Happy to Have You

Sheryl shifted in the hard plastic chair. The pleasantries were over and the business of report cards and progress reports concluded without any great surprise. A glance to her watch told her there were two minutes left until she had to vacate the chair for the next parent. Okay, Mom, she thought to herself. Time for the hard part. She took in a long breath, then asked the question.

"Is Amica getting along with the other kids?"

Mrs. Coolidge tilted her head very slightly in the way elementary school teachers do to ensure their concern is tangible. "Sure, she is, as far as I can tell. Why do you ask?"

Sheryl let go the rest of her breath and her eyes dropped to the desk for a moment before she regained the courage to look the other woman in the face. "Well, she says the other kids... talk. About her, I mean."

"Oh?" The teacher leaned in with interest. "What do they say?"

"She hasn't shared anything specific with me," Sheryl admitted, "but she says the kids look at her and whisper to each other. I'm sure it's nothing serious," she added hastily.

"I'm sure," Mrs. Coolidge agreed. She folded her hands on the desk in front of her. "It's not uncommon for the arrival of a 'new kid' to stir up some cliquish behavior, and it's especially easy to perceive in a school of this size. In the big city schools, I've heard, there are enough in-groups for a newbie to find themselves a place. Around here, each class is its own little family. It can take time for a newcomer to assimilate."

Sheryl nodded as the teacher spoke, and, finding nothing equally insightful to reply, nodded a moment or two after she'd finished speaking. "But what do you say to an 8-year-old who knows she's the subject of gossip?"

The older woman smiled kindly. "You know your daughter best. Maybe you tell her the other kids are just curious about her, or maybe you tell her about a time you went through something similar." Mrs. Coolidge retrieved a flyer from the inside of her desk as if she'd been waiting for the right moment to do so. "And we have a 'Bring Your Parent to School Day' coming up. That might be a nice opportunity to model some friend-making behavior and break the ice with the other parents, don't you think?"

Sheryl stood as she accepted the flyer, recognizing it as the signal that her time was up. "That sounds nice," she said, really thinking about it.

Mrs. Coolidge rose and escorted Sheryl to the classroom door. "We'll be happy to have you."

---

"Do you have to?" Amica asked without looking up from her homework.

"Uh-oh." Sheryl did look up from pot of Kraft mac and cheese. "Are you too cool to be seen with Mom already?"

Amica smiled a little. "No, it's not that."

"Thank goodness." Sheryl resumed stirring the pasta, willing the butter to melt faster. "So, why not? Wouldn't it be weird to be the only one without a parent on Parents' Day?"

"Maybe, but, like..." Amica shrugged. "If the kids are talking about me, won't the other moms be talking about you?"

Sheryl busied herself filling a bowl of mac and cheese to give herself time to think. She was careful to keep the chunk of unmelted butter in the pot. It made sense; kids learn to gossip by watching their adults. She walked the food over to her daughter, leaving the butter to its own devices.

"They might," said Sheryl, "but I can take it." She put an arm around Amica. "People talk, especially when they don't know the whole story. They like to guess and use their imaginations. There were a few unkind stories floating around when your father died and when I decided to move us out here. It's not okay, but it's not unexpected." She gave her kid a squeeze. "We know we're good people. We'll just have to show them, together."

Amica made a face that said she wasn't fully convinced, but she returned the hug. "Sure, we will."

---

By the time the lunch bell rang on "Bring Your Parent to School Day," Sheryl was starting to relax. She was half surprised that the morning had been so uneventful. There were a few stares, but they seemed more curious than cold. Remembering Mrs. Coolidge's tip about modeling social behavior, Sheryl treated every stare she caught as an opportunity to introduce herself. The other mothers -- she supposed the men folk were at work, being in a traditional American "small town" -- had been cordial, and some even friendly.

But just as she began to question whether she'd been wrong to expect a uncomfortable reception, the pair found themselves alone at a lunch table. Sheryl realized her mistake; they were the first to sit down, and no one after her had chosen to join them. The in-group arranged itself at neighboring tables, leaving Sheryl and Amica alone to one side. Was it too late to find another spot? Or would inserting themselves just draw attention?

Sheryl glanced at Amica. The girl munched on her sandwich with her head down, and a somewhat dark expression on her face, but her eyes focused on another table. Following her gaze, she saw that Amica was locked in a staring contest with another girl. Sheryl sighed, realizing the other girl was subtly mocking the way Amica ate her sandwich with an exaggerated, wide-eyed look. Yep, there it is, she thought. Suspicions, confirmed.

A moment later, the other girl's mother caught on and responded by elbowing her kid, signaling, "knock it off!" Sheryl couldn't hear the hushed conversation that followed, but it looked like a scolding. She caught the mother's eye and gave a big "thank you" smile. The woman returned the smile and gathered her lunch. To Sheryl's surprise, she joined them.

"Oh, you don't have to --" Sheryl began.

"No, don't worry about it. I'm Beth, and I am so sorry you had to see that. Hailey should know better." She turned her head to check on Hailey, who was already deep in conversation with a friend, trying to ignore her mother. "But I guess she was only three when we found ourselves here. She wouldn't remember what it's like to be new."

"Kids will be kids." It was the first thing to pop into Sheryl's head while she processed the new information.

Amica swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. "Did they talk about you behind your back, too?"

Sheryl was startled by the direct question, but Beth answered before she could react.

"I'm sure they did. But don't assume all the talk is bad." Beth placed a reassuring hand on Sheryl's forearm. "We're happy to have you."

---

The afternoon was filled with games and races in the school gym. The physical activity made it easier Sheryl and Amica to forget their anxieties for a while, or at least put them on the back-burner. The fast-paced, in-the-moment nature of the games left little room for the kids to think about social dynamics. It was simply time to play, and time to cooperate. The mothers had a blast, too, even though they could barely keep up with the kids.

As the final bell approached, there were snacks and drinks, as well as time to sit and catch their breaths. Mrs. Coolidge filled the time with end-of-day announcements.

"And before we go," she looked around to make sure she had everyone's attention, "I'd like to formally welcome Amica and her mother, Sheryl, into our little community." She waved them over for handshakes and hugs while the obligatory applause came and went. "And now, let us pray."

"Oh," Sheryl said without meaning to. She hadn't expected any religious customs in the school environment. It was a public school. But this was a very small, very conservative little town, so perhaps this was just "normal."

The women and girls formed a circle around Sheryl and Amica, joining hands. Amica nervously clung to her mother's arm. Neither of them knew what to expect. Sheryl found Beth and shrugged to indicate she was totally lost. Beth smiled and winked reassuringly.

"Our Father," Mrs. Coolidge began, "dear Father of our church and Lord of our land. Be present with us here, today, so that our new sisters and daughters may know your love."

The circle raised their hands, still joined, and began to recite a prayer in an unfamiliar language. It could have been Latin, but Sheryl wouldn't have recognized it. Things were getting weird, fast. Amica squeezed her mother and stared at the floor, trying not to panic.

As the chant droned on, the lights in the gym dimmed. Sheryl noticed for the first time that the gym didn't have traditional windows. The windows were comprised of thick, frosty glass squares that distorted the light. She couldn't be sure, but it seemed like the sky outside dimmed as well.

The prayer shifted to a call-and-response. Wind circled through the room. Wind from where? A strange, cloudy hole began to open in the air above them. Through the hole came sounds of thunder and other rumblings like a storm brewing on the wrong side of the atmosphere. Sheryl and Amica dropped to the floor and huddled together. Sheryl could feel her daughter crying for help, though she couldn't hear her. She hoped Amica could feel her unheard reassurances. We'll be okay, baby. Whatever this is, we'll do this together.

The noise grew louder until the praying voices were a far-away whisper. Time slowed, and Sheryl felt as if the world fell away around her. She mustered the courage to raise her eyes. Starry eyes glared back at her through the portal. For an instant, the eyes seemed to be in the face of her husband, but the vision vanished as quickly as it had come. There were only the eyes somewhere amid the black clouds.

Sound stopped. A deep, otherworldly voice filled the silence: "I. Am. Happy. To. Have. You."