Feeling off balance, it took him a moment to focus on what the principal was saying.
“A number of parents forwarded me this.” She pushed a sheet of paper toward him.
Curious, he picked it up and glanced at the subject heading. From Victoria Hathaway?
“This is my sister-in-law’s email address. Vicki…” He trailed off, recalling how pleased he and Dee had been that Vicki and Bobby were getting along so well. During the past two family dinners, the kids had shut themselves in the study with no discernible bickering or tattling. Which should have been enough to make you suspicious, dummy. “Vicki has a cousin who must have helped her. She wouldn’t know how to send an email by herself.”
“Bobby Riggs, Dee’s son?” Shay nodded. “Earlier this week, I presented him with a trophy from the council-level science fair. Clearly a smart boy. It makes sense that Vicki would have dictated her letter—the punctuation and spelling are far above the normal first-grade level.”
With growing trepidation, Mark began to read.
My name is Victoria Hathaway. People call me Vicki. I am six years old and in the first grade at Woodside Elementary school. I am the only girl in my class who doesn’t have a mommy.
Mark’s heart stuttered. He’d known Vicki was growing more resentful of her single parent status, but seeing her unhappiness articulated like that on the paper in front of him… He was shocked that, instead of trying to talk to him more about it, she’d decided to share it with the population of Woodside! What had Bobby been thinking to help her with this?
My daddy is Mark Hathaway. He is a good man, but a not so good cook. My mom went to heaven. He needs a new wife, but he never ever goes on dates.
Was it possible to keep one’s face from turning red through sheer force of will? He kept his gaze locked on the humiliating paper in his hand and away from the lovely blonde who watched him silently.
I think my dad is shy. Can you help us? It will be Valentine’s Day soon, and he is very lonely. If you are a lady who is not too old and don’t already have a husband, maybe you could be Daddy’s valentine. Please let him know if you would like him. He is gone at the store a lot, but he is fun when he is home. It would also be good if you have a dog. I really want one. But not as much as I want a mom.
Thank you,
Victoria Kathryn Hathaway
Mark was mortified. And aching for his daughter. And fully prepared to ground both her and her cousin for the rest of their natural lives. Well, she had tried to warn him that morning. Don’t worry, Daddy, I have a plan. He was flooded with reactions, from grudging admiration of his daughter’s problem-solving ingenuity—hell, maybe she could help brainstorm ideas on how to save the store—to renewed anger that his wife had been taken from them so young.
He heard his own rusty chuckle. In his struggle to formulate a response, he’d unconsciously chosen laughter. “Maybe I could just get her a puppy?”
“I’m not sure making jokes is the best way to handle this,” the principal countered gently. “Your daughter obviously—”
“Have you even met my daughter?” he asked. Mark wasn’t normally rude, but he was still reeling at the idea of Vicki feeling so desperate that she’d taken action behind his back. He always read the weekly notes from her teacher, Mrs. Frost, and Lord knew he’d listened to hours of advice from Dee because he accepted that his sister-in-law had Vicki’s best interests at heart. But he resented the condescending tone from a woman who might not even recognize Vicki if she saw her.
Shay squared her shoulders, rigid in her chair. “I go into all of the classrooms, occasionally reading stories to the kids or picking a table to have lunch with, but no, I have not been individually introduced to your daughter. And, before you ask, no, I don’t have any children of my own. What I do have are years of classroom experience working with kids and a Master of Education. I may be younger than Principal Ridenour, but I assure you I’m qualified for my job.”
Mark shoved a hand through his hair, aware that he’d botched this meeting so far. “Of course you are, Ms. Morgan. I apologize. I got defensive because this is personal.”
Her posture eased slightly, but her expression didn’t soften. “I understand why you would feel that way, but this email was sent to everyone on the PTA mailing list. I haven’t spoken to Vicki yet, or her aunt, for that matter. I wanted to make sure that you, as the responsible parent, were fully aware of the situation first. But I am going to send out a concise email addressing the situation.”
In other words, Mark translated, his “personal” matter had become quite public.
“Before we call her into the office, though,” the principal added, “I wanted to talk with you for a few minutes. Are you aware that there’s a community support group for single parents that meets in the school cafeteria the first and third Wednesday nights of every month?”
“I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I’m not going to give up another night with my daughter. Tuesday evenings she has ballet, and Friday, inventory at the store sometimes goes pretty late, so—”
“That would be the store mentioned in Vicki’s letter, when she says you’re away a lot? Mr. Hathaway, as someone who’s never been married, I can’t know precisely what it’s like to lose a spouse. But I realize it must be very difficult for you and Vicki. Maybe this wasn’t so much a plea for a new mom as a cry for more attention.”
“Vicki knows how much I love her.” Doesn’t she? “I tell her every single day. She’s the most… She’s my world, Ms. Morgan.” He recalled a promise he’d made to Jess, when they’d known how little time she’d had left. He’d told her that he’d love Vicki enough for both of them. Was he failing?
“I don’t doubt that.” Radiating sympathy, the principal laid her hand atop his on the table. Then she blinked, as if she were as surprised by the physical contact as he was. She withdrew immediately. “Maybe it would help if you supplemented your words with actions, with your time. The first-grade classes have already been on a couple of field trips this year. Were you able to chaperone any of those?”
“I have a store to run.” This woman had no idea what kind of pressure he was under to keep the place afloat and to keep Vicki here in Braeden. Was he really being condemned as a bad father because he hadn’t accompanied a bunch of six-year-olds to a petting zoo?
“You also have a daughter who needs you,” she said. “There are numerous studies that show how much a child benefits, both emotionally and academically, when a parent is able to volunteer at the school.”
Those studies weren’t going to pay his mortgage. But he tamped down the sarcasm. If his showing up for the occasional field trip would help Vicki, he’d find a way to do it. But it seemed that Ms. Morgan had even bigger ideas.
She handed him a blue folder. “That contains information on different ways you can get involved in the classroom. We’re always in need of parental support for our activities. Our fall book fair, normally a week long, only ran three days this year because we couldn’t staff all of the available shifts. And the Campside Girls who’ve traditionally had their weekly troop meetings here had to disband this year because they couldn’t find a leader.”
“A shame,” he muttered. “I would have been happy to give the troop discounts on
