“There’s no need for language,” Mrs. Felch barked.
“The fuck there isn’t,” I countered, angling myself to block part of the opening to the coatroom. “And I think Waylay’s grandparents will agree.”
I jerked my head toward Lou who, until that point, had been holding Amanda back with a good grip on her summer sweater.
“Seems we’ve got ourselves a family conference,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Judging from how your daughter turned out, don’t think for a second that I’m falling for this show of familial support,” Mrs. Felch sniffed. “Waylay Witt is a juvenile delinquent, and her mother is a home-wrecking, pill-popping boil on the bottom of society.”
“Thought you said there’s no need for language.”
“Crap on a cracker,” Amanda whispered, and I guessed she’d just spotted her granddaughter’s hiding place.
“Huh?” Lou was a little slower on the uptake until his wife pointed out the situation. “Ah, hell,” he muttered under his breath. He stepped up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Amanda moved to his right. Together, we created a wall between Waylay and her shitty teacher.
Naomi looked relieved, then turned back to face the kraken. “Mrs. Felch,” she snapped, bringing the woman’s attention back to her.
I snapped my fingers at Waylay and pointed to the door. She started to belly-crawl her way toward the door.
Naomi waved her arms and paced toward the opposite side of the classroom like she was throwing a fit. “I have empathy for your situation. I really do. You certainly didn’t deserve what your husband and my sister did to you. However, you are responsible for not just teaching these students but for making them feel safe in your classroom. And I have it on good authority that you are failing in spectacular fashion when it comes to that duty.”
Waylay’s sneakers disappeared into the hallway.
“Tina took my husband into her bed and—”
“Enough.” I bit out the word, and the woman’s lip trembled.
“Yeah. What he said,” Amanda agreed, backing toward the door. “Oh, dear! I just remembered. I left my purse in the hallway.” She hustled out the door…holding her purse.
Naomi returned to stand in front of me. “I’ll give you the weekend to decide whether you’re going to modify your behavior so that all your students, including my niece, feel safe in your classroom. If you refuse, then I’ll not only have Waylay removed from your class, I’ll go to the school board and I will raise hell.”
I reached an arm around her chest and pulled her back to my front. Naomi the Spitfire could be just a little terrifying when she wasn’t screaming her frustrations into a pillow.
“She’ll do it too,” Lou cut in proudly. “She won’t stop until you’re out of the classroom. And the rest of us will be there to back her up every step of the way.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Mrs. Felch whispered. She sank wearily into the desk chair. “We were supposed to retire together. We were going to drive the RV cross-country. Now I can’t even look at him. The only reason he stayed is because she dropped him as quick as she picked him up.”
I guessed it couldn’t be easy for Lou to hear this about one of his daughters. But the man hid it well.
I felt Naomi’s anger drain out of her.
“You didn’t deserve what happened to you,” Naomi said again, her voice softer now. “But neither does Waylay. And I’m not going to let anyone make her feel like she’s responsible for the decisions adults make. You and Waylay both deserve better than the hands you were dealt.”
Mrs. Felch flinched, then sagged back in her chair.
I gave Naomi an approving squeeze.
“We’ll leave you to your weekend,” she said. “Feel free to email me your decision. Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday morning.”
“Waylay Regina Witt!”
Apparently Naomi wasn’t done yelling when we returned to the parking lot, where Amanda and Waylay stood next to my grandmother’s car.
“Now, Naomi,” Amanda began.
“Don’t you ‘now, Naomi’ me, Mom. Someone under five feet with blue streaks in her hair had better start explaining why I came down to discuss a situation with her teacher only to find my niece hiding in the coatroom with a jar of mice! You’re supposed to be at Liza’s with your grandparents.”
Waylay looked at the toes of her sneakers. They were the pink ones I’d bought her. She’d added a heart charm to the laces. There were two mice nestled on a cushion of dried grass in the jar at her feet.