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7
“Daddy will be so mad at me,” Amanda said, wiping the tears from her face.
Brit glanced at the girl, eyes still reddened from her quiet crying session from the school to the park near Damian’s house. Brit still had her own kid to pick up from school later, but she’d deal with this small crisis now.
“Honey, I’ll talk to him okay?” She caressed her cheek. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
When she got a call from school earlier that day, she thought it’d maybe be about Libby. Maybe her daughter had spiked a fever or caught lice; but she’d been wrong about the student and the reason. Mrs. Laurel, the principal, had informed her that Amanda had punched a fellow student.
She had offered to go pick her up for the day. In other circumstances, Mrs. Laurel had said Amanda would have been suspended, but since she knew about the Violet situation, she had decided to spare the kindergartener from more trouble.
“Why did you punch your friend?”
“Becky has been braiding her hair, and I asked her how to do it.”
“Yeah?”
“Then she told me her mom did it every morning. And she asked me if I knew when my mom was coming,” Amanda said, her voice wavering. “I didn’t say anything and Cynthia, this other girl, said my mom would never come back.”
“And that’s why you punched Cynthia?” she asked.
Amanda glanced down, blushing. “And Becky.”
Brit cleared her throat. Damn. “And Becky,” she repeated. Could she be mad at the girl for taking her emotions on someone? When she’d been bullied at elementary school for not having a father attend any of her events, she’d slapped the boys who had teased her. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, taking a lock of hair from Amanda’s face and tucking behind her ear.
“Why are you sorry?” Amanda squared her shoulders and tilted her head.
“Because you shouldn’t have to face this. Kids can be mean sometimes.”
“Aunt Brit?”
She stroked Amanda’s cheek. “Yes?”
“Do you believe my mom will ever come back?”
Brit’s lungs tightened. She’d give anything, especially now, for Violet to be back, healthy and good, to be the one consoling her daughter. “I think your mom will come back, my angel, but not knowing when is what’s hard. I miss her too. She’ll come back.”
“Did your father ever come back?”
More like a sperm donor, but she didn’t need to get into the logistics of biology with Amanda. Besides, she couldn’t miss what she’d never had. “No, but my father wasn’t a good person. Your mom is a wonderful person going through a really bad phase. She preferred to be away from you while she gets back to a good phase again, when she can be the best mother she can be.”
“I hope so. I miss Mommy.”
“She misses you too, honey.”
Amanda launched herself in Brit’s arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, Aunt Brit.”
Brit held her firmly. “And I love you, sweet Amanda. I’m not mad at you for lashing out at your friends, but from now on let’s try to find other ways to show we’re upset.”
“I heard Daddy say god damn it before.”
“Yeah, let’s try something else.”
She chuckled. “Okay.”
Brit’s phone buzz, and she fished it out of her pocket. “Why don’t you go play for a little before we go?” she said to Amanda.
Amanda dashed to the slides, and Brit accepted the call. “Hey,” she said, recognizing his face on the ID. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. Figured you were busy.”
