Page 6 of Trouble Comes in Threes

I leaned back and looked up into his loving eyes for a second before giving his chest one last pat and jogging down the porch steps. After I tossed the bags into the passenger seat, I got in and started the car, taking a deep breath to settle down from the morning craziness. I was just about to back out of the driveway when Joe came outside carrying my thermal mug.

I rolled down the window, and he held it out to me. “I think you’re gonna need your coffee.”

I took it from him and sighed. “Is this ever gonna get easier?”

“Maybe when they’ve all graduated from high school,” he said, grinning ear to ear. He loved every minute of the craziness. Most days, I did too, but today, I was worried about Ashley.

I dropped Liam and Hope off at the New Living Hope Revival Church daycare before rushing to take Ashley and Mikey to their elementary school.

It was the same school Violet and I had attended when we were little girls—where I’d been bullied mercilessly. It had been hard to come back for school performances with Violet when Ashley had started kindergarten, but I’d learned to deal with it. Still, walking in now with the kids pouring into the building caused my nerves to kick in. I couldn’t stop the other kids from talking about her father, but I could expect her teacher to intervene on her behalf.

After I dropped Mikey off in his classroom, Ashley grabbed my hand and squeezed. I glanced down at her and offered a reassuring smile as we walked down the hallway to Room 110.

Kids were entering Mrs. Pritchard’s classroom, and she was standing at the front of the room, writing the date on the whiteboard.

I cleared my throat. “Mrs. Pritchard.”

Ashley still clung to my hand as her teacher turned to face me with a disapproving glare. “Mrs. Simmons,” she said, somehow looking down her nose at me, despite the fact I was a good fifteen feet from her. “I expected you to show up a half-hour ago.”

This woman had been at West Side Elementary since I’d attended here, and while I’d never had her as a teacher, I’d known her to be strict. I’d almost requested a classroom reassignment for Ashley, but she seemed to thrive when firm rules were in place. In fact, I sometimes wondered if she floundered in the chaos at our farmhouse. I’d figured an enforced school environment might suit her. And I had to admit, other than a few incidents involving Oliver, Ashley had loved her fourth-grade year up until this point. But allowing children to taunt my niece over something—whether it be in or out of her control—was not acceptable, and I planned to make sure it didn’t happen again.

I gave her a haughty look. “And I expect my kids to all go to bed without asking for a glass of water or wanting us to read the same My Little Pony book seventeen days in a row, but that rarely happens.”

Her mouth dropped, and she stared at me in shock before she recovered, pinching her lips with condemnation. “Class is about to start, so this will have to wait until after school.”

“No,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’m here now, so we’ll discuss it now.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Mrs. Pritchard said.

“Then Ashley and I will be talking with the principal…with or without you, because I definitely have plenty to talk about with him.” My hand tightened around Ashley’s, and I led her out of the classroom toward the office.

“Mrs. Simmons,” Mrs. Pritchard called after me. “Wait.”

I stopped and turned to face her. She still looked angry, but she seemed to be trying to hide it.

There were fewer children in the hallway, but the ones who were there gaped at us before moving toward their respective classrooms.

Mrs. Pritchard stood in the doorway, glancing in the classroom. “Everyone start your morning work,” she said. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She stepped into the hall. “This really should be handled after school.”

“I’m here now, and I’m not going to have Ashley worrying herself to death over it all day long.” I drew in a breath. “Ashley told me that Oliver said mean things about her father yesterday.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Oliver spoke the truth.” Her brows lifted. “Or is her father not in prison?”

My belly burned with indignation. “I think I’ve heard enough. Come on, Ashley.” I headed toward the office again, terrified of what I’d do to the woman if I was forced to face her a second longer.

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” Ashley whispered, giving me slight resistance.

“You won’t, but hopefully Mrs. Pritchard will.”

Ashley stopped in her tracks, bringing me to a halt. “I don’t want her to get in trouble either.”

“You let me worry about that.”

I stomped into the office and demanded to speak to the principal, an older man who had been the principal when I’d attended over two decades before. He came out of his office a few minutes later and motioned for us to come in.

Ashley moved like she was on a death march, but I ushered her in, and we both sat on chairs in front of his desk. “Mr. Caldoni, thank you for seeing us so quickly.”

“What seems to be the issue…” He glanced at Ashley, then back at me. “Mrs. Beauregard?”

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