Chapter 5
five
LIAM
Maya thinks I don’t realize she’s following me. Pretty sure she’s walking on her tiptoes, like I’d only know she’s there if I could hear her steps. Poppy does that sometimes when she sneaks out of bed for a snack.
But the truth is that I’m happy she’s here. When it comes to Poppy, I never really know what I’m doing, if I’m being the right kind of parent. Having anyone along for the ride feels like a win, especially in a situation like this. Bullying is a territory I’ve never breached before.
A bully? Not my girl. There’s no way.
“Wow, this is a really nice school,” Maya says, looking all around us. Apparently, she’s given up on anonymity.
“May I help you?” We’re greeted by a woman who looks vaguely familiar and I’m pretty sure I should know her name. Becky, maybe?
“I’m Liam Harley, Poppy’s father. I was called to?—”
“Right this way.” I could swear she pursed her lips at me before she spoke. Am I in trouble now?
We make our way down the hall with Maya in step right beside me. She catches me by surprise when she gently squeezes my arm. “Just stay calm. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
The woman leads us to Poppy’s classroom. I guess I thought she’d be somewhere else. When she opens the door, I see my daughter sitting next to the teacher’s desk, arms folded over her chest, head down. But my attention is stolen when I spot the boy sitting on the other side of the room. The boy she bullied? His face is red, definitely a sign of tears. And his mom is next to him stroking his hair.
How the hell did she get here before us?
“Mr. Harley?” the teacher says, standing. “Thanks for coming down.”
“Yeah, umm, sure.” Maya and I both enter the room and to my utter shock, Poppy runs into Maya’s arms.
“Hey, Poppy,” Maya whispers, picking her up.
Poppy nuzzles into the woman, seeking comfort. She turns her head toward me and whispers, “Sorry, Daddy.”
“Please, take a seat.” The teacher gestures to us. “I don’t want anyone to get worked up here.” She can obviously read my face. “But we have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying at our school, and name-calling is unacceptable, so?—”
“Name-calling? Poppy doesn’t?—”
“Liam,” Maya interrupts, her voice the perfect level of calm. “Why don’t we start at the beginning. Can you tell us what happened?” The teacher starts to speak and Maya interrupts again. “I meant Poppy. Can you, sweetie?”
I’m in shock. Maya honestly shouldn’t be in this room, yet she’s immediately commanded everyone’s attention, taking complete control of the situation. It’s impressive, scary, and a little sexy if I’m being honest.
Poppy nods solemnly, still nuzzled into Maya and sitting on her lap.
“We were playing the monkey bars and Zachariah said I wasn’t allowed.”
“What did we say about not making exc?—”
“Can you please let the girl talk?” Maya cuts off the teacher again, sounding exasperated. I know I should be the one doing the talking. I should be the one defending her. Hell, my daughter should be on my lap. But it’s nice to have someone else on our team. It’s easy to see that my kid felt ganged up on before we arrived. Who knows what that boy’s mother may have said when she got here.
“Poppy,” Maya continues. “No one’s mad at you. We know you don’t have a mean bone in your little body.” She emphasizes her point by poking her legs, arms and ribcage, until Poppy starts to giggle. “We just want to know exactly what happened, so that we can understand it better. Okay?”
“Okay. Umm, he said I wasn’t allowed to because I’m not a real girl.” All the adults look at each other now. It’s clear the teacher didn’t bother getting the full story because she’s just as confused as we are.
“A real girl? What do you mean, angel?” I ask.
“He said I’m a robot because I live off machines. And that I could only play with them if I took off my insulin pod.” She’s clearly trying her best not to cry, which kills me, but I can see one tear slip from the corner of her eye.
I divert my gaze back to the teacher, then across the room to the boy—Zachariah, apparently—and his mom. “And I was called because my kid’s a bully?”
“I wasn’t trying to be mean, I promise. But I told him I couldn’t take it off or I might get really sick. And then he kept telling everyone I was a robot and they tried to grab my pod to see if I would turn off. But I know he wasn’t trying to be mean, he just didn’t understand. Because Daddy told me most kids wouldn’t understand how it works. So I just said he was being ignorant and that I could teach him about it, but then he started crying and told everyone I called him a bad word and they all got mad at me and said I was in trouble. I didn’t know it was a bad word, Daddy, I promise.”
Poppy’s tears are on full display as she buries her face into Maya’s chest. I can barely pick my jaw up from the floor. Maya, too, from the looks of it. We’re all stunned. Even the teacher’s speechless.
“Poppy,” I say, doing my very best to keep my voice from cracking. “I’ve never been prouder of you.” I stand up and encourage Maya to do the same.
“We’re leaving before I say anything in front of my daughter that I might regret.” I look pointedly at the teacher and then Zachariah’s mom. “But I’ll be calling the school later to discuss this further.”
I take Poppy out of Maya’s arms and squeeze her tight while hightailing it out of the school. It’s going to take everything out of me to bring her back tomorrow. In fact, I think she deserves a day off.
“What do you think about going to the animal sanctuary tomorrow instead of school?” Maybe I’m a shit parent, but right now all I care about is making my daughter smile.
“Really? Can I ride Cannoli?”
“I’ll have to ask Theo, but I bet he’ll make it happen for you, angel.”
We cross a couple streets before we’re back in the town square. All the leaves have started to change and the air is crisp but warm with sunshine. Maybe I’ll keep her out of school until winter comes, let her enjoy nature for a while.
“I’m really sorry, Dad. I didn’t know it was a bad word. I promise I won’t say it ever again.”
My heart drops. How do I explain this to her? I thought I did a good thing before she started school. I taught her that a lot of kids wouldn’t understand things the way she does, that everyone has different experiences, that she shouldn’t let it hurt her feelings if someone makes a comment out of ignorance. I taught my daughter the difference between malicious intent and stupidity, and somehow it backfired.
Words are trapped in my throat, not knowing what to say. And for the second time today, Maya saves me.
She crouches down in front of Poppy, her hand crunching a few fallen leaves. “Ignorant isn’t a bad word, sweetie. That boy just didn’t know it. Did your dad teach you what it means?”
“Yeah. He said sometimes people say mean things, but it’s only because they don’t know better.”
“That is exactly right,” Maya says. “And I bet no one else in your class has learned that word yet, which is, well, in this case…do you know what ironic means?”
Poppy shakes her head, but her eyes are wide. She’s been enamored with Maya since she first showed up in my diner.
“How about we press pause on the English lessons today.” I catch Maya’s eyes and she giggles.
Poppy pouts and Maya eyes me again. “How about if it’s not English?” she asks. I don’t really understand the question and just squint at her. She turns back to Poppy. “Do you want to learn one of my very favorite words? I bet no one else at school knows it.”
“Yes!” Then my daughter looks up at me. “Please, Daddy, can I learn it?”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Of course I want her to learn things.
“But you have to promise that if you use it, you’ll teach people what it means, so they understand it too, okay?” Maya urges. And damn, that would have been a good lesson to give her before everything transpired today.
“I promise.”
“Okay. It’s wabi-sabi. Can you say that? It’s Japanese.”
“Wabi-sabi,” Poppy parrots. Then says it again about ten more times. “That’s a fun word. What’s it mean?”
“It’s a philosophy,” Maya says with panache. “About finding the beauty in simple things, or imperfect things. Like this leaf.” She picks up a crimson maple leaf, slightly torn. “This is technically dead, and broken. But wabi-sabi teaches us to appreciate its imperfections, and how special this time of year is, when all the pretty colors of fall are only here for a short time.”
Poppy’s face twists in confusion, but also thoughtfulness. I don’t think they’re teaching philosophy to first-graders, but my daughter is still trying her best to internalize what Maya just said.
“It’s nice, right?” Maya continues. “To think about all the beauty around us, even when things aren’t perfect. And you already did that, Poppy. You called me a princess when I was not feeling or looking like one anymore.”
“I’m wabi-sabi?” Poppy asks.
“You practice wabi-sabi.”
This time, when I watch for Poppy’s expression, her eyes light up with pride. She may not have understood half of what Maya said, but it’s still a moment I’ll remember.
I thought Maya had some magic in her the first time we met. Now I know it wasn’t a fluke.
Once we’re back on Main Street I ask Poppy if she wants to come into the diner and get something to eat. “I can make you a milkshake. Or anything you want, angel. What do you think?”
“Okay, I guess.” She had seemed to perk up for a minute from the Japanese lesson, but now she’s sulking again. “Can Maya come?”
Maya whispers something but I can’t make it out. “What?”
This time she leans closer to me. Her voice is barely a whisper and I can feel her breath prickle against my skin. “Can I help? With Poppy. Would that be okay?”
You already have , I want to say. Maybe she thinks it’s overstepping, but I’ve never been that kind of person. When we first moved here, Ellie was always apologizing for Poppy being at their house, like I’d be upset about how much time they spent together. That’s not me. All I want is for Poppy to have the best life possible. I would never say a girl needs a mom. I’m proof that life can go on without one. But that doesn’t mean I’d ever deprive Poppy of mother figures, of support systems outside of our own.
I live by one rule now: anything for Poppy .
I nod, offering a tight smile.
“You go inside. I just need to make a quick call, okay?”
I pull my daughter away from Maya and bring her into the diner, and let my manager Belinda know we’re all okay. A minute later, Maya comes inside and takes a seat next to Poppy at the counter.
“Hey Pop-tart,” Maya says, grabbing both ends of the scarf around Poppy’s neck and tying them in a bow. “How would you feel about a little girls’ night? Er, afternoon, I guess?”
Poppy’s eyes gleam. “What’s that?”
“Well,” Maya says, a twinkle in her eye, “It’s when you come over to hang out with me and Ellie, and we have a dance party, and give each other manicures, and we talk about our feelings, and eat popcorn and put glitter on stuff until we’re all happy again.” She nods in a way that lets me know she’s very satisfied with that explanation.
“Daddy, can I?” Poppy pleads.
“Of course, angel.”
“Yay,” she exclaims, jumping off the stool. “I’m so excited I have to go pee. Thanks, Princess Maya.”
Poppy runs toward the restroom and I bubble over with laughter.
Maya turns to me and before I can thank her she beats me to it.
“Thanks, Liam.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re doing me the favor. She just went from sad to happy in ten seconds.”
“Well, I still want to thank you for trusting me. I know we just met and…I know I can be?—”
“ Maya .” I say her name like a plea. Tell me you remember. Tell me I’m not going crazy. Please. Tell me that night meant something to you. Our eyes meet and for a long moment I think about what to say. She seems so earnest, vulnerable even, and I remember that’s exactly how she was the night we met.
Honest to a fault.
Maybe she really isn’t lying.
Maybe I’m just that forgettable.
Hell, haven’t I learned that lesson before? To my mom and step-dad I barely exist anymore. To Poppy’s mom, I wasn’t even worth a phone call, just a scrap of paper to say goodbye.
So I keep everything I want to say caught in my throat. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming with me today. More than I can say.”
“Yeah, any time.” She grins and god, it feels just like that night. It feels like we could just linger here, leaning closer and closer until our bodies collide. What I would give to taste her again, to feel the heat of— “Oh!” she shouts, cutting off my traitorous thoughts. My daughter’s back in front of me and I didn’t even notice her. Maya gets up and places her hands on Poppy’s shoulders, a protective stance if I’ve ever seen one. Did she know where my mind just went? “I’ll be careful about how much sugar she eats, but is there anything I should know? Just in case Ellie isn’t around the whole time.”
I shake my head, try my best to get back to neutral. “I’m heading home soon so I’ll be next door. My phone will alert me if she has a spike, and her insulin pod should be working fine, we just changed it last night.” Well, “As long as some kid doesn’t rip it out of her,” I say under my breath.
Maya hears it anyway. She squeezes my arm and I know where my head is going to be the rest of the night. “She’ll be safe with me. I promise.”
“Come on , Princess Maya,” Poppy groans, tugging Maya’s sleeve. “Let’s do girls’ night!”