Page 32 of Fall Wherever They May

The laughter in the truck was contagious, pulling her out of her foul mood; it was good to finally see her laugh. I turn on the radio low enough where we can talk and hear each other over the music. Bruno Mars “That’s What I Like” plays through the Bose speakers as we drive down the highway to the next school.

“Ooh, this slaps! Can you turn it up?” Tuck asks. I reach over and turn up the volume.

Tuck begins singing, so I join him. Before I know it, we’re all singing at the top of our lungs. From the rearview mirror, I see Tucker bobbing his head as he sings out loud. Aspen and I look at each other singing the chorus in unison, shaking her shoulders, pointing to me then herself.

She tilts her head back and belts out the bridge of the song. With the music playing, I can barely hear her. I back off singing, so I can hear her voice better. Knowing it’s a dick move, but doing it anyway, when the bridge hits the high note, I press the mute button on my steering wheel. What? Don’t judge me. I want to hear her sing. I catch two words before she stops abruptly: like a record scratching. Her eyes widen in embarrassment. She covers her face. Tuck snickers from the back seat. She turns to me and smacks me on the arm, then turns the radio back on. “Ass!” Aspen mouths, so Tucker can’t hear her, coaxing a chuckle from my lips.

When we pull into the parking lot, I face her, putting on my most serious face. We lock eyes. “Okay, Firecracker. I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior in here.”

A laugh spills out of her. “Hey! She was being highly unprofessional.”

“That, she was.” I shake my head.

When I look up at the private school through my windshield, a deep foreboding feeling settles over me. The school is two stories and made of stone with a concrete archway. It looks more like an old orphanage you would see in movies than a school. We stroll through the front door with Tuck walking between us, chatting about the robotics class at Elija’s school. The hallway is long and narrow. A glass case of student accolades resides on the left, and the main office is situated on the right. The air is cold and smothering. No sounds come from the hallways or classrooms. No laughter. No talking.

“Good morning, I’m Mrs. Winston.” The headmistress greets us and shakes our hand at the entrance to the main office. Her handshake is soft, her hand cold and unwelcoming.

“Pleasure, I’m Mr. Miles and this is Miss Taylor, and this is Tucker Taylor.”

She purses her lips and looks between Aspen and Tuck. “The pleasure is mine.” She says, but it doesn’t sound like it’s a pleasure at all.

Maybe she is one of those no-nonsense-straight-to-the-point people. She leads us on the tour of the classrooms, followed by the gym, and then the cafeteria. Where the other institution appeared to have fun activities and felt welcoming, there doesn’t seem to be anything fun about this place. This school seems uninviting. Mrs. Winston reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite place it. She’s a thicker woman, her face mars fine lines, and she appears to be in her late forties, if I had to guess. Her hair is brown, peppered with streaks of gray, and is slicked back into a bun. She doesn’t seem pleasant or show any kindness towards Tuck. Actually, when he speaks, she seems put out. Once we are done with the tour, Aspen begins to ask questions.

Tuck turns to me and gestures for me to bend down. He whispers in my ear. “I’ve been looking for the chokey around every corner.” He wraps one hand around his neck like he’s choking himself. I frown at first, not understanding what he’s talking about, but then remember he and Elija were watching the movieMatildain the game room a couple of weeks ago. They roped me into watching the last half of it before we went skating. It’s then I realize that’s who this lady reminds me of. Mrs. Winston gives us a stern look when we begin to snicker.

“Do you have a PTA or PTO?” Aspen asks curiously.

“Yes. However, there is an impressive age gap between you and the other parents, so I am uncertain to how much you will have in common with them.”

“Excuse me?” I frown. “Can you explain to me what you just said to her?”

She is hesitant at first then she addresses me with directness. “Mr. Miles. You cannot fault me. The PTA acts as a liaison between the teacher, parents and community. Miss Taylor is young, and her lack of experience will most certainly cause a discord.”

My molars creak and I’m sure I just cracked one of my teeth with how hard my jaw is grinding. My vision darkens. As anger consumes me but I take a deep breath to reel it in.I don’t know why her words are affecting me so strongly. All I know is, I’m not giving this woman isn’t getting a second chance to offend Aspen, especially in front of Tuck. We’re done here.

“Aspen here are my keys, take Tuck to the truck, please. I would like to have a word with Ms. Trunchbull.”

Tuck snickers at the Matilda reference; though I’m sure he doesn’t understand the back handed comment this lady just made to his mother. It’s taking all my self-control to reign in my anger and not lose my shit in front of him.

“It’s fine, Cal. I’m used to it.” Aspen retorts.

It’s not fine. It shouldn’t be fine. Right now, I don’t want her on her best behavior. I want her to stand up for herself. The Aspen I know isn’t apprehensive when it comes to releasing her quick wit and smart-ass mouth. I’m sure she is used to the condescending comments from other people because she was a teen mom at one time. I’m also sure it’s probably an insecurity for her—she feels self-conscious about it.

Dangling my keys in front of her face, I say, “Truck. Now. Please.” She rolls her eyes and snatches the keys from my fingers.

“Come on, Buddy.” Aspen puts a hand on Tuck’s shoulder and guides him away.

“Thank God. I don’t like this place. It was giving me the heebie-jeebies,” Tuck says mirroring my thoughts.

I watch them walk down the hallway to make sure they’re both out of earshot before I speak. “I don’t need to explain anything to you, but your comment was asinine.” My jaw ticks. “I want you to understand your mistake so you can absolve yourself from making it again in the future. That woman you just spoke down to for being a young mother, is the sole owner of a multi-billion-dollar empire.She runs that organization like a tight ship, and very successfully, I might add. With a mere phone call, she can add this institution to her investment portfolio and fire your ass. So maybe you should think twice before you make the wrong assumption about someone.”I raise an eyebrow.

She nods. “My apologies, Mr. Miles.”

“I’m sure it goes without saying, but Tucker will not be attending this school.” I turn around and make my way through the corridor and out to the truck.

Once I’m in the truck I turn in my seat to face Aspen. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiles.

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