Chapter 2 #4
Aaron met him at the entrance to the office. In his three-quarter-zip pullover, chinos, and lace-up brown dress shoes, Ethan barely recognized his former classmate. He wore his salt-and-pepper hair close-cropped, and fine lines crinkled at the corners of his blue eyes when he smiled.
“Ethan, it’s great to see you, my man.”
Ethan shook his outstretched hand. “Wish it was under different circumstances.”
“We’ll get this all worked out.” Aaron headed down a short corridor. “Come on into my office so we can chat for a minute.”
Oh, he did not like the sound of that. A young girl, probably six or seven years old, sat on a sofa across from the assistant’s desk. She kicked her heels against the furniture, and he guessed from the blotches on her cheeks that she’d been crying. She held a damp paper towel on her palm.
“I can’t believe you’re the principal,” Ethan said as he took one of the open seats across from Aaron’s mahogany desk.
“Yeah, sometimes I can’t believe it either.” He gestured to the framed diplomas on his wall. “It’s been a journey, but I’m glad to be here and grateful to give back to the community. I wouldn’t be who I am without the people in this town.”
“Same.” Ethan rubbed his palms on his jeans. “So, what happened?”
Aaron sat down in his leather chair. “I’ll bring Brody in in just a minute. He’s sitting in the other room with our school counselor. I had to keep the kids separated.”
Ethan swallowed hard. “Kids? How many were involved?”
“Just two. The little girl that you walked past—she and Brody got into it. I was going to ask you to bring me up to speed with what’s been going on at home, but I think I’ll let him tell you the story first. Hang on.”
Oh boy. Ethan dragged his hand across his face, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
Aaron stepped out of the office and then returned a couple minutes later with Brody in tow.
Brody flopped down in the chair beside Ethan and stared at the floor.
“Hey, buddy, what happened?”
“She started it, Dad.”
Huh. Interesting. Ethan shifted toward his son and draped a protective arm on the back of the straight-backed chair. “Start from the beginning, and tell me exactly what happened, please.”
“Daisy or Sadie or whatever her name is. I didn’t mean to call her the wrong name.
I didn’t know I’d said the wrong thing. But she got mad and she kicked me really hard, and you’ve always said to stand up for myself.
So I pushed her. Except she fell back and scraped her hand and started to cry, and then I was hosed. ”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean she kicked you?”
Brody pulled up the cuff of his black jeans, revealing a nasty, swollen bruise already turning red and purple on his shin.
Ethan sat up, flames licking at his insides. He gave Aaron a pointed look. “You need to call that little girl’s dad.”
“That’s going to be impossible seeing as how he’s no longer with us.” Tisha stood in the doorway of Aaron’s office, her hands clamped on a petite blonde girl who looked every bit as angry as Brody.
No. No way.
His mouth ran dry. Pie lady was her mom?
A few minutes ago, he’d been sitting at the café, thinking pie lady just might be a bright spot in a foggy, frustrating return to Redemption. She’d smiled. They’d chatted. She’d asked him to be a taste tester.
Meanwhile her daughter had kicked Brody in the shin.
“I haven’t seen your daughter’s hand, but I bet it’s nothing like that bruise on his leg. What’s she doing kicking people like that?”
She tipped her chin up. “What’s your son doing shoving little girls?”
“Okay, okay.” Aaron stood and held up both palms. “Folks, let’s take it down a notch. It sounds like there was a bit of a misunderstanding. Sadie, you go first. What would you like to say?”
“He didn’t call me the right name. I’m not named after a flower.” Sadie glared at Brody, then stomped her foot.
“Don’t stomp, sweetheart,” Tisha said softly. “That’s not polite.”
“Neither is kicking someone,” Ethan said.
Her frigid glare turned downright glacial. He refused to look away.
“I didn’t know,” Brody said, thrusting both hands in the air. “All you had to do was tell me, ‘Hey, my name’s Sadie.’ Simple as that.”
Ethan covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Brody’s pragmatic approach deserved a high five, but something told him he’d better keep a lid on his praise. For now.
“Everyone’s names are written in like three places in our classroom plus mine’s on my desk in huge letters,” Sadie said, spreading her hands wide.
Brody pressed his lips together and ducked his head.
The defeated posture planted a hollow ache in Ethan’s stomach. Was Brody ashamed?
Tisha shifted her attention to Aaron. “There has to be a way we can work this out.”
“I agree.” Aaron ran his finger across his laptop’s touch pad to wake it up. “We have instituted something here called restorative practices.”
Ethan laughed.
Aaron shot him a look. “Is there a problem?”
“Restorative practices? What does that mean? We used to empty trash cans. Or wipe down the whiteboards. What happened to writing sentences?”
“I don’t feel that extra chores will resolve the deeper issue here,” Tisha said.
He had no words. This couldn’t be the same woman who’d just low-key flirted with him until he agreed to taste her random pie. Could it? Where did that woman go?
When he didn’t respond, Tisha cleared her throat. “Mr. Price, Sadie and I are happy to be part of the solution.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Ethan scoffed. “Maybe you can bake us all more pie.”
She cut him a murderous look.
Okay, so maybe he could’ve kept that last part to himself.
Aaron turned away from his computer and rested his hands on top of his desk. “In case you’re not familiar, restorative practices means we bring both students and their guardians in for a series of meetings.”
Ethan groaned. “Seriously? And what are we going to talk about at these ‘meetings’?” He made air quotes with his fingertips.
A muscle in Aaron’s jaw twitched. “The intent is to foster teamwork, collaboration, problem-solving, and working through our big feelings.”
“Yeah, no, we’re out. Come on, bud.” Ethan gently tugged on Brody’s sweatshirt sleeve, then stood. He gritted his teeth to keep from saying anything he’d really regret later.
Aaron stood and rounded his desk. “Where are you going?”
“We’re not into that. At all. My son did nothing wrong.” He glared at Tisha. “Excuse us, please.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she and Sadie moved aside to let him walk by.
The administrative assistant frowned at him from behind her post at the front desk. “Sir, you can’t just leave with your child.”
“I can’t? Why not? He’s mine.” Ethan looked at Brody. “Do you have your stuff?”
Brody nodded, his eyes wide with disbelief. Then he hurried to the sofa and scooped up his backpack, probably from the same place where he’d flung it when they sent him to the office.
“Ethan, wait.” Aaron came out into the corridor. “We need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t.” Ethan guided Brody toward the exit. “I said all I need to say.”
“Good.” Brody slung his backpack onto his shoulders. “I didn’t want to be here anyway.”
Warning bells clanged in Ethan’s head. Was he doing the right thing? Together they walked out to the Suburban in silence. Maybe this wasn’t the best coping strategy, but he’d made the decision and now they had to own it. So much for helping his son fit in.
He got in the car and started the engine. Brody climbed in the passenger side, dropped his backpack at his feet, then slumped against the seat.
Ethan looked at him. “Want to talk about this?”
Brody shook his head. “I’m never going back there, and you can’t make me.”