Page 16 of Endless Southern Love

Once my emails stop dinging, I begin the scroll from bottom to top, ignoring the ‘reply all’ ones that have nothing to do with me, whatsoever. Pressing Jean’s button on my phone, I wait for her to answer.

“Hey,” I say when the channel opens. “Can you draft a letter regarding the use of reply all. I have a million and one emails that have nothing to do with me.”

Jean sighs. “I sent it last week. I’ll remind everyone.”

“Kindly,” I tell her.

“No, now it’s time for the slapstick to come out.”

I shake my head and tell myself I don’t want to know what an email slapstick is. “Thank you.” I disconnect the call and go back to reading each message, pausing when I see Marigold’s name in the subject line.

Ms. Walsh,

Mr. Jenkins reported this morning that Marigold is being harassed by a couple of the boys in class. I’ve reached out to the parents of these boys to let them know I’ve asked them to keep their hands to themselves.

Thank you, Brittany.

My heart hits the floor and takes a god-awful amount of time to bounce back into place. Any type of bullying is not tolerated here. I forward this email to Jean. She’ll know to print and add it to everyone’s file. After replying to Ms. Matson, I begin shuffling the papers on my desk and happen to glance at the clock. Somehow, the rest of my morning has flown by, and classes are going to start releasing for lunch.

“I’m heading to the lunchroom,” I tell Jean as I pass by the front. Instead of going straight there, I head down the hall where Ms. Matson’s room is and linger until she opens the door, and the kids file out one by one. I fall in step beside Brittany and smile kindly at her.

“Tell me about Marigold.”

Brittany lights up when I say the young girl’s name. “She’s such a delight in class, but barely speaks unless I call on her. She does all her work, doesn’t complain, and will engage with others if I encourage it.”

“But?”

Ms. Matson sighs. “She’s having trouble making friends. I’ve put her in a reading group with Lacie and Maye. They seem to get along, but Goldie is pretty quiet. Doesn’t talk much.”

“Goldie is what she likes to be called?” I ask, knowing full well her intake form listed Goldie as her nickname.

Brittany nods. “She will answer to Marigold as well.”

I thank her as we head into the cafeteria. As normal, I take my post and greet kids as they walk by. My eyes land Marigold. She’s sitting by herself, away from her classmates. Then I scan the room for Lacie and Maye, who are doing what girls their age do best, gabbing up a storm.

I make my way over to Marigold and sit down. “Hello, Goldie. I’m Ms. Walsh. Do you remember meeting me?”

She nods and picks at her sandwich.

“How do you like our school?”

She shrugs.

“Is it smaller than your school in Jacksonville?”

This time she nods. “I miss my friends.” Goldie looks across the room, at the table where some of her classmates sit.

“How come you’re not sitting with Lacie and Maye? Ms. Matson tells me the three of you work together.”

Goldie shrugs.

“How about I take you over to the girls?”

She says nothing and starts packing her lunch. Goldie follows and as I approach the table, Lacie smiles.

“Hi, Ms. Walsh.”

“Hi, Lacie. Is there room for Goldie to join you?”

---