’s other wife.”
“I thought she couldn’t have a baby,” Tyler scratched his head.
“No, that’s Wade Atwood’s other, other wife.” Now both boys looked confused. “Let me explain: Wade Atwood married Emmie—that’s his first wife. Then he married Daisy—that’s his second wife, and they have a child. And then he married Susie, who is on our couch right now.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. He looked at his brother with a big smile. “Dude. Wade Atwood was married to three women at the same time.”
“Isn’t that against the law?” Zach asked.
I nodded. “It certainly is. It’s a big mess for these three women.”
“Keeping three women happy ...” Tyler’s eyes glazed, and a slight smile played on his lips as he started going into adolescent boy fantasy mode.
“Do you think she would mind if we played our game?” Zack wanted to be polite, but he really did want to play that game with his brother.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”
Susie Atwood was only a few years older than they were. She would probably enjoy watching them play. Maybe it would help to keep her mind off the storm brewing in her womb. There was a gentle knock at my front door. I recognized it immediately. Aunt Maggie preferred to knock instead of using the doorbell in fear of waking Coco from a nap.
“Hey there, sugar. I hear you have a visitor.” Maggie peered around the door, looking for Susie Atwood. Behind her was a sort of town welcoming committee including Ruby Green and Rocky my editor. Ruby was holding a large basket full of baby shower items. I ran my fingers through my hair. I was overdue for a cut, and from the look she was giving me, she knew it. She stepped forward, her lips slathered with a fresh coat of desert red lipstick.
“We thought we would bring a welcome basket for the little lady. We hear she’s in a family way. We picked up a few items for the baby.” Her smile was so sincere I would’ve bought it until she lowered her voice and peeked around the corner saying, “Can we come in now?”
“Yes.” They rushed past me, and I took hold of Rocky’s arm as he attempted to pull out his reporter pad. “Go easy on her. She just found out her husband is dead and that he had two other wives.”
“Were you there when it happened?”
“Yes, as well as his other two wives. She lives two and a half hours away in Blakely. We didn’t want her to risk the trip alone because she’s so close to delivery.”
“So, we’re up to three wives and two children. This guy was amazing. He’s sure to go down in the Pecan Bayou gossip Hall of Fame.”
We joined Ruby and Aunt Maggie in the den, now sitting across from Susie as she went through the gift basket that was no doubt hastily prepared.
“Susie, I’d like to introduce Rocky Whitson. He is the editor of the Pecan Bayou Gazette. I’m telling you this because everything you say may be printed against your will.”
“In the newspaper?” She looked like she was almost happy to be featured in our little paper. She was so young she could still be a pageant queen. I could immediately picture her with her hair done up, a tiara placed strategically in the middle, and a big white banner across her chest. Of course, I imagined it with her not being nine months pregnant.
“That’s right, Mrs. ... Atwood. Is there anything you would like to share with the people of Pecan Bayou?”
She blushed. “Like what, Mr. Whitson?”
“Like how it feels to be expecting a baby and finding out that your husband had two more wives.”
A shadow came over her face.
“Rocky! I told you to leave her alone.”
“Really, Rocky,” Ruby scolded. “Can’t you see this baby is about to pop? You don’t want to stress out the baby. I’m sure she would rather have her bundle of joy back at home with her family.”
“When are you due, dear?” Aunt Maggie asked.
“Oh, not for another week. We really don’t have anything to worry about. I could’ve driven back all by myself, but Betsy said I should stay. I guess she thinks babies come a week early sometimes.”
“She’s on to something there, sugar,” Ruby replied. Thank goodness somebody was on my side.
“So, you really had no idea that your husband had two more wives?” This time, the questioning was coming from my own son, Zach. I blamed it on the fact that he had spent so many days waiting for me at the Pecan Bayou Gazette. A
little bit of Rocky had rubbed off on him. He now worked on his own school paper. This was a fact that was not lost on Rocky. He smiled and honored Zach with an “attaboy” look.
“No. I’m afraid I was thinking about the baby. Wade was gone a lot, but I never would’ve imagined he was living two different lives beside the one that we shared. I guess my daddy was right about him.” A tear slid down her cheek, and both Aunt Maggie and Ruby scooted closer, putting their arms around her.
“Don’t you worry about that, darlin’. We all make mistakes when it comes to men. My first husband used to love to buy me lingerie, and then I realized he was buying it a size too big so he could wear it himself when I wasn’t at home.”
I gave Miss Ruby a look, and she immediately stopped telling her story. Zach and Tyler started giggling. Miss Ruby needed to come with a parental guidance rating sometimes.
“I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”
“You’ll be fine,” my aunt told her. “If ol’ Betsy can do it, you can do it.”
I wasn’t sure if I appreciated that vote of confidence. Still, Maggie was right. Susie would be all right, but she had a rough road in front of her.
“I saw your garden coming in. It looks good. I just don’t remember your plants being that high,” Ruby said, switching her attention to me, lightening the subject.
“I’ve been watering every day. It seems to make a big difference. Now if I can only keep my tomato plants upright. Something seems to be walking on them at night. I had one so trampled I’ve got it held up with bread ties and good thoughts. Luckily, the little plant seems to be strong enough to survive the beating it took.”
Susie sat up. “Are you giving them plant food? If you know what kind of plant food to use on the plants, they’ll shoot right up. You’re going to need to pull that vine over there too. It may not be a dandelion, but it’s a weed, too. Make sure you wear gloves for that one. Working at the garden store I’ve become kind of an expert on making gardens grow.”
Aunt Maggie’s eyes widened in delight. “You have? Say, would you mind walking out to the backyard? That is, if you feel well enough. Maybe you can give Betsy some helpful hints.”
“Sure. I’d love to. I just love my job at the garden store. No matter how much pressure I have at home for my parents, if I can get out there with the plants, I know I will be okay.”
“Then let’s go take a walk in the garden,” Ruby said as both she and Aunt Maggie helped Susie lumber off the couch.
Ten minutes later I had a legal pad filled with gardening tips. It was unbelievable the wealth of knowledge this young woman had inside what looked like a bubble gum brain. I had a thought.
“Rocky, are you still looking for someone to write a garden blog for the paper?”
He scratched his head. “Why yes, I am. I’ve tried several people, including Ruby here, but people just didn’t want to commit to writing a weekly column. It is a lot of work.”
I put both hands on Susie’s shoulders. “Listen, I write the Happy Hinter column for the newspaper. Do you think you might ever be interested in writing a happy gardener column?”
A light shone in her eyes. “Yes. I’ve never been to college or anything, but I did well in English. It would be easy for me to write a weekly column. Would I get paid for it?”
I could tell Rocky was about to say, “We’ll see,” but I stopped him. She had just become a single mom, and every income source was important. “Of course he will pay you. Isn’t that right, Rocky?”
Rocky grunted. “If it’s good enough.”
“Don’t worry. From the amount of information Susie just gave me, I’m sure it will be good enough.”
“I’m due to take six weeks off when the baby is born. Maybe I can take that time to write some columns for you.” She turned to me. “Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you.” If I put into practice some of the knowledge she had just shared with me, I might even have a chance at winning the gardening contest.
CHAPTER 14
I checked my email that night and was surprised to see one from Ms. Aileen at Chickadee’s. The subject heading was “Important Meeting About Biting.” What else could she tell me about Coco biting that I didn’t already know? Coco, as far as I knew, had completely stopped biting and the nasty practice had been picked up by another child. One thing about bad behavior in two-year-olds was that, whatever it was, they had to try it at least once. I opened the email.
Your presence is requested at a meeting tomorrow at 9 a.m. The biting issue at Chickadee’s has reached crisis level. Please put this on your calendar and arrive promptly.
Ms. Aileen
Her tone was unbelievable. Biting was rampant at Chickadee’s, and it was bad enough they had to have a parent meeting. I would be sure to be there and arrive promptly.
When I arrived the next morning, the tiny chairs were lined up in rows. Parents that filled them were scrunched up with elbows on their knees. I thought I was arriving promptly, but when I checked my watch it was right on nine o’clock. There was one chair left, and that was front and center. Nobody liked to sit close to the teacher, even after achieving drinking age. Miss Aileen bustled in, leaving a young teacher at the door. She looked back at her and dismissively waved her away to go and watch the children.
“Thank you all for arriving on time today.” She eyed me. “We know you’re all busy, but whenever we have a problem here at Chickadee’s, I think it’s good for us to all come together and solve it as a community.” Many of the parents around me nodded in agreement.
“The biting started with one child.” Aileen’s eyes zeroed in on me, and the rest of the audience members followed her gaze. I pulled up my collar uncomfortably. What were they going to do? Put a scarlet “B” on my forehead?
“After that, it seems many of the children imitated this little girl’s actions.” Again, she gestured toward me. I was getting disgusted with this woman and her attitude.
Aileen then took the focus off me and made a grand gesture to the entire group. “At this time, we have had biting incidents that originated from every child in the two-year-old classroom. It only takes one bad apple to screw up the rest of the harvest.”
Once again, I felt the other parents’ stares heating up my back. Enough already.
“Just what are you trying to say, Aileen? My daughter caused a scourge of bad behavior? What kind of proof do you have that my daughter was the patient zero biter?”
“Eyewitness testimony.”
I pulled myself up from the chair, not letting Ms. Aileen have physical superiority over me. The Bite-Out at Chickadee’s Corral had just begun.
“And just exactly who was this eyewitness?”
“Now, you know I must keep confidentiality.”
“Get serious. That only works on Law and Order. There is no confidentiality among two-year-olds.”
Ms. Aileen folded her arms stubbornly. Was I going to have to get the rubber hose out to get information out of her? To my surprise, I heard a chair scraped from behind me. It was Bubba Maclellan, the man who sold me my last set of tires stuttered.
“Miss, Miss Aileen? I would like to know who the eyewitness is too. Little Bubba has never bit anybody. Not until he came here.”
“And he learned it from somebody’s little girl,” Aileen added.
“So, who was it? Who’s the snitch?” I asked, feeling the unrest of the parents.
“I just don’t think ...”
Several more chairs scooted behind me. More parents were standing up for their children’s rights.
“Who?”
“Yeah, who is it?”
“It’s only fair, Aileen.”
Finally, Aileen shouted, “Fine. I’ll tell you. Everyone sit down.” She slammed her hands down through the air as if to do a room-wide Whac-a-mole on the parents. We all return to scrunching down in our hard plastic kiddie chairs.
“The witness was a child.”
A woman with a Houston Astros s
weatshirt stood up. “You mean to tell me that all of this justice that you’ve been wielding is because your snitch is a child? A kid?”
“This is a very reliable witness.”
“Who?”
“Yeah, who is it?” Someone in the crowd echoed.
“Felix.” She nodded to Felix’s mother, who was now turning pale. “I’m sorry, Minerva, but he has been a great help to me. It was when Felix was bitten that I realized that biting had become an epidemic at Chickadee’s. We all live by online reviews, and if a prospective parent found out that Chickadee’s had a behavior problem, I could go broke.”
That was the bottom line, wasn’t it? Miss Aileen was worried about the weekly tuition she loved getting from us tired, overworked parents. I spoke up. “Don’t you think it’s kind of funny that Felix was there at every single biting incident? How many of them were there in total? Five? Ten?”
“There have been twelve biting reports. More than we have ever had here at Chickadee’s.”
“Did you ever see a single biting incident yourself?” I asked.
“Never,” Ms. Aileen cleared her throat. “But the child involved was always right there next to the child that was bitten. It was simple logistics.”
Bubba, the tire guy, spoke up again. “But doesn’t that mean that Felix was there at the same time?”
“Ooh, yes, I suppose you could say that.” Miss Aileen said, disregarding Bubba’s observation. “In this last incident, Felix was the one who was bitten, and not once but several times.”
“Who bit him?”
“Everyone.”
“Do you mean every child in the two-year-old class took a chunk out of Felix?”
“It seems that is the case.”
Felix’s mother finally found her voice. “I would just like to know why there wasn’t a teacher who witnessed this?”
As I thought about the situation, an old Agatha Christie novel came to mind. Felix had just experienced murder on the Orient Express. Or maybe murder on the Chickadee Express. There wasn’t one biter, but many. Every kid in the room had it out for him. Ms. Aileen trusted him because he looked like a geeky little boy with big glasses. Why did people always assume kids like that had hearts of gold? Kids are kids. Glasses or not, they all have their moments. I stood up and relayed my theory. Most of the parents agreed with me. I went forward, turned around, and put my arm around Miss Aileen’s shoulder. She cringed, not happy having me on equal footing with her. “I think what we figured out today is that, for a biting incident to be in a report, it needs to be witnessed by the adults. Do we all agree?” There were nods from several of the parents around the room. I checked my watch. “Miss Aileen, I’ve got to be going. Can we close this meeting out?”
