One Small Thing (25 page)

“Well, I tried to call Dan, but he’s somewhere on the road. I left a message on his cell phone. But you know how his service is. I don’t know why he doesn’t change to FC and T. I told him about that—“

“Mom!”

“Oh, my. Well, I’m watching Sammy and Dakota today. He has the flu. Loren had to go on a field trip with Jaden’s class. Anyway, Daniel’s school called.”

Sitting back in her chair, Avery looked out through the glass at her assistant’s desk. If only she hadn’t told Joel he could leave early to pick up his sister at the airport. If he’d been here, she could have told him to tell Isabel she was busy. She wouldn’t have to listen to whatever was wrong with Daniel. That’s what every conversation about Daniel started with. When Dan came home from the IEP meeting at the school Avery hadn’t attended, there were pages and pages of recommendations and diagnoses. The psychologist had lists of ideas for Dan and Avery to follow up on: talk about Randi, visit the cemetery, show him pictures of Dan and Randi together, hug him, hold him, read to him, laugh with him. The doctor wanted him to eat more red meat and drink at least two full glasses of milk. Even Flora, the babysitter Dan had hired to watch him after school, left a good page-full of notes about what Daniel did or didn’t do:
Daniel didn’t finish his California history homework. Daniel didn’t clean his room after school. Daniel wanted to eat candy instead of fruit for snack.

“What now,” she said, sighing. “What did he do?”

“I guess he tried to run away. Or not run away. Hide. He tried to hide so he didn’t have to go back to school after lunch.”

Avery almost snorted and then held her breath, amazed that she could make such a sound. “Jesus. But why did they call you?”

Isabel was silent for a moment, and Avery understood. She was third on the emergency call list. Maybe not even third. Probably Val and Luis were next, but Luis was back at school and Val was visiting her mother in New Orleans.

“You’ve got to go down to the school right away. He’s in the principal’s office.”

“What about Flora? Did you try to get a hold of her? She could pick him up at the school early.”

“The principal wants to talk with a parent. Family. The babysitter can’t do that sort of thing.”

“Shit.” Avery didn’t have an excuse to stay in the office, the day’s important meeting over, Brody and Lanny working out the details with Dirland. Joel had taken care of phone calls and courier packages and FAX’s before he left. She could go. She had to go.

“Avery.”

“Fine. I’ll leave right now.

“And Avery?”

“What Mom?” she asked, pushing away from her desk and picking up her suit jacket.

“Be nice. Please be nice.”

She wanted to swear and slam down the phone, but that would only prove that what her mother just asked for was on target. She wasn’t nice. And it was true. She wasn’t. But she couldn’t let Isabel hear it in her own ear, so she breathed out and closed her eyes, searching for that quiet place she’d found earlier. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll be nice.”

Although she’d driven past the school once or twice every day since she and Dan had moved to Monte Veda, Avery had never been inside. From the street, it looked like most schools in the area, portions of the original buildings surrounded by newer, stuccoed construction, paid for by bond measures and parent activism. She’d heard the women in Dr. Browne’s office
oohing
and
ahhing
about the teachers, the staff, the secretary who knew all the kids by name. She’d given her contributions to the youth choir and the drama club and the “plant the school” campaign when parents and their children rang her doorbell, pamphlets and bumper stickers in their hands.

Back when she was trying for the baby, Avery thought that in five years, she’d be walking down the Dias Dorados Avenue with her child, holding in tears on the first day of school. Her child would have a backpack, a new outfit, and stiff, just out-of-the box shoes. She held the hand of her youngest child as well, telling her how next year, it would be her turn. “You’ll be the big girl then. So wave to brother! Say goodbye! Blow a kiss.”

Avery pulled the Land Rover into a parking lot next to a row of Rovers, Suburbans, and Volvos and jerked up on the parking brake. But no. This was how she would enter the school she’d fantasized about. Daniel. Daniel in trouble.

She got out of the car and walked to sidewalk, holding her hand over her eyes and looking for the office. The September sun was beating down afternoon heat into the pavement. Avery tugged at her blouse, feeling sweat trickle down her sternum.

“Avery, right?”

Avery turned and blinked against the brightness. “Yes?”

“It’s Marcia. Val’s friend? We’re in the baby group together. We met at her house.”

Nodding, Avery ran her tongue on her molars, trying to avoid biting the soft bleeding skin inside her cheek. The baby group. Every Wednesday, Val went to a meeting, sat on someone’s living room floor, talked about every change in Tomás’ eating and nursing schedule, sleeping pattern, and bowel movements. Avery tried to listen to the recap at first, but after a while, she’d go home from Val’s and feel lightheaded and sick. Finally, she’d avoided Val’s Wednesday afternoon calls, turning down the sound on the answering machine so she could erase it without ever hearing a thing.

“Yes. Hi. How are you,” Avery said, and then before Marcia could answer. “I’m looking for the office. Do you know where it is?”

“Right down the hall. To your right. See?” Marcia pointed to a door with a big “Office” sign above it.

“Gee,” Avery said. “Who would have known? Well, thanks.”

She smiled and turned to go, ignoring Marcia’s perplexed look and obvious question: What are
you
doing here?

Closing the door behind her, Avery walked up to a waist-high counter. Behind it, a woman sat at a desk, talking on the phone and behind her was an office with the name Ms. Anita Brisbo stenciled in gold ink. Below the shiny name was the word principal in black. The office glass door was opaque but even so, Avery could see Daniel’s smooth, brown head, the chair he sat in, his feet dangling over the floor. A quiet conversation seeped out under the door. At least he wasn’t hysterical, Avery thought. I can manage that until Flora or Dan gets home.

The woman put down the phone and smiled. “You must be Mrs. Tacconi. I’m so glad you could come in. Principal Brisbo is waiting for you.”

Avery nodded. The secretary who knew everything. Did she know Avery wanted to turn and leave without seeing Principal Brisbo? Did she know Avery couldn’t care less about Daniel and his woes? Did she know that Avery really wasn’t a nice person?

“Come this way,” the secretary said, lifting up part of the counter. “This is the draw bridge. Fear ye all who enter here!”

When Avery didn’t smile, the secretary patted her arm. “It’s a joke. You look as nervous as the kids. Listen, this isn’t a big deal. He’s not in real trouble.”

Avery walked through and waited by Principal Brisbo’s door as the secretary knocked and peeked her head in. “It’s Daniel’s stepmom.”

Stepmom? Avery almost turned to stare at the woman, taking in that word for the first time. How could she be that word or any word with mom in it in relation to Daniel? She felt so far away from him, it would take a plane, two ferries, and a bridge to reach her, not just a step.

A large woman with spiky blonde hair sat behind the desk and waved Avery in. “Thank you, Mrs. Panawek. Come in, Mrs. Tacconi.”

Smiling quickly at Mrs. Panawek, Avery moved into the office and looked at the top of Daniel’s head. He looked down at his shoes, avoiding her gaze. Avery winced as she bit down on her cheek, opening her mouth and sucking in a breath of air. She clutched her purse against her body.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Tacconi.” Principal Brisbo motioned to a chair opposite her desk. Avery nodded and sat, crossing her legs and then uncrossing them and tucking them under the chair. She hadn’t been in the principal’s office since—well, since never. Loren was rustled into the office a couple of times because of fights with friends and then the time in fifth grade when she cheated on the spelling test by writing the words on her shoe. But Mara and Avery were good girls who stayed out of trouble. “Little princesses,” her father would say at the dinner table as Loren glowered in her chair.

“What happened?” Avery asked, turning again to Daniel who was now swinging his legs back and forth, his chair legs making a soft, rub, rub noise on the linoleum tiles.

“I think it was a valiant attempt to avoid an in-class writing exercise. Daniel here managed to hide in the sandbox after recess. The yard duty supervisor found him just as she was leaving campus.”

“You hid in the sandbox?” She looked at Daniel and waited. He swung his legs faster, faster. If he were her kid, she’d tell him to knock it off, to pay attention, to apologize. She’d ask him why he was hiding. She’d ask him what was his problem with writing. She’d hire a tutor. She’d call her mom.

“It was pretty smart, I told Daniel.” Principal Brisbo folded her arms on her desk, her hands large and round, rings on each finger, even her thumbs. “But we need to find out what’s bothering him in class. I know the transition to a new school is difficult, and fifth grade is a hard year. What do you think, Daniel?”

“I don’t know.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “Daniel! Answer the Mrs.—is it Missus?”

“Call me Anita. In this room only, I let everyone call me Anita. A big perk when it comes to being sent here.” Anita smiled.

“Okay. Daniel. Tell Anita what’s wrong with the class.”

Daniel looked up at Anita and then glanced quickly at Avery. “I just want to go back home, that’s all.”

“So it isn’t the class?” Anita asked. She sat back in her chair and pulled on one of her many hoop earrings.

“No.” Daniel swung his legs.

“Well,” Avery said. “This is school time. You have to be in school when it’s in session. That’s all there is to it.” She stood up and adjusted her skirt. “Listen, Anita. I’ll have my husband come and talk with you. He can deal with this. Daniel should go back to class.”

“Oh, not today,” Anita said. “He should go home. That’s what this is all about.”

Avery stared at her, her hand on her hip. Glancing up at the clock, she saw that there were at least fifty more minutes to the school day. Why should he go home now, when in less than an hour Flora would be here to pick him up? That way, Avery could go back to work and see what Brody and Lanny had cooked up. She could find out when she was going back to St. Louis. She could call Mischa on his cell phone. “But . . .”

“He’s had a hard day. Go on, Daniel. Take your backpack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Daniel got up, grabbed his backpack, and slipped by Avery into the office, where Mrs. Panawek began telling him a story about a boy who played so long in the sand box he turned into a sand worm. Avery breathed out.

“Mrs. Tacconi?”

“Avery.”

“This hasn’t been easy, has it Avery? The transition into being a family.”

“No. No it hasn’t.”

“Are you all seeing anyone to—to smooth things out?” Anita stood up, revealing a pair of loose, rainbow colored pants.

“Who aren’t we seeing? We have two social workers and two psychologists, not to mention the calls from—“ she waved her hand around the office. “The school. The court. The doctor. If I have to see anyone else, I’ll lose my mind.”

“It must be rough. But, there’s a little boy at stake. He’s a good kid. He needs some help, sure. But in time. . . .”

Avery put her hand on the doorknob, the brass cool on her palm. She glanced at Anita’s desk and noticed that there weren’t any photos of children or a husband. Just some older people—parents?—by a house and one of a woman in a sailboat. So she didn’t have any kids of her own, Avery thought, and here she was trying to give her advice. Like a man trying to tell a woman about abortion. How could Anita begin to know what the past few weeks were like? How could she know what it felt like to see Daniel’s loss every single morning? How could she know what it was like to need to ignore it?

“Really,” Anita said. “There’s the cliché, but it’s true. Time—“

“I don’t know how long time will last. At least for me.”

Anita opened her mouth and then said nothing.

“Okay. Well, goodbye.” Avery pulled the door open and glanced back. The principal lifted her hands from the desk and raised her eyebrows in an expression that reminded Avery of one Brody would give her while on the phone with a caller who wasn’t interested in their product in the least. A look for lost causes.

Closing the door behind her, Avery walked into the outer office and watched Daniel laugh at Mrs. Panwek’s story. He seemed like a different child. Kind of normal. One who didn’t stare with big, bug eyes, tracking Avery’s movements. A kid who might play with Sammy, Jaden, and Dakota at the next Fourth of July barbeque in the cul-de-sac, running with a ball or rolling on the lawn. But then he seemed to sense her, his body freezing, his face falling into its typical sullen stare. As they left the office and walked together down the long, empty hallway, all Avery wanted to know was how she could get out of here, alone, and as far away as possible.