Chapter 10

Allison

I should have known better than to let my guard down, but with all the bliss of a new job and bigger pay, and all the plans I’d already begun to make for me and my daughter, I couldn’t help it. Take that and multiply it by David DeVant, and it was too much joy for one person. Reality was waiting to knock me down a peg.

I walked into the front office of my daughter’s school, and as I approached the secretary, she smiled and pushed out a clipboard. “Please sign in, Mrs. Simon.” I wanted to correct her about my name. I wasn’t a Mrs. anymore, but a Ms., not that they’d care. I signed my name.

“I’m here to see Ms. Clare.” My daughter’s teacher had called me in for a parent/teacher conference.

“You can go back. Here’s a visitor’s pass.” The woman handed me a sticker which I pressed on my shirt before heading down the hall to my daughter’s classroom.

Ms. Clare met me at the door. “Hello, Ms. Simon.”

“Please, call me Allison. It’s unexpected to see you again.” I wanted to ask her if my daughter had left teeth marks in anyone or worse, but she led me in and had me sit in a child-sized chair in front of her desk.

“I wanted to talk to you about Sierra.” She smiled pleasantly, and I wanted to say no shit. “As you know, she had a bit of trouble last week with the assault on the other student.”

“Assault? I hardly would call a bite an assault; incident, maybe, but please continue.” I placed my handbag on the floor and met her eyes.

“Well, tomato, to-mah-to.” She shrugged. “I’m not here to argue, but I really feel she needs to start seeing the counselor. She’s having some social issues, and I’m not just talking about the assault—”

“Incident,” I corrected, gritting my teeth through a tight smile.

“Ah, yeah. So, I’m not really sure what’s going on at home, but with her behavior, I can’t help but think there might be some form of abuse or possible neglect that the counselor would be better qualified than you or me to determine. Do you happen to know of anything that might be disturbing your child? Causing her to be a bit standoffish?”

I had been numb since she’d used the word abuse, and my hackles were so high, I was ready to stand up and pinch her head off. If she wanted abuse, I could damn well show it to her.

“I’m not sure what’s going on here at school, but I can assure you on our end, things are okay. Now, having said that, she does go to her father’s house every other weekend, so I’m not able to say what goes on there. But I assure you, I’ll get to the bottom of that as soon as I leave here.”

She blinked a few times, looking down her nose at me. I stood up, sick of the child-sized chair, which obviously had this teacher confusing me for a little kid. I leaned against the desk and gripped my purse at my side as I forced a smile.

Ms. Clare frowned. “I see. So, you think there could be a problem on her father’s end?” Her brow rose, and I bit my lip to stop from telling her she’d just earned an A for repeating what I’d said.

“I can’t say there is, but as I said, what happens there is not in my control. But if there is some sort of issue, I’ll make sure it’s dealt with. But I don’t think this is an issue for counseling since this is the first time we’ve discussed the situation, and you yourself have admitted you’re no authority on abuse. I will talk to my daughter and let you know what I find out, but I don’t want to disrupt her daily routine unless absolutely necessary.”

Instead of seeming understanding, she seemed disappointed. “Well, I suppose we’ll see how this works, but if she doesn’t come out of her shell, I’m going to have to recommend she start weekly sessions.”

“Thank you. I’d like to go ahead and take her with me since there’s only an hour of school left.”

“Certainly, Ms. Simon. I’ll have her sent to the office.” I walked down the hall and waited for my daughter, wondering what could be going on. Surely, there wasn’t something that she hadn’t told me. She’d always been so good about communicating with me, and I found it hard to believe that she was being abnormally standoffish when she usually had a sweet personality. My heart was breaking as I saw her walking around the corner. What if there were bullies picking on her?

“Do I get to leave early, Mama?” Her little head turned up with a smile, and she wagged her eyebrows.

“Yes, so you can turn off the charm. We’re going home.”

“Did you go to work today?”

“No, I came in to talk to your teacher.” I held her hand and led her out into the parking lot. I wanted to get her in the car before I asked her any questions.

I opened her door, and she climbed in and strapped herself in. I walked around and got in with her. Before I started the car, I took a deep breath. I couldn’t fathom that her father was low enough to abuse her. Sure, he’d gotten to a point where he was loathsome of me, but he’d never been mean or cruel to her, that I knew of. Even though he’d gotten bitter through the divorce, he’d always kept his cool in front of Sierra. But I had to know.

“Honey, I know you don’t like going to your father’s house, but I need you to be very brave and answer a few questions for me. You can be brave, can’t you?”

She nodded quickly and folded her hands in her lap. “I sleep in my room in the dark all the time, and I’m pretty sure I could handle scary movies if you’d let me watch them.”

“Oh yeah? I’d have to think about that one. But let’s get to these questions first.”

“Sure.” She shrugged her little shoulders and shifted in her seat to face me.

“Does anyone do or say anything that hurts you? Like your dad or Cindy?” She blinked a few times, her face devoid of any emotion, reminding me a lot of her teacher. “You know you can tell me anything, honey.”

She nodded.

“If there’s anything, you should just tell me. I won’t be mad at you, but I want to make sure that whatever is going on stops.”

“There’s nothing.” She turned and looked out the window and didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, but instead of going home, I decided to make a detour.

“Where are we going?” she asked as I took an exit.

“I thought we’d surprise your grandparents.” If I couldn’t get her to talk, then maybe my mother and father could. I’d learned one lesson as a mother; when all else failed, call Grandma and Grandpa.

My mother was surprised to see us. “Hey, honey. What’s the cause of this surprise?” She was in the kitchen cooking dinner. “I’m making soup if you two want to stay for dinner. There’s even French bread with cheese if you want to dunk it.”

She gave Sierra a wink, and her eyes lit up. I could tell that something was weighing terribly on her mind, and I sent her to sit with my father as I helped my mother cook and explained my meeting with the teacher.

“That doesn’t sound right, Allison. There’s got to be more to this story. I’ll see what I can do to help you get to the bottom of it.”

“I just can’t believe he’d be cruel to her.”

“He’s cruel to you,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe he talks to her that way when you’re not around to abuse.”

“Yeah, but she hasn’t done anything to him, and he hates me. I can see him wanting to hurt me, but her?” I shook my head. “I just can’t fathom it, Mom.” I let loose a deep, cleansing breath, and my mother patted my back.

“You’ll be okay, dear. We’ll get this sorted out.”

“I know. I just hate that I can’t get her to tell me. I know it has to be something.”

“Did you tell me everything growing up?” My mother gave me a pointed look.

“Heck no.” My laugh was half-hearted.

“And why was that? You knew you could tell me anything.”

“Well, I couldn’t tell you things, knowing they’d hurt you. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. So, I was ashamed, I guess.”

“So, maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell you. She knows it will hurt you and shame her.”

I gave that some thought, and it was actually the only thing that made sense. “She’s such a strong kid, usually.”

I had always prided myself on being a strong woman, but even the strongest have a hard time when their children are suffering.

At the dinner table, my mother made small talk, asking me about the new job, and when David’s name was mentioned, it got Sierra’s attention.

“I like him,” she said.

“You do?” I asked. “Why do you like him so much?” I couldn’t help but be curious what struck her fancy about him.

“He said you’re pretty, Mama.” She waggled her brows and giggled.

“When did he say that?” I turned to my mother and shrugged.

“He said I was beautiful like you, remember? And I like anyone who thinks we’re pretty. And I hate everyone who thinks we’re not.” She got a strange look on her face and stirred her soup in slow circles.

“Does anyone ever say you’re not pretty?” I asked.

She looked up and then turned her eyes to my mother.

“Sierra? Answer your mother, dear.” Mom gave my daughter the look, and she sank her bread into her bowl.

“If someone says that, then they’re not someone you want to be around, right?” I assumed some of the kids at school had teased her, and that this must be the root of the problem.

“So, if I don’t have to be around them, does this mean I don’t have to go to Dad’s house any more?”

My blood turned cold. This wasn’t some childhood bully bullshit.

“Did your father say something to you about not being pretty?” I asked.

“No, not Daddy, but Cindy said you’re ugly, and then Daddy says I get things from you, like my hair. Then he tells Cindy he hates you. Does he hate me, too?”

“Of course not, honey. Your dad is having a hard time being on his own, and he’s angry with me because I get to be with you so much. It’s really not about the way either of us looks, and he’d never hate you.”

“At school, they were talking about having their daddy’s come to Career Day, and I don’t want mine to come. It’s all they talk about. That’s why I like David. He’s nicer than Daddy and Cindy. He likes you, Mama, and he likes me, too.”

“Honey, you know I don’t have to tell your father about any of this. We’ll figure it out. Don’t let that worry you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this sooner?”

“Because I didn’t want it to hurt your feelings. You’re not really ugly, Mama. Not to me, anyway, and not to David.”

My father cleared his throat. “And not to me, either. All three of my girls are the prettiest.” He gave Sierra a wink, and just like that, she felt better.

“You should invite David over for dinner Saturday night,” my mother said. “I can cook a roast, and you can bake him some oatmeal cookies. Weren’t those his favorite? How about it. Give him a call.”

“I want to help, too!” Sierra pounded her spoon against the side of her bowl and cheered. “Call him! Call him!” She hopped out of her seat and brought me my phone.

“Fine, okay. I will.” I rolled my eyes and laughed, taking out the phone and dialing his number.