How Deep is Your Love?

by Kathryn Shay

  By the end of pranayama, Brie was in the zone and feeling better.

  By the end of the class, she’d put Vittorino, the accident and Dante and his pony in the back of her mind. She drove home in the same state and just pulled into her garage when her cell rang. She picked up as soon as she parked.

  “Brie, so sorry to bother you, but I need to talk to you before the day starts tomorrow.”

  “Madelyn,” she said to the principal who she’d become friends with, “you can call me at home anytime. What do you need?”

  “You’re getting a new student in your class. The guidance counselors and I chose you as his subject area teacher because we believe you’ll be the most sensitive to him.”

  “What are his issues?”

  “There’s no other way to say this than outright. His father is a registered sex offender.”

  Chapter 2

  “Hey, buddy, ready for a new year?”

  Dante gave his colleague Will a nod. “Yeah. I love my summers, but I’m happy about getting back into the swing.”

  Except today, he’d come with a heavy heart. Madelyn had called him last night to tell him a student who was the child of a sex offender had enrolled yesterday. He was to keep it under wraps until the faculty meeting.

  “You’re something else, man. I could have used another month off.”

  They discussed what they’d each done, the condition of his car, then Dante stood. “I gotta go get my mail.” He left the office, plagued by thoughts of the new student. Could any situation be worse for the boy? Sure, it would be hard for the staff, but that was secondary.

  Think about something fun. Gabriella. She’d committed to having coffee sometime today. Score one for the good guys. In the teacher’s lounge, he slid memos and envelopes out of his long skinny box, turned and bumped into somebody. Reflexively, he grabbed the person’s arm. “Sorry.”

  “My fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Gabriella looked at him with troubled eyes. “Can you talk for a few minutes?”

  She wanted to talk to him? He hoped it wasn’t to renege on their deal. He squeezed her arm and let go. “Sure.”

  As they found an isolated corner of the room, he noticed the beige skirt she wore with a sea-green blue knit top. They fit well. “Madelyn phoned me last night,” she said simply. “She told me you have the new student, Sammy Simpson, too. I feel so bad.”

  “Yeah, she called me, too. All his teachers I’d guess. She sounded concerned.”

  “That poor child. I’m preoccupied with his situation. We’re having a faculty meeting at the end of the day.” Brie bit her lip. “I’m sure the staff has to be told.”

  “They do. All thirty teachers and aides and staff need to pull through for him.”

  The ten-minute warning bell rang. “Thanks for talking to me. I feel a bit better.”

  “Good.” He raised his brows. “Now, which hours are you free?”

  A small smile. “At ten and two.” Teachers had a lunch and a planning period and sometimes a free period when the kids go to music or art. They were short breaks from the kids, but needed.

  “Let me check my schedule.” He rifled through his papers. Slid out one. Scanned it. Five age levels, each needed physical education twice a week. He, Will and a female PE teacher who traveled from the Middle School to Stanton Elementary for four of the classes would cover them. “I’m free at two today.”

  “Meet you back here, then?”

  “It’s fine if you want to get together in your room. Nobody would see us there.”

  “That’s precisely why I want to meet here. I should have done something about people alienating you last year.”

  “It wasn’t too bad.” Which wasn’t quite true. “I’m a big, tough guy after all.”

  “Well, what happened was not right. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

  “Then I accept the apology.”

  On their way to their respective rooms, Dante peered down at the woman next to him. It felt damned good to be with Gabriella Gentileschi. She was a bright spot in the day!

  * * *

  Twenty students filed into Brie’s room, jostling, razzing each other, talking about new sneakers and backpacks. They took seats. Brie didn’t start out with assigned seating, and she’d guessed they’d heard the news by fourth grade.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m Ms. Gentileschi. Some of you know my name, but some of you may not. It’s on the side white board written out for its pronunciation...”

  She gave them time to read Gen-till-s-ski.

  “So, welcome back to school.”

  Some moans.

  Some frowns.

  And some shy grins.

  “I’m going to make a chart based on where you want to sit today. I’d like everyone to stand, look around and pick a seat you’re not in at the moment. Please do this without talking.”

  There was mild chaos for a few moments, then they all found desks.

  She held up a sheet of paper. “I’m passing around this chart. Print your names in the appropriate boxes.” She pointed to where the first in each row should start. “As you do that, I’ll call roll aloud. Raise your hand to tell me who you are. Just so you know, if you don’t behave where you’ve located yourselves, I’ll move you.”

  She called their names, and focused on each student for a few seconds. Near the end of the roster she said, “Sam Simpson,” and he looked up. She wasn’t surprised to see he sat in the back with an empty seat in front and next to him. A little bigger than the average size fourth grader, his hair was a bit shaggy but the Nationals baseball T-shirt was crisp and clean. In short, he seemed like any other kid. She was glad for that.

  “On each desk is a lined sheet of paper. Put your name at the top and answer the questions on the middle of the whiteboard.”

  What is your favorite subject in school?

  What did you do this summer?

  What is one thing you’d like to do this year in class? That can include field trips.

  Strolling around while they worked, she tried to memorize names. They finished, and she lifted up a screen she’d covered one side of the whiteboard with. It revealed sets of three, and she asked them to join together in those groups. Not allowing them to choose their own this time was crucial so no one would be left out. They were shy at first, but eventually managed to move desks together. She asked them to share their answers with the two others, then they’d share with the whole class. Answers included:

  Gym class as favorite subject for five boys and four girls. She’d have to tell Dante.

  Several of them liked reading and writing.

  Swimming, traveling and birthday parties topped the list for activities this summer.

  Many put field trips to museums, the Capitol and one jokester piped up with “Raiders Stadium.”

  “Funny,” she glanced down, “Tim.”

  The exercise lasted until it was time to go to gym class. The ice had been broken, most of them seemed comfortable and she was, too. Dante appeared at her door, as he’d done last year. “I came to get my little buddies.”

  There were cheers among the students. He was very popular with them, if not the staff. That meant something.

  * * *

  Geez, she looks pretty today, Dante thought as Brie walked into the teacher’s lounge at two o’clock. When she located him, she gave him a genuine smile and crossed to his table.

  “Hi.” In the August sun beaming through the window, her hair seemed lighter, probably from the summer sun. Should he ask her about that?

  “Hi.” He stood. “I’ll get you coffee.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Let me.” She had an independent streak that he’d respect—later.

  “Great. Black.”

  After he retrieved the brew, she sipped and said, “What shall we talk about?”

  “Sam, first, then no more school stuff.”

  “He seemed interested in our activities. He never volunteered to share out loud, t
hough I read his responses. He likes baseball and basketball.”

  “Important to know. I did some quick exercises to see how limber the kids were, and he’s relatively fit. Truthfully, he seems like he’s trying to blend in.” Dante frowned, deep and meaningful. “Man, I wish I could help him.”

  “We will, I hope. So, what’s going on with your car?”

  “Lucia’s pounding out the dents today. I’m heading over after school to help assess internal damage. There shouldn’t be any,” he added quickly, “since you hit the trunk.”

  “I hope not. For your sake. Remember, I’m paying.”

  He guessed he had to let her. He’d want to do the same if their roles were reversed, and Lucia said he needed to listen more when women wanted to do things he didn’t think they should do.

  She cocked her head at him. “Dante, is Tris short for Beatrice and Lucy for Lucia? And of course your name. All from the Divine Comedy?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Were your parents fans of Mr. Alighieri?” The author of the famous epic poem.

  “Ha! Dad never read poetry. He was busy starting our business.”

  “Was?”

  “He died when I was in high school. It was one of the worst times in my life.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you. So your mom chose your names?”

  “Yeah, she’s a college prof of English.”

  “Their relationship sounds like a real opposites attract love story.”

  “It was. And they were love birds right up until the day he died. So, what’s your family like, other than being royal?”

  “Don’t you want to know about me being a princess?”

  “Nah. I can find that online.”

  “Did you?”

  “Nope. I want to get to know you myself.”

  “Mamá had children, but she managed to open progressive schools all over the country. Papá runs the government. He’s not a figurehead.”

  “Now that’s intimidating.”

  “It gets worse. I have six sisters.”

  “Seriously? I can hardly handle two. Do they live in...what’s the name of the island?”

  “Casarina. No, they’re all in the U.S. right now, but two plan to go back. We have a doctor, a cop, a teacher, a NICU nurse, a law student, and you met Lexy, the children’s author. The last is an artist.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yeah. We’re a bit overwhelming.”

  “Where are you in order?”

  “Third. You?”

  “The baby, I’m afraid.” He rolled his eyes. “No brothers.”

  “Were you close to your dad?”

  “Yep. I promised him before he died I’d work in the business and watch over the girls.”

  “Do they let you watch over them?”

  A duck of his head. “I think they tolerate it. Which sister are you closest to?”

  “That’s hard. Mariella is in D.C. and bought the house next door to me. She’s the law student. Really, I can’t answer that question.”

  “I couldn’t either. We’re all close. Too close and too into each other’s business.”

  Her quiet laughter wound its way into his heart. “Same here.”

  When the bell rang, Dante sighed. “That was fast.”

  “Yeah. Our coffee break flew by. I’m glad we didn’t talk about school.”

  They rose and walked out of the lounge. “So, what about tomorrow?” he asked. “Same time, same place?”

  She agreed.

  As they headed to the faculty meeting, Dante had a realization. He liked this woman. Huh. He didn’t expect that. He was only trying to ease her fear of him because it bugged him to have somebody afraid of him, and also, he wanted the other teachers to like him. Maybe they would now. Maybe liking her was just a bonus.

  * * *

  Madelyn Price was the perfect principal. Open and available to teachers, she still held the line when she needed to. Today, she wore a beige summer suit with a brown shell beneath the jacket. A chunky gold necklace completed the outfit. Her auburn hair was back in a knot. “Could I have everyone’s attention?”

  The staff of thirty quieted immediately. Brie had heard high school teachers were difficult to corral in faculty meetings, but luckily her colleagues were more respectful. “I hope your day went well. And thanks for letting me dip into your classes for a bit.” Madelyn had showed up for a few minutes in every classroom today.

  “We’ll dispense with the usual first-day information. I’ve sent you all an email containing those necessary facts. We’re going to talk about something else that you all need to know and treat sensitively.” She took in a breath. “The child of a registered sex offender enrolled in school late yesterday.”

  Mumbles around the room.

  “First, let me say this is to be held in the strictest confidence.”

  A second grade teacher who Brie knew was great with kids spoke up. Madelyn encouraged casual communication during these times together. “Students will find out anyway.”

  “I know. That’s where we come in.” She clicked on a remote and on the big screen next to her, she called up the PowerPoint presentation. “Read the facts yourselves.”

  There are over 600,000 registered sex offenders (RSO) in the United States.

  Many families ostracize the RSO, and allow no visits to their children. But some wives choose to live with the man.

  A music teacher raised his hand.

  “Yes, Ron?”

  “I know everybody’s going to think this is sexist. But why

  would a woman stay with a sexual molester?”

  “There are a myriad reasons. Mostly, the women say they still love the offender. From my quick research last night, experts think a big part of it is financial hardship. The RSO, or Registered Sex Offender, will probably lose his job and find it hard to get another of equal importance and pay.”

  A female teacher asked, “Is Sammy’s father living in the house?”

  “Yes. Now if you’ll turn your attention to the screen. The most significant thing to us today is how the child is treated by peers and teachers.”

  The child may feel embarrassed by his circumstances. This might cause him to retreat from contact and isolate himself. He may not respond in class, even when called on. Group work, which is a major part of most curricula, is difficult for him because many times no one wants to work with him.

  Teachers treat him differently, which adds to his embarrassment.

  “So, what do we do?” The question came from a teacher aide.

  “Let’s ask the counselor.”

  The school counselor stood. Amanda Summers was a bright young woman with lots of new ideas. Brie hoped to get someone like Amanda—and Maddie—to work in the school for at-risk kids Brie planned to start. “Most obvious is to stop any bullying we see.

  “Second, ahead of class, find kids to work with him without letting on why. If asked, say something like he’s new, he doesn’t know anybody.

  “Third, call on him like you would anyone else. If he refuses to answer, so be it.

  “I’m visiting all subject area classes next week,” Amanda went on, “so he’ll know he has the opportunity to talk to us.”

  Will, Dante’s fellow gym teacher, spoke up. “I don’t think we can stop kids’ reactions to him no matter what we do.”

  “Well,” Madelyn said as she took Amanda’s place, “we’re going to have to try.”

  The unknown was always hard for people, and Brie was no exception. She’d learned to deal with situations and then let them sit for a while. So as she went back to her room, she decided to think about something pleasant.

  Dante Federico came to mind. She never guessed she’d like being with him. But he had a quick wit, and love for his family colored his talk about them.

  And he wasn’t bad on the eyes. She particularly liked his hair—it was thick and dark and unruly. He wasn’t stunningly handsome like Ryder Reynolds, but his rugged features and Roman
nose were pleasing. Like all Phys Ed. teachers, he usually dressed in shorts and T-shirts or a sweat suit. But yesterday he wore tan chinos with a black shirt. Yummy.

  Well, she was cheered up now!

  * * *

  Federico’s Collison Shop had been established decades ago in Brightwood. The D.C. neighborhood was a diverse place composed of different races and ethnic backgrounds. There were plenty of families with children, couples without kids and older people in single dwellings, shared houses or apartments. Dante loved the spot where he’d grown up and lived in an apartment only a mile away from his sisters and not even that far from his mother. The business was close, too. He pulled into the parking lot, swerved around back, hopped out of his car and entered the garage through the rear entrance.

  There he found Lucy and Tris, dressed in green coveralls, staring at his baby, the Pony.

  “Hey, ladies.” He kissed each of their foreheads. “Wow, you made progress.”

  “We weren’t busy with appointments today,” Lucy told him.

  “Ah. So how far are we?”

  “Lucy pushed out the dents, but the metal cut the tires when she rammed into the back.”

  “New tires, I guess.” He’d put these on only a month ago.

  “The good news,” Tris stated, “is that we don’t think there’s anything wrong internally. We’ll realign the chassis, but we checked the undercarriage and it seems to be okay.”

  “That’s great.”

  After some chitchat, Dante said, “I’m gonna work on the books.” They were his responsibility in the business. He liked working with numbers, so he didn’t mind, but he also itched to get his hands dirty too, which his sisters welcomed. An hour later, he came back out. “What time are you two leaving?” he asked the girls.