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“No one was hurt, but this is the third time this school year. She's at risk of losing her scholarship as it is." Sister Agatha’s face softens, but just barely. At least I know there is some shred of sympathy in her cold, mummified heart. “Aurora, I don’t want to see you in here again. You’re a bright girl.”
Aurora gives an emphatic nod. "It won't happen again, I swear—”
“Don’t swear.” That look of sympathy is gone, replaced by the kind of vitriol I’ve come to expect from Sister Agatha.
“We’ll just be going, then..” I stand and reach out a hand for Rory, as she mumbles another apology.
Sister shakes her head and mutters under her breath as we walk out. I’m fairly certain I catch the phrase:like mother, like daughter. My fists clench and I give serious consideration to ripping Sister Agatha a new one, but my daughter is watching me with those huge brown eyes, so full of innocence and love… so I let it go.Thistime.
As we near the jeep, Rory turns her face up to me and rolls her big brown eyes. “She really doesn’t like you.”
“Really? How could you tell?” I open the passenger door for my daughter.
“I used my keen powers of obstruction.”
“Observation.”
Rory climbs in. “Same difference.”
With a laugh, I dash around to my side. We sit in silence for a moment. My daughter fiddles with the window controls, looking anywhere but at me. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
She shrugs and turns her little face out the window. "Kelsey Peters, again."
She doesn’t elaborate, but I can venture a guess about what happened. Kelsey and Rory have had a rivalry since day one that started with Kelsey commenting on Rory’s lack of a father. I’m proud that my daughter doesn’t tolerate mean girls, but my heart still hurts for her. I sigh and reach out to rest my hand on her knee. "Rory, if you want to talk about--"
"I don't," she says. "I won't push her again. I promise." She extends a pinkie finger. I hook mine around hers and shake on it.
“Want to go get terrible Chinese food for dinner?” I ask as we pull away from the elementary school that has become the bane of my existence. When I rented my new office space, I knew the commute would be hell, but my office is in a great part of town, and I got it for a steal. I didn’t want to pull Aurora out of her school in the middle of the year, but one more lecture from Sister Agatha and I might change my mind on that.
We make our way to China Star Buffet, where we sit at our usual table. “Winner gets to pick the movie tonight?” Rory says conspiratorially as I start a timer on my phone. That’s our game any time we go to a buffet. Whoever taps out first at the buffet has the right to choose the movie.
“Ready? Set? Go!” I grin as Rory races off to fill her plate. Rory always wins this contest. No one can pack away Chinese food like a growing seven-year-old. At this rate she’s going to be tall like her dad—
I cut the thought off as quick as it came. Where did that come from? I’ve mastered the art of not thinking about the past, but sometimes it slips through. I force a smile watching my daughter giggle as she eats and tells me all about her day at school.
When I found out I was pregnant with Rory, I was young, and I hadn’t given any thought to kids. I thought I had years to make up my mind about having any… but sometimes life has plans of its own. Rory is the single best thing that ever happened to me, but it was tough, doing it all on my own.
I stop eating to listen to Rory chattering about school and soccer for so long that my beef and broccoli go cold. I wasn’t very hungry anyway.
“I quit,” I say, pushing my plate away.
“I win.” Rory grins.
“You always win. You have a hollow leg.” I glance at the time and notice that I have a message from Jules. Not a text, an actual voicemail—which is, like, not an everyday occurrence. God, the building must be on fire if it warranted a voicemail.
I hold a finger in front of my lips, motioning for Rory to keep quiet for a moment while I listen to it. She’s too happy chewing a chipmunk cheeks worth of rice to notice.
“Oh my god, Iz! Stop everything you’re doing and call me immediately. We just got the offer of the century—maybe the millennium—or what’s bigger than that—epoch? Just, call me back!”
“What’s wrong, mommy?” Rory asks.
“Nothing.” My brow is still creased as I dial Jules. “Just Auntie Jules, being extra,” I say, just before Jules picks up. “What’s going on? Calm down, calm down… what? The Dallas Cowboys? Seriously?Is this a joke?” Maybe the stress is finally getting to me, but I think she just said my small start-up marketing firm was hired by the Dallas, freaking, Cowboys.
“Not a joke! The manager for the team called and offered us the contract on the spot. I guess his niece owns that boutique we manage—Fashion Beatle—”
“Fashion Bug,” I correct, as I try to come to terms with what Jules just told me. I just got offered the contract to be the social media manager for an actual NFL team? That’s huge! That’s the kind of contract that would let me hire a few more employees so I don’t have to work around the clock. I could actually take Rory on a nice vacation for once. I definitely owe Fashion Bug a fruit basket or something.
“Okay, you can fill me in on everything in the morning,” I say.
