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“Okay.” She headed to the car—a BMW SUV that was her designated vehicle while she stayed with us.
Slipping my hand through Sarah’s, I walked us toward my vehicle. Her eyes were downturned, her shoulders slouched. I decided to have this conversation now, not wanting to drag it out any longer.
“Hey,” I said, sitting down at the nearest bench.
In small script letters on a plaque in front of the bench, it read,In memory of Clara and John Tippins. There was a bench similar to this at the playground behind this school … dedicated to Natalie. I never wanted Natalie to be simply a memory, forgotten. The bench at the playground, our pictures all around our house, the brick at Wrigley Field, the plaque at the children’s hospital where Natalie had volunteered when Sarah was at school. I wanted good reminders of her everywhere—not only for myself, but also for the girls. What I didn’t want was an entitled little brat reminding Sarah of what she’d lost.
“What happened?” I asked, my tone tense but not because I was upset with her.
Sarah cowered into herself, both hands wrapped around her stomach.
“Hey.” I angled myself to where she’d be forced to look up at me. Then, I smiled. “Whatever you did, whatever happened, just tell me the truth, and I won’t be angry. You know this.”
She released a breath and fisted her hands in front of her. “I was roughhousing with Kristen. We were chasing each other and playing on the monkey bars. My hair got stuck on Kristen’s uniform. We were fine and laughing and stuff, but when I got unstuck, my ponytail was messed up, and Jennifer …” Sarah’s voice lowered. “She’s just a bully, Dad. Just like Becky said.”
No surprise there, given I knew her parents a bit. The father was a trust-fund baby who had a lot of online businesses but was never consistent in one thing. The mother served on the PTA, strictly to control the outcome and votes of the meetings.
“What did she say exactly?”
Dark brown eyes identical to mine flicked up to me. “Just mean stuff. You know … the stuff insecure people say to put others down because they want to make themselves feel better.”
I laughed. Not ’cause it was funny. But because my girl was wise beyond her years.
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to let her talk to me like that, Dad. I’m not going to let her or anyone say things about Mom and use the fact that she’s not here against me, so I shoved her.” Her voice lowered to a tone where I almost didn’t hear her. “I don’t need someone to remind me that she isn’t here anymore because I remember every day, all by myself.” Her gaze dipped lower, and her bottom lip trembled. Her emotions poured out of her in waves, and I felt her immense sense of loss.
My chest concaved, and I reached for her, pulling her into my lap. “You’re the bravest kid I know, you know that?”
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice shaky. “I guess I’m not sorry for shoving her, but I’m sorry that you had to miss work for this.”
“Sarah …” I tipped her chin with my fingertips. “Do you think I’d rather be at work than here with you right now?” I lightly guided her off my lap and stood. “Don’t apologize for sticking up to a bully.” Because Sarah and Becky were right; in every sense of the word, Jennifer was a bully. “I’m going to talk to her and her parents.”
“Dad, you don’t have to,” Sarah whined.
“Oh, but I will. I’m just going to have a conversation with them.”
Sarah scrunched up her face. “A few choice words? You’re scary with your conversations.”
I fully intended to make my point known, but I wasn’t going to elaborate with Sarah any further. “It’ll be fine, but first things first. Let’s pick up Mary and Becky. Wouldn’t want to waste this school-work ditch day.”
The blinding smile on Sarah’s face lightened my insides. “School-work ditch day. We haven’t done this since Mom was alive.”
The pang hit me square in the chest. “I know. You should get in trouble more often.” I took her hand and led us to the car, all the while thinking,I wish I had taken more school-work ditch days when Natalie was alive.
Chapter 13
Becky
You’d think ice cream would have calmed me down. But it didn’t. Sarah’s sullen face when I’d walked into the principal’s office made me want to scoop her up, take her into the car, and have a few not-so-kind words with Jennifer O’Neal.
I didn’t even know the kid, but I already pictured her in my head. Entitled and bratty without a filter. Most likely, her parents got her whatever she wanted. You could be rich and get everything you wanted and still be brought up with the highest integrity. This girl had not been.
I chomped on my ice cream, knowing full well that I was going to get a brain freeze in a hot second.
“Chocolate and cookie dough!” Mary lifted her cone, waving it in the air like a sword. “My favorite.”
“Mary, watch your ice cream,” I warned. “You won’t be happy if that falls to the ground.”
Her eyes widened before she brought it down and licked at the dribbles slipping down the sides. “So yummy!”
