32 Berry
Berry
A knock against the open door of my office startles me.
I look up from the budget report to find Stella in the doorway with a worried expression on her face.
“Mr. Tomashefsky is here to see you.” Her tone tells me he’s standing close enough to hear my response, so I don’t let on
that his arrival feels like a blow to the ribs. Generally, Piotr Tomashefsky visits us in person only when he has bad news
to deliver, which I assume means the board has heard about the many issues with the curriculum, and consequences will be forthcoming.
“Send him on in.” I force brightness into my voice.
“Berry!” Piotr says with a hint of an Eastern European accent as he walks into the office, his arms held out to the sides
as if this is the meeting we’ve all been waiting for. His six-foot-five frame makes the room feel suddenly claustrophobic.
I stand to greet him, shake his hand, and then shimmy one of the chairs opposite my desk into better position.
“Please, sit.” I motion to the upholstered chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask while reminding myself to breathe.
Piotr opens the button of his suit jacket and makes himself comfortable, his long legs folding neatly in front of him.
“I heard about the situation with Neil.”
Well, at least we’re not hiding the ball.
“There was a lot of good in the plan he proposed,” I start, wondering how I can sugarcoat the fact that I allowed our curriculum
coordinator to implement school-wide changes that were full of flaws. I’d hoped the solutions we put in place to address the
deficiencies would be sufficient, but clearly, if Piotr is here to discuss it, I haven’t done enough.
Piotr holds up a hand as if he doesn’t want to hear it.
“No need to protect Neil,” he says. “Rumson’s plan was a Trojan horse, featuring all the right buzzwords, twenty-first-century
skills, data-driven experiential learning, enough to get him all the recognition he was seeking. He had to know the problems
wouldn’t start coming out until school was well underway, and I assume he expected you to take the fall. But instead, you
stepped in quickly and decisively to rectify the situation. Thank heavens you were here to right the ship. The school board
took notice.”
I’m stunned by his words. I’ve been feeling so guilty for allowing Neil’s faulty curriculum plan to disrupt our program of
study, even briefly.
“I never should have allowed him to send that plan to the board.”
“Nonsense.” Piotr waves a hand in the air. “The way the framework was written was intentionally deceitful, and six other educators
sitting on the school board have assured me they were fooled as well. It was simply a bid for promotion with little concern
for the well-being of our students. Hardly the type of character we’d want as our principal.”
“No, I suppose not,” I answer, wondering how the board found out so much about what happened. “So now you’ll have to find other candidates to add to your search?”
“On the contrary, this incident has ended the search.”
My heart deflates at the lost opportunity, and I consider what a good thing it is that I’ve kept in touch with so many of
my old tutoring clients.
I try not to let the disappointment show on my face as Piotr continues. “We’d already narrowed the pool to two candidates,
and Neil has disqualified himself. If you’re still willing, I’m hoping you’ll accept the principal position on a full-time,
permanent basis.”
“Oh!” My hand flies to my chest. “Well, of course I’m still interested. Forgive me, Piotr, I did not see the meeting going
this way.” This is a far cry from getting sacked. My emotions careen from relief to excitement to pure joy. Then, as usual,
they veer to Leo. With all the upheaval he’s experienced this summer, maybe it’s not the time. But when will it ever be time?
When will life cease getting in my way? When I think of everything we’ve been through recently, and in all the years leading
up to today, suddenly I don’t see the trials and tribulations only as hardships. I can now see the ways they’ve led to profound
growth, making us stronger, more resilient, and ready for whatever comes next. I’ve wanted this job so fiercely, for so long,
and I know in my core that I’m ready for the added responsibilities.
“Yes, yes, of course I want it. I accept! Thank you, Piotr!”
After he leaves, Stella bursts into my office.
“Ohmygod, Berry!” She squeals like an excited teenager coming in for a hug, and I love her for it.
I smile sheepishly. I can’t wait to tell Phil and Leo, and I already know what they’ll say. That I made the right choice, that they’ll be fine without me around as much, that they don’t need me as much as I think they do.
Halfway through dinner that night, I hear the front door open, and then Harrison is bounding into the kitchen.
“I heard the good news!” he says.
He’s dressed in his work clothes: khakis and a lavender button-down, sleeves rolled as usual. It’s sweet he came here straight
from work, but still, I look accusingly from Leo to Phil, trying to figure out who snitched.
“Dad texted me. And before you say you can’t take the job because you have too many other responsibilities, I’m here to help
you see why that’s not true.”
“You don’t have to give a whole PowerPoint. I already said yes.”
“You did?” Harrison sounds so surprised that I almost cringe. I hate that he doesn’t have faith in me to do anything other
than worry.
“How am I supposed to convince you to start that restaurant you’ve been dreaming of if I won’t follow dreams of my own?”
“Leo has convinced you he’ll survive without you at his beck and call?”
Before I can answer, Leo tells Harrison, “You shouldn’t say ‘beck and call’ because it might confuse people who call you Beck.
Beck is at your beck and call. What is a beck anyway? We should look that up.” He starts pulling his phone from his pocket,
and Phil and I say nearly in unison, “Not at the table.”
After shoving the phone away, he tells Harrison, “Mom can stay at work as long as she wants. I’m going to be busy too. Starting
Monday.”
“Something heating up at the Y?” Harrison asks.
“The Y is the same temperature it’s always been,” Leo answers, and Harrison has to correct himself.
“What I meant by that expression was to ask whether there’s something new and exciting happening at the Y that’s going to
take up a lot of your time.”
“Oh, so ‘heating up’ is a metaphor for something new and exciting.” Leo processes this information, and from the way he nods,
he seems to be tucking the information into a file folder to remember. Then he says, “What’s heating up is that I got a job
as a teaching assistant.”
Harrison glances at me and then back to Leo. “More swimming?” he asks, a note of caution in his voice.
“No, I’m working at STEM Wunderkinds. Wunderkind is a German word that means wonder child, but people use it to describe kids who are very smart or who do something very
impressive.”
“Oh, so you’re a wunderkind?” Harrison’s lip ticks up as he teases his brother.
Leo thinks this is very funny and starts bouncing slightly the way he does when he laughs. “Ha, no, I’m not a wunderkind.
I’m helping to teach the wunderkinds!”
“That’s great, man,” Harrison says in the easy way he has with Leo. “I’m so glad, but just wondering, what changed your mind
about going to a new class?” Harrison had been leading the charge trying to get Leo to join a new activity. I hope he’s not
hurt he wasn’t the one who ultimately convinced his younger brother to put himself out there again.
Leo’s eyes shoot to me, and for a moment, I think he’s picking up on Harrison’s bruised feelings, looking to me for assistance, but I know the nuance of the situation is too subtle for him to note.
It’s something else, almost as if he doesn’t want me to know why he decided to join the robotics class.
“I want to be a teacher one day, so I have to keep practicing,” Leo tells Harrison. “And Mom gave me permission to use rideshares,
so I can go by myself.”
Harrison raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed by these new developments.
“They’re going to pay him too,” Phil adds, reaching across the table for the bowl of rice and scooping out another helping.
“I still don’t know what convinced you, babe, but I’m so glad you made this choice,” I tell Leo. His new job means he’ll have
more to occupy him while I’m busy at work, and also, it’s evidence that my sweet son is really getting ready to put himself
out into the world. It would seem to many people like such a small thing, the decision to take a part-time job, to earn some
money and build a résumé, but it’s so much bigger.
Harrison pulls out the empty chair at the table, drops into the seat, and says to Leo, “I’m glad you’re doing something that’ll
help you achieve your dreams.” He looks pointedly at me. “It’s good to listen to people when they try to convince you to do
something that’s actually good for you, right?”
And then I see it again, a look on Leo’s face almost like panic. His eyes dart back toward mine again, and he says, “Once
you’re old enough to make your own decisions, you should do what makes you happy.”
He’s parroting my own words back to me, but listening to them now, I feel as if someone has just touched an ice cube to the
back of my neck. Just what is Leo trying to justify?