Table For Five. Susan Wiggs
just great,” said Derek.
Lily bit her tongue and kept her face immobile. Derek clearly had issues with failure. But this was about Charlie, not him. It was not even about Crystal, whose heart was breaking right before Lily’s eyes. Urging retention was often the panicked, knee-jerk reaction of a parent. Lacking a complete knowledge of all the options, some parents tended to favor repeating a grade, unaware of how the extreme solution could traumatize a child. “In this case, I don’t think retention is the answer.”
“So you’re just going to promote her like they’ve done since first grade?” Crystal’s tears evaporated on the heat of anger. “That’s been a huge help, let me tell you. A huge help.”
Lily swallowed hard, feeling her friend’s anguish. A parent-teacher conference was such a theater of the soul. Everyone involved was stripped bare, their emotions stark and honest. So much of a parent’s identity was wrapped up in the child: love, pride, self-worth, validation. It was an unfair burden on a small human being, but every child bore it, the lofty, seemingly unreachable expectations of her parents.
“I’ve mapped out several options for Charlie,” Lily told them, handing each a packet. “You can go over these at home. For now, let’s assume we see some progress this summer and she goes on to fourth grade here at Laurelhurst.”
“In other words,” Derek said stiffly, “you might not want her back here.”
Behind Lily’s left eye, a tiny headache flared to life like a struck match. Laurelhurst was a nationally recognized independent school; the waiting list for admissions was years long. A man like Derek—successful, accomplished, privileged—regarded any other school as subpar. “This is about what’s best for Charlie, not about what I want. What we should really focus on is the summer. I’m hoping that intensive training at the Chall Reading Institute in Portland will initiate some real progress for Charlie.” The program was a huge commitment of time and money for the whole family, but its success rate was unparalleled.
“This is ten weeks long,” Crystal said, studying the brochure. She regarded Lily with dismay and flipped open a well-worn leather Day-Timer. “We’re booked on a Disney cruise for ten days in June. In July, she’s got riding camp. And August—”
“The kids are with me in August,” Derek said. “We’ve got a rental booked on Molokai.”
Lily had trained herself to hold back and choose her words carefully during a conference. It was particularly hard in this case to assert the child’s needs. How easy it would be to simply say, “Sounds great! Have a wonderful summer.” And then next year, Charlie would be some other teacher’s problem.
However, Charlie was Lily’s main concern, no matter what she felt for Crystal. The outcome of today’s meeting could very well test their lifelong friendship. But a child’s future hung in the balance, and Lily was determined to save her at any cost.
“I’m hoping to stay focused on Charlie’s needs throughout the summer,” she said.
“Weren’t you listening? It’s a Disney Cruise,” Crystal said, an edge in her voice. “It’s all about kids and fun. I’ve been promising them all year. And camp, that’s totally about Charlie. You wouldn’t believe the strings I had to pull just to get her in. It’s at Sundance, for heaven’s sake. She probably had to edge out Demi Moore’s kids just to get a spot there this summer.”
“How much is this riding camp going to cost?” Derek asked.
“Probably less than your damned house on Molokai,” Crystal snapped.
“I’m still paying off your Christmas trip to Sun Valley.”
“I know where you rank in the PGA. Unfortunately for you, I can find that out on ESPN. You can afford Sun Valley.”
“Not the way you spend. You’ve given a whole new meaning to ‘spousal maintenance.’”
Lily sat impassively, biting her tongue until it hurt. When a couple argued about money, it was never about money. It was about power and self-worth and judgment; that much Lily had learned from her own parents as she lay awake at night in the dark like a shipwreck victim adrift in a storm at sea, with the tempest raging around her.
In the eight years she’d been a teacher, she’d held a number of conferences. She had weathered many spats, and she found that it was best to allow them to play out and lose their intensity. It was like allowing a pressure cooker to let off some steam, making room inside for something else—in this case, Lily’s input about Charlie.
Her headache deepened, the pain turning arrow-sharp and burrowing into a tender spot behind her eye. Neither Crystal nor Derek seemed to notice. Lily had sat too many times in the presence of a couple sniping at each other in the age-old tug-of-war over the most fragile prize of all—a child.
Sometimes it took all of Lily’s self-control to keep in the righteous anger, to stop herself from blurting, Will you listen to yourselves? How is this helping your child? And she hadn’t even told them everything about Charlie yet. A tiny devil of impulse tempted her to hold back, to keep Charlie’s secret for her, but Lily couldn’t do that. The little girl had issued a cry for help.
“Could we get back to Charlie?” she asked. “Please?” Taking advantage of a pause in the argument, she said, “There is something else to discuss.”
Crystal and Derek glared at each other, visibly shelving the argument. Derek clenched his jaw and folded his arms across his chest as he swiveled to face Lily. Crystal pursed her lips and closed her Day-Timer, also turning her attention to Lily. Whatever their differences, they still had their love for their children in common and were trying to put aside their own agendas for the sake of Charlie.
Lily did her best to ignore the splitting headache an regarded them both. “We’ve talked a lot about Charlie’s academic challenges,” she said. “Lately, I’ve seen some behavioral changes in her, as well.”
“What do you mean, behavioral changes?” Derek remained defensive, no surprise to Lily.
She didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. “In the past couple of weeks, she’s been stealing.”
The room filled with silence. Shocked, disbelieving silence. Both faces lost the ability to register expressions. Finally, Lily had their attention.
She took advantage of the silence. “First off, I need to tell you that stealing is very common in kids this age. A lot of them go through it. And second, in most cases, definitely in Charlie’s, stealing is not about the objects stolen.”
“Whoa,” said Derek. “Just a damned minute. Stealing? You say she’s stealing. What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’ve always given Charlie everything she’s ever needed or wanted,” Crystal swore, and Lily could tell she genuinely believed it.
“Of course you have,” she agreed, though her tone conveyed an unspoken however. “As I mentioned, it’s a fairly specific behavior. With a basically honest child like Charlie, its significance is not what it seems to be on the surface.” She wondered how technical to get at this juncture. The syndrome was deep, complex and far-reaching. Yet it was also a problem that was solvable if dealt with appropriately. For now, she thought, she needed to stick to the facts and let Charlie’s parents work through their shock and denial.
In a gentle voice, she said, “Let me tell you what I’ve observed and what I think is going on with Charlie.”
“Please do,” said Crystal, her voice faint. For a moment she looked so utterly lost and sad that Lily flashed on Crystal as a teenager, Lily’s idol and role model. They had needed each other from the start, and now their roles were reversing. Crystal was the needy one. Lily was desperate to help her.
She felt a peculiar malevolence emanating from Derek. It would not be the first time a parent regarded her with suspicion and distrust. Hazard of the profession, Edna always assured her.
Trying to project