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“Sweetie.” I take a seat on the bed next to her, trying to figure out what to say to her. I don’t even know what to say to comfort myself about losing her. I haven’t even accepted the fact that I have lost her. “Sometimes men and women, even if they love each other very much, can’t make things work.” She looks up at me like she has no idea what I’m saying. “Shit, okay,” I mutter to myself as I try to think how to reword it.
“I don’t like my new teacher.”
“What? What do you mean new teacher? What happened to Miss Flowers?”
“She’s gone,” she says, her lip starting to quiver again.
“Sweetie. Daisy, look at me.” I stand up. “Miss Flowers isn’t your teacher anymore or is she just gone for a few days and is coming back?”
“I dunno. Mr. Fein said Miss Flowers is gone and we have a new teacher, Miss Pickler.”
“A new teacher?”
“That’s what I’m saying!” she says, completely exasperated. Now I get why she’s crying and throwing a tantrum.
“How long has she been gone?”
She shrugs. “A long time.”
“Okay, Daisy, listen to me.” I realize I’m not going to get the answers I need from her. “I need you to put your socks and shoes on so I can take you to school. I promise you, I’m going to find out where Miss Flowers is, okay? I’m going to get this figured out.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” I stand up and walk out of her room, calling Daphne as soon as I’m out of earshot of Daisy.
“Fuck!” It goes straight to voicemail so I try again. Same thing. I send her a text.
Me:I don’t know what’s going on, but Daisy said you’re not her teacher anymore. Please tell me you didn’t quit because of things between us. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. Call me, please.
I try to call her one more time, but it still goes straight to voicemail.
“Daisy, let’s go!”
By the time we make it to school, we’re late. I walk Daisy to her class, looking through the window of the door to confirm that it is, in fact, not Daphne.
I knock softly and open the door. “Apologies that she’s late; it was my fault.”
“Hurry to your seat, Daisy,” the woman says rather harshly before pulling the door from my hand and closing it.
I walk downstairs to Rick’s office, sticking my head in to see him sitting at his desk.
“Mr. Vaughn.” He pops up with a nervous smile. “How are you doing?” I’m a little taken aback with his overzealous demeanor.
“I’m okay, Rick, but I’m a little confused about something. Do you have a few moments?”
“Sure, sure, come on in.” He closes the door behind me and sits down behind his desk. “I have to say, I’ve been expecting you to come in.”
I cock my head to the side, confused. “You have?”
“Well, yes. After the incident with Miss Flowers, I kn—”
“Incident?” I scoot to the edge of my seat. “What incident?”
“The incident that led to Miss Flowers being fired,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Wait. I had to find out from my six-year-old daughter that her favorite teacher was fired? Did I miss something? An email or note that went out informing the parents of this?”
He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Mr. Vaughn, I’m not sure what your angle is with this. We wanted to try and mitigate this situation as quietly and professionally as possible so as not to draw any sort of unwanted media attention. I’m sure you wouldn’t want it getting out any more than we would.”
