though Jane were recently bereaved, and for a moment Jane struggled to recall her recent bereavement.
Oh, the petition of course. The whole school thought her child was a bully. That. Whatever. Tom isn’t gay!
“We’re meeting before school on Monday morning, right?” said Miss Barnes. “I assume it’s about the . . . issue.”
She put air quotes around the word “issue.”
“Yes,” said Jane. “Something I need to tell you. I won’t talk about it now.” She kept seeing Celeste in the distance with her husband, but she hadn’t even gotten to say hello yet.
“I’m dressed as Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, by the way,” said Miss Barnes resentfully. She gestured at her outfit. “She made other movies besides Breakfast at Tiffany’s, you know.”
“I knew exactly who you were,” said Jane.
“Anyway, this bullying thing has gotten out of control,” said Miss Barnes. She stopped enunciating and let her words flow in a slurred, sloppy rush. “Every day I’m getting e-mails from parents concerned about bullying. I think there’s a roster. It’s constant. ‘We need to be sure our children are in a safe environment,’ and then some of them do this passive-aggressive thing: ‘I know you’re under-resourced, Miss Barnes, so do you need more parent helpers? I am available to come in on Wednesday afternoons at one p.m.’ And then if I don’t answer straightaway, ‘Miss Barnes, I have not yet heard back from you regarding my offer,’ and of course they fucking cc Mrs. Lipmann on everything.”
Miss Barnes sucked on the straw of her empty glass. “Sorry for swearing. Kindergarten teachers shouldn’t swear. I never swear in front of the children. Just in case you’re thinking of making an official complaint.”
“You’re off duty,” said Jane. “You can say what you want.” She took a small step back because Miss Barnes’s hat kept banging against Jane’s head as she talked. Where was Tom? There he was, surrounded by a cluster of adoring Audreys.
“Off duty? I’m never off duty. Last year my ex-boyfriend and I went to Hawaii and we walked into the foyer of the hotel, and I hear this cute little voice saying, ‘Miss Barnes! Miss Barnes!’ and my heart sank like a stone. It was the kid who had just given me the most grief over the whole last term and he was staying at the same hotel! And I had to pretend to be happy to see him! And play with him in the fucking pool! The parents lay on their deck chairs, smiling benevolently, as if they were doing me a wonderful favor! My boyfriend and I broke up on the holiday and I blame that kid. Do not tell anyone I said that. Those parents are here tonight. Oh my God, promise me you’ll never tell anyone I said that.”
“I promise,” said Jane. “On my life.”
“Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, the e-mails. But that’s not all. They keep turning up!” said Miss Barnes. “The parents! At any time! Renata has taken a leave of absence from work so she can do random checks on Amabella, even though we’ve got the teacher’s aide who does nothing but observe Amabella. I mean, fair enough, I never saw what was going on, and I feel bad about that. But it’s not just Renata! I’ll be in the middle of doing some activity with the kids and suddenly I’ll look up and there’s a parent at the door, just watching me. It’s creepy. It’s like I’m being stalked.”
“It sounds like harassment to me,” said Jane. “Oops— Just watch. There you go.” She gently pushed Miss Barnes’s hat out of her face. “Do you want another drink? You look like you could use another drink.”
“I’m at Pirriwee Drugstore on the weekend,” said Miss Barnes, “because I’ve got a terrible urinary tract infection—I’m seeing someone new, anyway, sorry, too much information—and I’m standing at the counter, waiting, and all of a sudden Thea Cunningham is standing at my side, and honestly, I didn’t even hear her say hello before she launches into this story of how Violet was so upset after school the other day because Chloe told her that her hair clips didn’t match. Well, they didn’t match. I mean, for God’s sake, that’s not bullying! That’s kids being kids! But oh no, Violet was so wounded by this, and could I please talk to the whole class about speaking nicely to one another, and . . . I’m sorry, I just saw Mrs. Lipmann giving me a death