“Miss Bliss, how can I hel—” she started, her voice caught between customer service and condescension.
“You can help me,” I said, “by doing your job.” The words came out sharp, each syllable a little knife. “When a five year old tells you she needs to use the restroom, you let her go. You don’t ignore her, you don’t make her wait, so she has an accident.”
Her lips pressed thin, but she rallied. “We had just come in from?—”
“I don’t care if you just came back from the bathroom,” I cut in, louder than I meant. “That little girl wouldnevermake up an excuse about needing the bathroom unless she really needed it. And even if that was the case, then so what? She knows all her colors, numbers, alphabet, can write, read, and do double-digit addition and subtraction. She’s smarter than both of us, believe me, Mrs. McDonald, you’re not teaching heranything. She’s five. She’s a genius. She lost her mom, then her grandma, uprooted her whole life, then moved across the country with a man she just met who got hurt and is now being cared for by another person she just met. If she wants to spend all day walking back and forth to the bathroom, that isexactlywhat she’s going to do. Because this place, this classroom, this school, is supposed to be the one place where she feels safe.”
Mrs. McDonald’s eyes flicked to Andi. “I understand your concern, but school policy does require?—”
“Does school policy require you to send her to lunch, with wet pants, embarrassed, instead of letting her wait to clean up in private?”
“That’s not what happened?—”
“Yes, huh, that is what happened.” Joey raised her hand. Her voice was small but strong, the way it always was when she was telling the truth. “I put my jacket over her. We went to the bathroom so no one knew. I told you that, and you said she needed to be responsible.”
The room went quiet. Mrs. McDonald’s face went blotchy and red at the temples. “I was following protocol?—”
I raised my hand, the universal sign forenough. “And when she felt sick and asked to call home?”
“She was fine at lunch.” Mrs. McDonald defended her actions.
“Oh, is that how illness works now?” I asked. “If you’re fine at lunch, you’re medically incapable of getting sick later? You know you should really publish your findings because I’m not sure the medical community at large is aware of that. Seriously, it’s going to be groundbreaking stuff. Where did you get your medical license from?”
She bristled. “I am not a doctor, but?—”
“Exactly. You arenota doctor. Which is why, next time a child says they’re sick, you call the parent. I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled because she is running a fever, which is probably why she needed to use the restroom. Maybe you err on the side of compassion instead ofcuntvenience I mean convenience.”
She opened and closed her mouth, fishlike, before bristling. “If you have an issue, Miss Bliss, you’re welcome to take it up with the principal.”
“Oh, I plan to.” I smirked. “And maybe the school board, too.”
Her eyes widened. I could see the calculation happening, the delicate weighing of trouble versus hassle. “That’s not necessary.”
“I think it is,” I said, calm now, all my fury distilled down to a single, perfect point. “Because what you did today is the kind of thing a child remembers forever, and if you can’t see why that matters, you shouldn’t be teaching at all.”
Mrs. McDonald’s eyes shot down to the twins. “This is an inappropriate conversation to have in front of the children.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, “but you didn’t seem to mind embarrassing my little girl in front of the whole class.”
Andi had pressed herself to my side. I scooped her up, holding her tight, and motioned for Joey. “We’re leaving now. Andi won’t be in tomorrow because she’s running a fever. You can mark her absent now.”
“Miss Bliss!” Mrs. McDonald called after me, but I kept walking.
Andi snuggled into my shoulder, her entire body was hot. Joey walked beside me, holding onto my hand as I marched out of the school. On the way to the car, we saw Leo and Luke’s best friend Jeremiah still waiting outside by the pickup line. He was swinging his backpack around in a circle.
“Are you okay, Andi?” he asked when he saw Andi in my arms.
“She’s fine.”
“Hi, Miss Billie,” he waved.
“Hey Jer Bear, how are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
I’d gotten to know Jeremiah over the time Bailey and Cole had been together, and he was a really good kid. He took art lessons from Birdie and was pretty talented. He’d spent a ton of time with the twins because his parents had been going through a tough time, apparently. I’d met his mom Stacey once, but hadn’t met his dad.
“You waiting for your parents?” I asked.
