“Do you think she can?” Emmy leaned back, and for the first time he got a good look at her.
He felt so sorry for Emmy. How could Steph do this to her daughter?
“Yes, it can be fixed. And I’m so sorry your mom did that to you, sweetheart.” Jon hugged her close again.
“She deserved it for screaming at me.” Steph stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed on Emmy and filled with rage. “Now you’ve made me take time off work to come down here because you’re being a big crybaby.” Steph had never spoken to Emmy so coldly.
At least, not in his presence.
“That’s enough.” Jon couldn’t believe Steph’s behavior.
“Why don’t we take this to another room?” Pam suggested. “Perhaps your friend can stay with Emmy, Mr. Crawford.”
Emmy had buried her face in his neck again and clung to him with all her might.
He turned and whispered in her ear, “Is it okay if I hand you off to Trinity while I talk to your mom?”
Emmy immediately turned and held her arms out to Trinity, who took her into her arms and held her just the way Jon had done.
“There now, my sweet girl. We’ll just sit right here and catch our breath.” Trinity sat on the sofa with Emmy on her lap and wrapped around her.
“Why are we even here? Send her back to class.” Steph blocked the doorway.
He walked right up to her. “Let’s take this outside.” He didn’t want Emmy to overhear their raised voices, because right now he couldn’t find the calm to speak in a civil tone.
Steph quickly backed away.
Pam went out with her.
He went back to Trinity and Emmy and kissed both of them on the head, then stared down at Trinity. “I’m so glad you came with me.”
“I’ve got her. Go deal with . . . that.”
Jon touched Emmy’s arm. She flinched, and that made him even sadder. “I’m going to make sure your mom doesn’t do something like this ever again.”
Emmy didn’t acknowledge that at all. He didn’t know if she believed him or not. But he wouldn’t let this go unanswered.
He found Steph, Pam, and a man standing outside, closer to the parking lot than the door. Good.
“Mrs. Crawford,” the man implored.
And Jon set him straight. “She’s not Mrs. Crawford.” Emmy had his last name, so it was a good assumption for the guy to think Steph and he had once been married. “We were never married.” Thank God.
Pam made the introductions. “Mr. Crawford, Miss Brown, this is Principal Fields. I’ve asked him to join us to discuss what’s been happening with Emmy.”
“She’s fine.” Steph stood defiant with her arms crossed and her head high, wearing the grocery store polo and jeans.
Jon didn’t think Emmy was even close to fine, and he wanted to hear what the school had to say about it. “What exactly has been happening with Emmy at school?” He’d start there and get to Steph and what happened this morning.
Principal Fields took the lead now. “Emmy is late to school every day of the week, except Mondays.” He gave Jon a direct look.
Jon easily made the connection. “In other words, she’s only on time the day I drop her off.”
“Well,” Steph started, “if she’d cooperate in the morning, we wouldn’t be late.”
“You are also late picking her up more days of the week than you do on time,” the principal pointed out.
“I’m a single working mother.” That explained nothing.
“You get off at four thirty. You live five minutes away from here. You shouldn’t ever be late.” Jon dared her to contradict him with a look.
She glared at him. “Sometimes I have to work late. I am the manager.”
“We’ve been lenient up until now.” The principal’s voice held a warning. He was losing patience with Steph and her callous attitude.
Jon felt the same way. “In other words, pick her up on time, Steph.”
She rolled her eyes.
Pam tried for a calmer tactic. “Children do best on a schedule. That way they aren’t anxious about what’s going to happen. When you’re late, she worries that she’s been forgotten.”
That hit Jon right in the chest.
Poor Emmy. He didn’t want to imagine her watching all her friends get picked up and taken home on time while she sat there waiting on her mother, wondering if she’d even bother to show up.
Principal Fields continued with what he thought they needed to hear. “When children lose interest in school and act out in class, it’s usually because of issues at home. They aren’t getting the guidance and attention they need.”
“She’s acting out in class?” This was starting to sound like what had happened back in California.
Apparently, all he’d done was move the problem from one state to another.
“She argues with her classmates and teacher, she doesn’t always complete her packet work, and she’s even thrown a few tantrums that disrupt the class to the point her teacher has to send her to the office for a time-out.” Principal Fields looked from him to Steph and back. “The question is, what is happening at home that is upsetting Emmy so much she can’t concentrate in class? Perhaps it’s an issue one of our school counselors can assist you in identifying and rectifying for Emmy’s benefit.”
Steph threw up her hands and let them drop. “She doesn’t listen to me. She complains about everything. She won’t do what I say.”
Pam turned to him. “Is that your experience with Emmy as well, Mr. Crawford?”
He held Steph’s gaze. “No. It’s not. She’s a good girl. Smart. Kind. Funny. We have fun together, but she does her chores and any homework she brings home on Friday, though the teacher doesn’t usually assign any for the weekend.”
“Yeah, you get the easy gig, playing with her all weekend. I get the hard stuff.”
Pre-K homework was hard? Getting her up, dressed, fed, and to school on time was hard? Picking her up, feeding her, doing basic skills homework, bathing her, and putting her to bed on time was too much?
He could rectify that very easily.
“You and I will discuss that later. What I want to know right now is what happened specifically this morning.”
Steph frowned and glared at all of them. “Of course, I’m the bad guy.”
“Our daughter’s hair is a mess. What happened? Why would you do that to her?”
Steph unfolded her arms and shoved her fisted hands down until her arms were rigid at her sides. “Because she deserved it.”
“Our four-year-old deserved to have her hair chopped off and to be humiliated in front of her classmates? One of them called her ugly.”
“Well, she was acting that way this morning.” Steph raked her fingers through her hair and pulled it away from her face. She shifted from one foot to the other, clearly agitated and upset. “Her hair is too long. It’s always a mess.” She pinned him in her gaze. “You’re always on my case about making her hair look nice.”
“It’s not that hard to brush it and put some of those clip things in to keep it out of her face.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what you think. It’s like a rat’s nest in the morning when she wakes up. I tried to brush it this morning, but it was all in tangles.”