15 Berry
Berry
As much as I’ve complained about my office feeling toxic recently, I’m relieved to be stepping through the door of Stillwell
Elementary Academy, ready to concentrate on anything other than Phil and whatever horrible secret he’s keeping from me. Even
if it means focusing on my coworker Neil’s constant undermining instead.
When I walk into the conference room for our staff meeting, Neil is already there in a shiny gray button-down that looks better
suited for a Manhattan nightclub than a suburban elementary school in June. His bald head is tipped toward Reggie Rafferty,
chair of the English language arts department, as they stand in quiet conversation. When they notice me, they immediately
stop talking. Neil looks me over from head to toe—and the expression on his face tells me he finds me wanting.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” I say, trying to ignore the awkward middle-school-cafeteria vibe. Before moving toward the coffee
machine, I drop my leather tote in the empty chair at the head of the large conference table. Neil makes a noise in the back
of his throat.
I turn back to him with my eyebrows raised. “Something the matter, Neil?”
“Nope.” He puts a smile on his face but doesn’t even try to make it look genuine. “Just don’t want to see you getting too
comfy in that spot.” He tips his chin in the direction of my chair. “I’m sure you heard they’re bringing in three new candidates
for interviews this week.”
I hadn’t heard, but I don’t want to show my cards.
“I’m certain whoever they choose will do a wonderful job.” I toss back a fake smile of my own.
Classes have already let out for summer, and this will be our last meeting before the faculty is officially on vacation too.
We’re introducing Neil’s new curriculum plan today so the teachers won’t be blindsided when they come back in August. Maybe
he thinks this means he should be sitting at the head of the table, but I know better than to concede. I learned long ago
that girls and women don’t get ahead by giving up their seats at the table. Other faculty members begin to arrive, and I’m
saved from having to make more conversation with Neil.
“Good morning, everyone,” I start after people have gotten themselves coffee and settled into their chairs.
“And thank you again for coming in on this gorgeous summer day.” I hate that I had to call a meeting right at the start of summer, but it’s the only way I can envision pulling off the massive changes Neil has been very aggressively suggesting.
Thank goodness we had some unused snow days, or I’d have a mutiny on my hands.
“I have updates on technology and professional development, and then we’ll hear from Neil about some big curriculum changes for the coming year.
We’re holding this meeting now so you’ll have enough time to look over everything and start thinking about how to implement the required changes come September. ”
There are some grumblings around the room, and I realize that Neil will now think I deliberately threw him under the bus by
making it clear he’s the reason we have to be here. But he is the reason, and that’s that.
“Let’s be clear that I’ve been asking for these changes since before the school year concluded,” he says.
“Right, and we waited until you had a concrete written plan to meet. But I trust everything is wonderfully explicit in your
materials now.”
He seems to see he’s losing this point. “Okay, well . . . thanks, Bernice.”
No matter how many times I ask him to call me Berry.
He stands and makes his way to the screen at the front of the room. “Hi, everybody. I know it might seem a little overwhelming
at first, but here’s what we’re thinking.”
“Neil, I haven’t ceded the floor yet.” I’m not letting this yahoo push me around. He looks conflicted for a moment, as if
he wants to make a snide comment, but then he glances at some of the others and heads back to his seat with a sheepish smile.
“Oops, sorry,” he says, looking around the room. “I guess I’m just excited to finally bring our curriculum out of the Dark
Ages.”
Instead of taking his bait, I turn back to my notes and move on to other topics.
It takes less than fifteen minutes for me to finish my spiel, take questions, and make even clearer that if not for Neil’s pushiness, our wonderful faculty could already be lounging in backyard hammocks or hanging out at Jones Beach.
Instead, Neil is back up at the smartboard.
As I listen to his nasal voice and watch the presentation on the screen beside him, I can’t deny that his plan sounds pretty
darn good. He’s taken an innovative, forward-thinking approach to updating the school’s curriculum, including fresh methodologies
that should increase student engagement. He’s also waxing poetic about the board’s enthusiasm for the new plan and the additional
resources that will be made available to the teachers. The longer I listen though, the more I start to worry his plans might
be too far-reaching or subject to pitfalls—but the board has already approved all of this, so if I argue, it will just look
like I’m being a poor adversary or like sour grapes about the recognition he’ll get.
When the meeting’s finally over, Stella follows me to my office.
“What are you thinking for lunch?” she asks. “Want me to order us Sweetgreen?”
“You go ahead. I brought something from home today,” I tell her, remembering the bagel and lox Phil picked up for me from
Strong Island Bagels, my favorite bagel shop. Ever since I told him I thought he was hiding something, he’s been bending over
backward to keep the peace with me. Forgive me if that only makes me more suspicious.
I’d never waste the chewy perfection of a Strong Island bagel, so I did bring it for lunch. But it’s going to take a lot more
than scallion cream cheese and fresh nova to convince me that everything’s fine between us.
I’m already heading back to my desk when my phone rings.
“Hollis?” I answer with concern. It’s unusual for Phil’s dad to call in the middle of a workday. “Is everything all right?”
I hear shuffling and muttering on the other end of the line.
“Hollis? Hello?” But then I realize he’s called me accidentally. All that rustling and whooshing coming through the speaker
tells me the phone is in his pocket or something. I chalk it up to a butt dial and am about to hang up when I very clearly
hear Hollis say, “No, Phillip, show me that one again.”
Phil didn’t mention anything about going to see his dad today. And they were just together a few days ago. As I listen a little
longer, trying unsuccessfully to gather more information, I tell myself that my husband would never intentionally hide a visit
with his father from me. He knows perfectly well that I’d be thrilled for them to finally have some heart-to-hearts instead
of keeping their emotions about Arlene’s passing locked away. It’s what I’ve been pushing for all along. I can’t, for the
life of me, imagine why they’d keep it secret.