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“Thanks. So do you.” Bobbi leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “I heard what happened. About Maribel.”
“How? I didn’t say anything.” Dora furrowed her brow. She was pretty sure that Master Derek, Mr. Berringer, and Alastair wouldn’t have said anything, either. That only left…
“Maribel,” Bobbi replied, confirming her suspicion. “She told her friends but I’m pretty sure the story she gave them is a lot different than the truth.”
Dora put down the apple she was holding, her appetite suddenly gone. “What did she say?”
Bobbi quietly recounted the false narrative in which Maribel had rebuffed Alastair’s advances and a jealous Dora had confronted her on the front lawn, leading to a confrontation. In Maribel’s version, Dora had been the one to threaten her and everything Maribel had done from tearing up the sticker to tripping Dora had all been acts of self-defense. She planned to fight Master Derek’s decision and enlist her friends to back up her story.
“There was a tape!” Dora said.
“But no audio.”
“What do I do?” Dora felt the familiar panic rising within her.
“Don’t worry.” Bobbi reached across the table and gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m just telling you, so you’ll know. Maribel lives for drama. Daddy says she’s like, a legit narcissist but I’m not supposed to tell anyone about his professional opinions. She won’t get away with it.”
Dora had read about narcissists with their preoccupation with beauty, inflated sense of self-importance, entitlement, and capacity for exploitation. Dora knew someone like that wouldn’t accept rejection or consequences. It frightened her to think of the damage someone like that could do with rumor and innuendo.
The heady thrill of her attraction to Alastair was tempered by what she learned and as much as Dora wanted to remain positive, worries and doubts began creeping in. She grew panicky if someone looked at her for too long, worried about the reach of Maribel’s words, worried that she was perceived as the psycho fat girl with a crush on a teacher.
When the last bell rang, Alastair asked her to stay and wipe down the chalkboard. It was Friday afternoon and the classrooms emptied quickly. When Dora was finished with this final task, she turned to see Alastair staring out the window.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“Yes, actually. Now that we’re alone, I wanted to ask you something. Singles Day is coming up. Have you heard of it?”
Dora told him she knew it was an event where unattached Littles went to look for Daddies.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said.
Dora looked at him, puzzled. “Why?”
“Because I would very much like…” He paused in a moment of apparent, charming, awkwardness. “I’d very much like to be your Daddy, Dora.”
She didn’t know what to say and could only stare at him dumbfounded.
“Maribel is spreading lies about me,” she said. “She’s going to cause trouble…”
“I don’t care.” He walked over to her. “I don’t care. I’ve always known myself better than anyone else. Life has taught me that when something feels right, despite the negativity, despite the haters, if I don’t follow my heart then I’ll miss out on what I know will make me happy. Dora, you make me happy, and I think as your Daddy, I can make you happy. And yes, I know this is sudden and dizzying and…”
He turned away then. “And God, I’ve been thinking of how to have this conversation with you all day because I’ve frankly been scared to death.”
“You? Scared? Of what?”
“Dora…” He’d walked back to the window. His hands were in the pockets of his trousers. “Do you remember this morning when I told you I understood what it’s like to be different?”
She nodded.
“I wasn’t always the man you see before you.”
Now she approached him and shyly took his hands as he’d taken hers. Even if this man didn’t want to be her Daddy, he deserved to feel safe with her. She wanted him to know that. “Tell me,” she said, pivoting him toward her.
“Dora, I was born a woman.”
It wasn’t the response Dora expected. She let his words sink in. She could see the fear in his face and knew how much strength it must have taken to share this kind of secret. No one had ever mentioned anything about Professor Robinson being trans, which meant it wasn’t common knowledge. He was putting his entire trust in her, and she knew then how they shared the same fear of judgment, of rejection. This was someone who understood her pain because he’d endured his own.
“Alastair, the only person I see in front of me is the man of my dreams. The Daddy of my dreams.”
