Her Two Dads (21 page)
Four years later
“Welcome
to Nichols Montessori School. I’m Mrs. Coates. I’ll be your teacher this year. What’s your name?”
Just outside the door—Sophie had insisted on going in by herself—Srikkanth bit his lip as he smothered his laughter. “Sophie Thanaa Bhattacharya-Frias,” the little girl declared proudly. “But you may call me Sophie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie,” Mrs. Coates said, her voice betraying her surprise at the child’s adult demeanor. “Did your mommy and daddy come with you to get you settled?”
“My mommy died when I was a baby,” Sophie said. “I live with my two dads. They’re outside. I wanted to meet you first.”
Unable to stop his laughter this time, Srikkanth took pity on the teacher and stepped into the classroom. “I’m Sophie’s father, Srikkanth Bhattacharya-Frias,” he said, holding out his hand. “One of them, anyway. As you can see, she’s a bit of a handful.”
Mrs. Coates laughed. “I have a classroom full of them, I assure you. Did your partner come with you?”
“My husband is in the office filling out the enrollment paperwork,” Srikkanth replied, intending to make very clear to Sophie’s teacher the way he and Jaime chose to describe their relationship. “He’ll be in shortly.”
Mrs. Coates nodded. “You needn’t worry Sophie will be teased or bullied. We get a lot of nontraditional families here. A lot of foreign adoptions, mixed families, a variety of races, et cetera.”
“Sophie isn’t adopted,” Srikkanth replied. “Well, Jaime adopted her after we got married, but she’s my daughter in every sense of the word.”
“As I said,” Mrs. Coates repeated, “a lot of nontraditional families. I’m sure Sophie will fit right in.”
Jaime came in just then, coming to Srikkanth’s side and slipping his arm around his husband’s waist. He offered his other hand to Sophie’s teacher. “Jaime Bhattacharya-Frias, Sophie’s father.”
“Nice to meet both of you,” Mrs. Coates said. “I’m sure it will be an exciting year for everyone.”
Jaime smiled at his daughter, already exploring the classroom with her usual intrepidness. “They all are.”
Ariel Tachna
lives in southwestern Ohio with her husband, her daughter and son, and their cat. A native of the region, she has nonetheless lived all over the world, having fallen in love with both France, where she found her career and her husband, and India, where she dreams of retiring some day. She started writing when she was twelve and hasn’t looked back since. A connoisseur of wine and horses, she’s as comfortable on a farm as she is in the big cities of the world.
Visit Ariel’s web site at http://www.arieltachna.com/ and her blog at
http://arieltachna.livejournal.com/
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