“She’s here because she lives here, and this is her school district,” Terry said, her voice sounding calmer than she felt. Her insides were churning, and her legs twitched with angry energy. “She’s got every right to come here for her education. Same as your son.”
“She’s mentally retarded. That’s probably why she kissed my boy. She’s the one that ought to be suspended.”
“She kissed him because she likes him,” Terry said, “She’s different than the other kids, yes, slower to learn, but more self-assured than any of them. She knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to go for it. She kissed him and he shoved her away. Point made. So why did he decide to call her names? What did she do to him that was harmful?”
“She doesn’t have to do anything. She’s in his class. She’s disruptive and he got mad. That’s it.” Mr. Preston seemed satisfied. Terry wasn’t.
She turned her attention to Mr. Gillam. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
“Felicia was playing football with some of the other kids. The ball got away from them and ended up in front of Bryce and some of his friends. He picked it up, threw it a bit harder than necessary to Felicia, and used the ‘r’ word. His friends laughed when he did it. Mrs. Grey, who was standing a few meters away, saw the entire exchange.”
“What did Felicia do?”
Mr. Gillam gave her a small smile. “She took the ball and went back to playing. After recess, Mrs. Grey made Bryce apologize to her, but she refused to speak to them. She hasn’t said a word since.”
Terry nodded. “She does that when she’s upset. Just shuts down.”
“Because she’s mentally retarded,” Mr. Preston said.
Terry found it hard to remain in her seat. She wanted to slam her fist into his idiotic face. “My child has Down Syndrome. I would ask that you stop saying she’s mentally retarded. It’s derogatory, and I won’t sit here and let you get away with it.”
“Then leave,” he said. “I think that’s the best thing you can do. Take your kid and put her into another school.”
“What other school? One where she isn’t with children her own age? Where she doesn’t get the social experience of being around other people? Where she might not learn she’s part of society and not someone who needs to be shunted away? I want what’s best for my child, something I assume you want for yours as well. The very best thing for Felicia is for her to be here. To make friends, grow up with these kids, and enjoy her childhood.
“Kids with Down Syndrome don’t always need special treatment. Felicia’s lucky that she’s high functioning and able to go to public school. Trust me when I say if I thought this wasn’t best for her I wouldn’t have her enrolled here. But here she is. And your kid has to get used to it, and he has to learn he can’t go around using those kinds of words. To anyone. If you don’t stop him now, he’ll grow up and keep using those words, hurting people as he goes through life. What kind of man do you think he’ll grow up to be?”
Mr. Preston wouldn’t look at Terry. His wife, tears streaming down her face, said, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Alexander. I promise I’ll speak to him. We’ll sort this out. I promise.” To Mr. Gillam she said, “Is it okay if we take him home now? I think we should go.”
“I think that’s best,” Mr. Gillam said. “His suspension is for three days. We’ll speak again after he returns. Please let me know if you have any questions.”
Mr. Preston kept his mouth shut, shook Mr. Gillam’s hand, and followed his wife out of the office.
“I’m also sorry, Mrs. Alexander,” Mr. Gillam said. “If there’s anything we can do for Felicia, please let me know.”
His expression was sincere, and Terry accepted he meant what he said. She appreciated it. “Thanks. I think I need to go as well.”
Mr. Gillam stood to take her hand. “If she needs to take a day or so before coming back to school, that’s fine. Just let Mrs. Johnson know.”
“I will.” Terry left and stopped at the door to Sally’s office. “Do you think this was a one-off?” she asked Sally, who’d followed her. “Maybe Bryce getting back at her for kissing him? I’m having a hard time accepting an eight-year-old kid using that word.”
“So am I. I’ve never known Bryce to use bad words before so he must have heard it from someone older. I’m going to guess it was his father. I’m hopeful it won’t happen again.”
“Me, too.”
The ride home was quiet, as Terry expected. Felicia went right to her room and closed the door. Terry took a few minutes to put their coats away and send a text message to her mom, giving her a heads up about the trouble they’d had. She also needed a moment alone to process. It was the first time anyone said something like this to Felicia, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. How the hell could a kid be so cruel?
Then it hit her. To her knowledge, no one had ever used that word in front of Felicia. So how did she know what it meant? And she had to know, or she wouldn’t be upset.
Terry went to her room, knocked softly, and entered. As expected, Felicia was seated cross-legged on her bed, staring at a book without changing the page. Terry sat across from her, in the same position, and waited.
It didn’t take as long as she expected for Felicia to speak. “I’m retarded.”
“No, you’re not. You’re smart. It takes you longer to learn stuff sometimes, but that doesn’t mean anything. You’re smart, silly, beautiful, sweet, and so many more things I can’t list them all.”
“I’m retarded,” she said again, still staring at her book. “Bryce said so.”
“He did, but he was wrong.”
“Gramps is never wrong.”
“What?” Terry thought she misheard her. William wouldn’t use that word. Would he?
“Gramps said so. And it’s bad. He was yelling when he said it.”
Terry gently pulled Felicia onto her lap and cradled her against her chest. “He’s wrong. I promise you, he’s wrong. I love you, Felicia. No one has the right to call you that, and I’m going to make sure Gramps never says it again, okay?”
Felicia didn’t speak. Terry looked down and saw her tears. She gently wiped them away and held her close. She tamped down her anger—for now.
****
As soon as Shirley got home, Terry unloaded all the details of the incident at school, including the revelation that William used the ‘r’ word around Felicia. Her anger simmered most of the afternoon, and once Felicia was asleep, it reached boiling point.
“I tried to call him, but it went right to voicemail. If that bastard were to show up now, I’m pretty sure I’d slam my fist into his mouth. How could he do that to her?”
“Take a deep breath and calm down,” Shirley said. They were sitting in the kitchen, and it was all Terry could do to keep her voice from carrying to Felicia’s room.
“I’ve been trying, Mom, but it’s damn hard. It was bad enough I had to deal with that asshole Preston, but to find out William has called Felicia retarded? I don’t know where to even start.”
“How about something positive? It sounds like Mrs. Preston was genuinely sorry it happened. Maybe she’ll be able to get something done.”
“I doubt it.” Terry stood up from the kitchen table and prepared a fresh pot of coffee. “I mean, she was nice and all, but I have to wonder how successful she’d be at standing up to the caveman she’s married to. I’d bet money that’s where little Bryce heard the word. I hope she at least explains to him what it means.”
“I’m sure she’ll try.” Shirley was using her psychology voice, and it grated on Terry’s nerves a little. She was mad, and she really wanted to stay mad. Especially at William.
“I’m going to make sure Jackie knows Felicia heard William use that word. That’s got to count against him, right? Aside from the fact it’s unconscionable he did it, I can certainly use it to sway the mediator.”
“You can, of course.” Shirley accepted her coffee but didn’t make a move
to drink any. Terry steeled herself for what was next. “But you have to be careful what you’re saying right now. Don’t call William. Period. If he needs to know something, I’ll call him or we’ll get Jackie to tell his lawyer. That’s number one. Got it?”
“What’s number two?”
“You be careful what you say. I know you’re pissed at him, and you have a right to be, but he’s still Felicia’s grandfather and she loves him. Don’t let your anger paint him ugly for her. He may end up doing that on his own, but don’t you do it for him. She deserves to have her gramps, no matter how you feel about him. You have to be extra careful until the mediation is over and you’ve gotten their decision. You certainly don’t want William to find out you went off the rails about him within earshot of Felicia. Or that you did the same with the parent of another child at her school.” Shirley paused to sip her coffee, never taking her eyes off Terry. “Are you following me?”
Terry nodded. Of course she was following. Her mother always managed to make sense and get her to toss her anger away no matter how much she wanted to keep it. “You’re right.” She sank into a chair across from Shirley. “I’m over-the-top pissed off, and I’m sick about it. I know I can’t keep her from being hurt by other people’s careless words or actions, but I should be able to rely on her grandfather to do the same. Right?”
“Yes. You should. I’m sure Jennifer probably had words with him right after he said it. And if she’d had any inkling Felicia heard them, she’d have talked to you about it. She’s sensible and kind. Did Felicia say if she heard it from him any other time?”
“No, but I’m not sure if she would have told me. She was pretty upset after she figured out that was the same word she’d heard William use. She didn’t fully understand what it means, only that it wasn’t a nice word. I explained it to her as best I could.”
“What’d she say?”
“That she’s retarded, because, by definition, she is. I tried to make sure she understands no one has the right to use that word around her—ever. She cried herself to sleep. I was going to wake her for dinner, but she’s had a hard day and I’d rather see her resting. I kind of doubt she’ll want to eat anyway.”
“What about you? How are you doing?” Shirley was firmly in psychologist mode, and Terry sighed.
“I’m hurting for her. Mostly because there’s little I can do. I can rant and rail all I want, but in the end, people are going to be cruel to her. I’m scared she’s going to lose that beautiful trust she has in people. The piece of her that loves everyone.”
“She won’t, honey. Not as long as she has you to rely on.” Shirley got to her feet and urged Terry to stand and accept a big hug. “She’ll be fine. As long as she keeps talking to you, it’ll be all right. You can be her advocate and rant and rail whenever you feel the need to do it. It won’t always work, but as long as you try, that’s the important part. There will always be assholes.”
Terry guffawed at her mother’s language. “You sound funny when you cuss. It’s so rare to hear it.”
Shirley ran her fingers through Terry’s hair and held her face gently. “The words have more impact then. You good?”
“I am. Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Now sit down and let me fix dinner.”
“No way. You’ve had a hard day. I can tell by the slump in your shoulders.” Terry moved her to one side. “Take a seat. I’ll refresh your coffee, and you can tell me about your day while I fix food.”
“Who’s the psychologist now?”
“I am. I think I learned it by osmosis or something.” Terry laughed. “Or maybe it’s in my DNA, and if it is, consider yourself at fault.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” Terry turned to prepare dinner and hid the smile that finally crept across her face.
****
Sara shut her computer down, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. It’d been a helluva day, and she was so glad it was over. Actually, most of the week sucked. A headache worked its way up and threatened to be fully blown if she didn’t get out of there and find something to eat.
She put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and waved at Greg, who still sat in his office. She nearly ran out of the building, not wanting her workaholic boss to think of something for her to do at the last minute. The temperature was typical for March at minus nine centigrade. She briefly wondered if it were possible to freeze before she reached her house. It sure felt like it by the time she walked up her driveway.
A smile spread across her face when she saw Bren standing on the porch, hiding something behind her back. Her grin was huge, and when Sara got to her, Bren pulled her close and kissed her soundly. “Welcome home,” Bren whispered and produced a bouquet of yellow roses. “Yellow is for friendship.”
“That it is.” Sara inhaled the sweet scent. “Thank you. This is so sweet of you. Is there a lesbian anniversary I’m missing?”
“Not that I know of. Do lesbians have special anniversaries?” Bren followed Sara inside.
Sara placed the flowers on the table and removed her coat. “You’re such a kid. You’ve got lots to learn about how lesbians do things. I mean, there’s a ton of rules.”
“I had no idea.” Bren hung their coats up and leaned against the counter while Sara put the flowers in a white, tapered vase. “No one ever said there were rules.”
“Tch. I guess I’ll have to be your mentor.” Sara stole a quick kiss. “One rule is you shouldn’t bring out the U-Haul until at least the third date.”
“Got it. Third date.”
“Then you have to make sure you remember the calendar dates of all your firsts.”
“All of them?”
“Yep,” Sara said in her best business-like voice. “First time you meet, first kiss, first dance, first date, first time you have sex—everything.”
“Damn.” Bren took her phone out. “I’ve got this Calendar app I’ve never used. I think I better take notes.”
Sara laughed and put her hand over the phone. “This is only for the very serious relationships, dear. You only make note of these things when you find Ms. Right.”
Bren’s gaze locked with hers, and Sara felt a tightness in her chest. Bren’s eyes telegraphed her thoughts. Sara’s smile faded. “Oh, Bren, don’t.”
“Too late.”
“No.” Sara covered Bren’s hand with her own. “You’re going to get hurt. I don’t think—”
“Don’t think. Please. Sara, I can’t help what I’m feeling for you.”
“But we’re supposed to be friend dating. Remember?”
Bren shrugged and found something interesting on the floor to stare at. “I know you don’t feel the same about me, and that’s okay. Honestly. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Don’t ever do that, Bren. You’re better than that. You deserve better than what I can give you. I’m serious.” She touched Bren’s chin, but she refused to look up. “Please. This isn’t right. I can’t do this to you.”
“You’re not doing anything to me. You’re being you, and that’s what I love. I want to be with you for as long as I can.” Bren pushed away from the counter and took a few steps toward the door. “I’ll leave if that’s what you want, but you have to know I’m okay with our arrangement. It’s the most important thing in my life right now.”
Sara hugged her from behind and rested her chin on Bren’s shoulder. “Don’t go. Not until we’ve talked this through. Please. Come sit with me on the settee.” She took Bren’s hand and led her to the living room. They sat together, but Sara felt the awkwardness grow between them. “You’re a catch, Bren. Any other woman would fall for you in a second.”
“But not you.”
“No, not me. I’m still struggling with my feelings for Terry. I thought going out with you would help me figure things out, and I guess it did. I know I’m not over Terry, and until I am, I can’t try going out with anyone else. I’d just be substituting that
woman for Terry, and it isn’t fair to her—you—or me. I’m sorry I can’t be who you need me to be.”
“It’s okay. I told you I understand about being the rebound girl.” She finally looked at Sara with unshed tears in her eyes. “You’ve been sweet and kind and so much fun to be around that I sometimes think it’s all a dream.” She glanced at her hands, knotted together in her lap. “Maybe it is.”
“It’s not. It’s all very real. I promise you. And what you feel is just as real. I’m sorry I can’t return those feelings. I’m serious when I say you deserve someone better.”
“I don’t want anyone better.” Bren brushed her fingertips along Sara’s cheek. “I want you.”
Sara captured her hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry.”
“Is this us breaking up?” Bren’s voice wavered as she spoke. “It feels like it is.”
Sara thought carefully about that. Was she breaking up with Bren? They’d had such a great time together, but was it really fair to this young woman to be dragged along indefinitely? It sounded so crass and mean and not at all like Sara that she knew right then what she had to do. “Yeah, I think we are.”
“But we’re still friends?”
“Of course. You couldn’t get rid of me, in that sense, if you tried. And I hope you don’t try, because I genuinely like you, Bren.”
Bren nodded and was very quiet for the longest time. Sara continued to hold her hand, gently rubbing it with her thumb. She watched a myriad of emotions play across Bren’s face before she eventually gave her a sad smile. “I love you, Sara.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
“What do I do now? What do we do now?”
“We are going to have pizza delivered, pop in a stupidly funny movie, and enjoy the evening together. You order the pizza, and I’ll get a couple of beers from the fridge. Deal?”
Bren leaned closer and kissed Sara tenderly. Sara felt the goodbye in her touch. “Sure. Pizza, beer, and a movie. Sounds fun.”
Sara playfully mussed her hair and got up. “It will be. You and me are good for each other that way. You’ve been nursing my broken heart for a while now. Time I returned the favor.”
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