Chapter 29 #2
“This is unbelievable!” Mrs. Spoiled Rich Bitch clipped, shooting to her feet. “That child is a menace! He shouldn’t be allowed in a public school. He should be carted off to one of those places for troubled kids. He’s a danger to all the other children here!”
I’d been as diplomatic as I possibly could during this sham of a meeting, but at the insults that woman had just hurled at Zach, I was officially done.
“Honey,” I said softly, barely containing my fury as I turned to Cord. “Do me a favor and take the boys outside for just a minute, would you?”
His eyes, which had been shining proudly, went soft as he murmured, “You got it, dollface.”
Zach instantly stood to follow him out, but the other boy, now looking nervous, stayed at his mother’s side as she sputtered incredulously. That was until Cord gave him a very unhappy look and prompted, “Let’s go.” Then he shot up and scurried out of the office.
Cord shot me a wink before closing the door behind them, and the minute it clicked into place, I spun back around on Principal Jefferies.
“What I have to say to you will be quick, so I suggest you don’t interrupt.
When I walk out of this room, I’ll be making some phone calls to very good friends of mine to voice my concerns about how you’re running this school and what I believe to be neglect of the children attending it.
One of those friends is someone I’ve had the privilege of growing up with and who hasn’t missed a single one of my family’s Christmas parties in decades.
She’s currently the superintendent of this district.
The others are five members of the schoolboard who I see every week when we meet up for book club.
I’m sure they’ll find your inability to return my phone calls regarding a student being physically assaulted just as upsetting as I do.
A student, it just so happens, who has only recently been removed from an extremely dangerous, abusive home and is currently finding himself on a new path that he’s still unsure of.
It’s unfortunate that you, as an adult and an educator, have rebuffed any attempt at making him feel welcome in your school and in doing so have broken what little trust he may have been building.
The fact that you would call me in to inform me of Zach’s suspension for fighting after seeing the bruises on his face and not even bother questioning why the fight occurred in the first place is, quite frankly, disturbing.
Your complete disregard for me and my child has proven that you aren’t fit for this position, and I’ll be making my feelings on that matter known. ”
With that, I was done with the pathetic excuse of a man and spun around to face Mrs. Niedermeyer.
“As for you, I just did you a courtesy, having your boy removed from the room before I said what I need to say, but that’s where my graciousness begins and ends.
You made a huge mistake, insulting my son like that.
You thought you could look down on me and my family because we don’t live how you live or flaunt the money we have.
Or maybe you thought you could because I only own a bar and your husband is the vice president of a bank.
That was your second mistake. In this town, money doesn’t mean a damn thing.
Knowledge and friendships do, both of which I have in abundance.
For example, I know your husband used to patronize my bar quite frequently to tie one on, which usually led to him getting sloppy drunk.
And when he gets drunk, he gets mean, which isn’t a stretch seeing as he’s mean when he’s sober too.
But it was that poor behavior as well as his unwelcome and unwanted advances on my waitstaff that have since had him banned.
But it’s behavior I know he hasn’t corrected, because he’s still doing it at the bars he hasn’t been kicked out of. .. yet.”
Her face went unnaturally white, but I wasn’t even close to done with her.
“Your husband’s bank is the biggest in the county because half the ranchers here hold their money there, along with most of the small business owners, and I know this as I’m a small business owner myself, and that’s where I hold my money.
What you failed to keep in mind during your ill-advised attack on my child was that this is a small town, and in small towns, people talk.
And as the owner of the local watering hole, who they talk to most is me.
And because of that, I have their ear and their trust. Which means if I were to leave here and, say, make calls to every small business owner I’m close with—which is every single shop lining the main drag in downtown—and fill them in on this lovely chat, they probably wouldn’t be happy.
Then I could make a stop at my father’s house—a man who owns the biggest ranch in three counties and is poker buddies with most of the other ranch owners in the same counties, all of who hold their money at your husband’s bank—and inform him of what went down.
I don’t think he’d take too kindly to the names being hurled at a child he’s come to think of as his grandson, and I would imagine he’d be calling all of his ranch buddies and lamenting his displeasure.
Now, what do you think the odds are of your husband keeping his job if all those people were to come in and pull their business so they could transfer it elsewhere? ”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she sputtered, “You… you can’t… you can’t do that!”
“Oh, I most certainly can. You see, that’s the wonderful thing about small towns.
We look out for each other. If you’re a nice person, these lovely people will go to bat for you in a heartbeat.
But if you spend your days staring down your nose at them just because you have a bigger house or fancier car, they aren’t so inclined to help out when the going gets rough and that fancy car and big house are suddenly stripped away.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never stared down my nose at anyone… until this very moment.”
“I… I don’t….” She trailed off, the realization finally dawning in her eyes that she wasn’t the big fish in the little pond she thought herself to be.
“Your son is a bully,” I stated. “He’s cruel and nasty, and I can only assume that’s a learned behavior from the short yet unfortunate time I’ve had to spend in your company, as well as knowing your husband’s less-than-sterling reputation.
The good news is there’s always time to change.
You can still teach him to be a good person.
You can teach him that he shouldn’t judge other people, and that kindness goes so much further than ugliness.
And I suggest you get on that now before he grows up to be an unhappy, miserable excuse of a man.
But if he ever”—I leaned in close to her—“ever says another unkind word to my son or touches a hair on his head, this meeting will have seemed like a trip to Disneyland compared to what I’ll rain down on you next. Is that understood?”
Unable to say a word, she gave me a short nod.
With that done, I stood tall and squared my shoulders before starting toward the door, but I stopped to give the principal one last look over my shoulder, declaring, “Zach will be coming home with me for the rest of the day, but he’ll be in class bright and early tomorrow morning, and I’ll expect he doesn’t have a single problem. ”
Then I pulled open the door and stormed out.