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“He needs to know we’re upset.”
“He knows,” she said. “We all walked into his office andtoldhim we were upset. Just before we walked into Mr. Clark’s office and toldhim.”
“He didn’t listen,” Toby argued. “You can make him understand.”
Beau felt his gut tightening. Toby was asking Becca to further the discussion. With herdad. Not just as a teacher, but as his daughter. At home. And it was a discussion they’d clearly already had. That was a tough spot to put her in.
Becca sighed. “He’s a smart man, Toby. He understands.”
“If he did, he wouldn’t have let it happen.”
“He can’t override the school board.”
Toby just stared at her for a long moment. “You’re defending him?”
Becca frowned and sat up straighter. “I’m not defending him. I’m just saying that there’s nothing he can do at this point.”
“So you won’t even try to talk to him? To be our voice?” Toby asked.
“I didn’t say that!” Becca protested. “It’s just complicated.”
“You’re in a unique position,” Toby said, softening his tone slightly. “He has to listen to you. He’ll care more if it comes from someone heloves.”
Beau saw Becca grimace slightly at that and his chest tightened. It wasn’t that Becca thought her dad didn’t love her. Of course he did. But he’d always been tough on her. Strict. With high standards. And he wouldn’t play favorites. Her talking to him might not make a difference.
“You’re his daughter and a teacher at this school. The decisions he helps make affect you directly now,” Toby said. “That has to matter to him. It will make him think about things differently. That’s powerful. You have to use that.”
Scowling, Beau shifted forward. “Okay, enough.” He lifted Toby’s hand off the table, causing the other man to straighten and step back. “You’ve made your point.”
Toby frowned. “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah. You did. Now stop,” Beau told him.
“This is a big deal,” Toby informed him.
“I get it.”
“And I’m sure you agree that the football field is of the utmost importance, but there are twenty kids on the football team. The arts programs includes actual art classes, band, choir, drama, dance. And our art classes include everything from painting to photography to graphic design. And yes, we’re ‘“just’” elementary teachers and this is a ‘“high school problem’,” Toby continued, using air quotes. “But our kids will be those high school kids one day. I want my second graders tohavean art program. I want to know that Alexa will be able to sing and dance on a stage with her parents in the audience applauding just as loudly as they do for the football team. I want to know that Mason will be able to play a saxophone like his favorite jazz musicians, even if he also puts on a football uniform. I think we shouldallcare about thewholeschool!”
Beau and Becca weren’t the only ones staring at Toby after that impressive rant. Several tables nearby had also stopped eating and had heard every word.
Beau watched Toby for several seconds before asking, “Can I go now?”
Toby drew in a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Okay, so I did play football and was damned good and had a hell of a good time. But because of Mr. Taggart, our shop teacher, I learned to use tools and realized I love woodworking and became anartistwho has made that into a business right here, about five blocks from that football field. So I’mon your side,” he told Toby.
Toby opened his mouth.
“And I did juststarin the community theater’s summer production ofBarefoot in the Park,if you remember.”
Of course he remembered. Toby had played the eccentric upstairs neighbor and had delighted in giving Beau and Becca director’s notes after every “rehearsal”.
Toby closed his mouth.
Then Beau looked at Becca. “Bec is fully on your side too, of course.” He looked back at Toby. “But you need to back off of her. I’m not gonna have you making her uncomfortable and butting into things with her and her dad.”
Toby crossed his arms and looked at Becca.
