He sneers. “And then, tell me why I get a phone call from another parent, accusing the original parent of harassment and telling me that her daughter had to be taken out of this class?”
“I—”
“This is the opposite of what I told you to do, Oliver. That’s two phone calls from two very, very angry parents. Did you entirely forget about your promotion?”
Shit, shit, shit, shit. I gather myself, building up a response in my head, stacking idea on top of idea, making a tidy little list of reasons, all while Daniels’s greasy face glares at me. “I apologize for my teacher, Mr. Daniels. It will not happen again,” Isay firmly. “She can be a bit…overzealous. I’ve spoken to her at length about it, but it seems she’s refused to heed my directives. Regardless, I still take full accountability for her actions.”
He narrows his eyes. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I need something to tell these parents, Oliver,” he says, frowning at me. “They’d like to see some sort of resolution.”
“I—” I falter.
What the hell is the least hurtful thing I can do to Georgia while getting this man off our asses?I run through a list of options in my head, peeling through them like a dealer shuffling a deck of cards.A third letter to file won’t be such a big deal. It’s not like she’s automatically fired after three letters. I would have to start the firing processafterthe third letter. For something egregious. I just won’t. Besides, her other two letters will expire in April. Just a few more months. This is the best option. Right? Do you have a fucking choice?
“I’ll… I’ll write her up for inappropriate behavior.” I finally answer, hiding my full body wince, already regretting it. I soldier forward. Too late now. “I’ll send you a letter to file to sign. You can reassure the ‘irate’ parent,” I sneer while thinking of his fat face, “that it’s been handled and that she’s been written up.”
He eyes me. “Fine. Let’s go tell her together, then.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to see how you handle difficult situations of this nature, Oliver. If you do become my deputy, you will need to have these types of conversations with the principals you oversee. I want to see how you perform. Let’s go tell your teacher,” he says, and he marches towards her door without waiting for an answer. I practically run after him.
Georgia is standing right on the other side. My heart sinks,and I just know by the look on her face that she’s heard every word of our conversation.
Superintendent Daniels looks at me.
I clear my throat and square my back. I give her a look, one that hopefully imparts,Let’s just make this believable here and now, Georgia, but I love you and I don’t mean a word of it.
She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms.
“Ms. Baker,” I start, and I hate the way my voice sounds. “The superintendent’s office has received several complaints about the way you’ve conducted yourself in your classroom and with the larger PS 2 community.” I wince as I clock her body flushing red, getting tense, ready to explode,furious. “You have been accused of physical and verbal harassment, and after my verbal warning and further investigation, I have no choice but to write you up.”
She erupts. “Are youkiddingme, Oliver?!”
Daniels is shocked. I’m not.
“You were there both times,” she continues, “you know that jerk deserved it. He was assaulting Dorothy’s parents?—”
All I want to do is take her in my arms. “That’senough, Ms. Baker,” I roar over her, silencing her. “You should be ashamed of your behavior. May I remind you that both of your supervisors stand here? Your bosses, Ms. Baker, and I’ve warned you in the past to mind how you speak to us.”
She opens her mouth to rage some more, but I am forced to cut her off.
“You are being written up for insubordination and inappropriate conduct. Come to my office tomorrow morning to sign the paperwork.” I give her a look one last time, but she doesn’t seem to receive it, or if she does, she doesn’t seem to care. I turn on my heel to walk out of the classroom, Daniels following on my heel.
“Should’ve fucking done my therapy homework,” I hear her mutter, before the door slams behind us.
I usher Mr. Daniels out of the building after he commends me on a job well done, but I no longer care. I am itching to run back upstairs to her classroom, but I can’t take that risk, not now, with people still in the building.
I text her.
I’m so sorry. That wasn’t real. I’ll talk to you at home.
She never responds.
I go home to wait for her. She never comes over. I call her. It goes straight to voicemail. I go to bed by myself for the first time in weeks.
