him in Mr. Matthews’ class. He’s a young teacher, and boys seem to relate well with him.” Mrs. Travis fingered Danny’s transcripts. “Danny’s file indicates he can be a handful. I think Mr. Matthews will be up to the task.”
I knew why Ray brought the documents over here himself yesterday. He didn’t want me to read the kid’s transcript. Did he think a twelve-year-old could scare me?
On second thought, Erica at ten had been pretty frightening.
Mrs. Travis didn’t seem to notice my involuntary shudder. She kept right on talking as though I was the natural choice to fulfill Danny’s needs. “This is the list of supplies we require for fifth graders. It would be helpful if Danny could bring them on his first day.”
Maybe she and Ray saw something in me that I didn’t. In any case, I was in no shape to argue with either of them, or Danny, for that matter. I rose and picked up my purse. “We’re going shopping now. He’ll be ready to go on Monday.”
The principal shook my hand again and wished us well. I stepped into the hall outside her office, but didn’t see Danny. I headed to the left down the hallway in search of him, the click from my dress boot heels echoing off the walls.
I glanced into the classrooms filled with hard-at-work children. At the next hall, I gave up and turned back only to find Danny standing three yards behind me. “There you are. Are you ready to go?”
He nodded and took off at a fast clip. I had to hustle to keep up with him.
The hour drive to the nearest shopping mecca passed without a word from Danny. I commented on how nice the principal seemed and tried to talk up his new teacher. Danny turned his face to the window. I chalked up his silence to natural apprehension about new people and places.
I found a barbershop that catered to sports enthusiasts with televisions tuned to the games while stylists did their magic. Danny didn’t express any opinions as to how he would like his hair cut, so I asked the woman to give him a popular cut. His hair ended up covering his ears but not his face. Now I could see he was quite a handsome little fellow with high cheekbones and eyes like a mournful puppy dog. His right cheek had a nick in it the size of a pinhead just underneath his eye.
He picked Wendy’s for lunch, but refused to make any sort of conversation, despite my half-hearted efforts. I picked Wal-Mart for shopping. He picked dark-wash jeans and T-shirts with motorcycles on them. Boxers, not briefs, and white crew socks. Pajamas with sports themes. The dark blue parka I picked seemed satisfactory to him. He refused a hat, mittens, or boots, even though I pointed out the snowfall predicted for Thanksgiving Day.
I read the school supply list while he selected the items off the shelf, showing a preference for all things blue and red, especially a red backpack. When we moved to the linen aisle, he selected a twin bed quilt with a sports theme. I got him all the accessories to match. We did all this with minimal conversation. Sometimes I received only a jerk of his head in reply to my questions. I attributed this to his being twelve years old and a boy, who had to shop for his new underwear and sheets with a strange woman.
We bought a bedroom set at a store that promised “zoom delivery” the very next day and no payment for a year, the only kind of furniture I knew for sure we could afford. He liked the walnut. So did I. He picked out sky blue paint at Sherwin-Williams. I was okay with that, too. But Ray would have to roll it over the pink I’d lovingly painted on Noelle’s walls. My heart would break if I had to do it myself.
All in all, I considered it a good day. I planted Danny in front of the television when we got home, put the leftover lasagna in the oven, and debated calling Cory. I decided in favor of the nap I’d been craving instead. Cory and I had agreed yesterday that I would return to work full-time next week. This would be a slow week, given the holiday.
The phone rang as my head touched the pillow.
“Mrs. Parker, this is Mrs. Travis. We met this morning at school.”