“I got a feeling I was preaching to the choir today, Beth.”
I shrug, glancing at Angelica and Diane, who are doing their best to hightail it out of there.
“I know some of the things I say will seem obvious,” Margaret continues in a gentle tone. “But they’re still important to reiterate.”
I shrug again, because I don’t know how to respond. I feel like the naughty kid being kept after school. Angelica has already slouched out of the room, and Diane is sidling past us with a nervous smile. Why did I merit singling out? It wasn’t as if those two were stellar students.
“Anyway,” Margaret says with another smile, “I just wanted to reassure you that we will move on next week to some topics that might feel a bit more practical and relevant.”
“Okay, thanks,” I mutter, and then I follow Diane out the door, breathing a sigh of relief. One down, nine more to go.
Twilight is already settling over the town as I wait at the bus stop, hugging myself because the day has developed that sharp, wintry coldness that comes in a New England November, always seeming to take me by surprise. One minute it’s all golden sunshine and autumn leaves; the next you’re freezing your butt off and everything looks gray, like the color has been leached out of the world. The next bus isn’t due for fifteen minutes; I’m not going to get home till five-thirty at the earliest, not that I have anywhere to be.
“Hey, where are you headed?”
I blink in surprise at the car that has slowed down in front of the bus stop—a big, shiny white SUV. Diane is in the driver’s seat, smiling uncertainly at me.
“West Hartford,” I say, unsure why she wants to know. “Near the town center.”
“I’ll give you a ride if you want. I live in Simsbury.”
“Oh…” I’m so surprised that I just stare at her for a moment. Judging by her nervy manner in the class, I didn’t expect her to be friendly. “Okay,” I say. “Thanks.”
I open the passenger door and slide into the leather interior, realizing at the last second that Diane might be a serial killer and I’m her next victim.
“I love West Hartford,” she says as she pulls back onto the street and heads towards the highway. “The town center is so cute.”
“Yeah, it’s really nice.” I feel a bit more relaxed. She looks so normal, with her button-down blouse and artfully tied scarf. She can’t be a serial killer. But why is she having to take the Triple P course, Level Four? She hardly seems like the type, but then I didn’t think I was, either.
“So.” Diane flexes her hands on the steering wheel. “You’re probably wondering why I’m taking that course.”
I can’t keep from letting out a little laugh because, of course, that is exactly what I’ve been wondering. “Well, yeah,” I admit. Then I ask bluntly, “Have you wondered why I am?” I’m afraid she might say no, that I look exactly like the kind of bad mother who would end up in a class like that, but she nods and shrugs at the same time.
“Yes, I mean… I suppose on some level everyone should take a parenting course, right? It doesn’t always come naturally. At least it didn’t to me.”
It did to me, I think, but don’t say. But I can’t remember a moment’s doubt after I held Dylan in my arms. Being with him felt as natural as breathing, even when it was hard. I never doubted myself, never thought I was doing it wrong, although I certainly worried about all the things out there that could hurt him—all the dangers he would face. But isn’t that what a loving mother does?
“My son Peter is adopted,” Diane says. She is staring straight ahead as she navigates onto I-91. “I got him when he was five, from Georgia. The country, not the state.”
“Okay,” I say after a moment. I’m not sure what response she’s looking for.
“He’d been in an orphanage since he was a baby. I’m sure you’ve read about what they’re like.” She shakes her head. “Horrible places. They just… leave the kids in cribs, crying all day. They don’t even change their diapers. I’m sure not every place is like that, and I know they’re understaffed and all that, but… it was terrible.”
“I’m sorry.” That doesn’t seem like the right response, but again I’m not sure what is.
“The thing is, you can realize all that and it still doesn’t