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I still can’t believe it, and every time I think about it, a stupid grin covers my face.
His hours aren’t the best. Our texts are scattered throughout the day, and our calls are usually late at night, although sometimes he calls during lunchtime or his training breaks.
I’m having my lunch in the break room when my phone rings. My heart jumps up into my throat thinking it’s Andrew, but when I look at the screen, my heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach instead.
It’s a call from Alissa’s school.
“Hello?” my voice shakes with concern.
“Hello, Miss Mitchell. I am Pamela Olson, therapist from your daughter’s school,” the very polite voice says.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, apprehensive.
“Alissa was a victim of bullying from some of her classmates, but she is not physically hurt. I would like to clarify some things with you. Would that be okay?”
“Of course,” I wrap up my lunch and take the leftovers to the garbage bin. “Through the phone or…?”
“In person,” Miss Olson confirms. “I think it might be best if you take Alissa home for the day too. She’s a bit distressed.”
“Okay.” My eyes grow wide, and my heart suspends in the air for a moment. All I want to do is dash out and hold my little sweet pea. “I’ll be right there.”
We say goodbye, and I immediately head out to talk to Dan.
“Ali’s school just called. Can you excuse me for a few hours?” I ask Dan, who just moves his eyes away from Helena. They were talking, but in my frenzy, I interrupted them without thinking.
“What happened?” He looks concerned. “Can I drive you there?”
“And leave the store just with the girls?” I raise an eyebrow. “This place will be on fire when we get back!”
“Hey!” Helena complains, and I touch her shoulder, absentmindedly smiling.
“Alright, you go,” Dan taps me in the shoulder. “Tell Ali I’ll see her at dinner.”
“Okay.” I rush out the door.
I parked a block away. That would be okay on any other day, except for today, because my baby is waiting for me, and I need to be there for her as soon as possible. Thank goodness I drive a small car that fits anywhere.
I reach the school in less than twenty-five minutes. It’s a small, private preschool that I can only afford with the help of my parents, and it’s been a wonderful place so far.
Miss Olson’s office is located in the quietest part of the school, a corner on the second floor far from any classrooms or windows facing the playground.
My sweet pea is there, having her sandwich, face stained with tears, and an expression of guilt.
Miss Olson greets me at the door. “Hello, Miss Mitchell. Please, let’s take a seat.”
Her office is decorated whimsically. Ali is sitting among a circle of wooden chairs around a rug mimicking a cobblestone path. Miss Olson and I join her in the circle.
I sit by my baby’s side, and she hugs me instantly.
“What happened Ali?” I ask her softly.
When she doesn’t say anything, Miss Olson gently urges her. “Why don’t you tell your mom everything from the beginning, Alissa?”
Alissa sighs sadly, takes one last bite of her sandwich, and then begins. “Miss Leonard asked us what our plans for the summer were, and I said I wanted to spend it with you and with Andrew. Then Freddie said that we were talking about our families, but then I said that Miss Leonard taught us about chosen families, and I can choose Andrew, right?”
She looks at me with big puppy eyes, and I can’t resist her. “Yes, sweet pea. You can. Now go on,” I say gently, encouraging her.
Alissa sighs again, and then her eyes move rapidly as if trying to remember where she left off in the conversation.
