Brayden: Tell him I said hi back and thank you. He should come to my next game. I’ll see you Wednesday. Love you too, Dad.
Derrick cocked his head and nodded toward my phone.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just texting with Brayden. He says you should come to his next game.”
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow at three. His school is hosting a tournament this weekend.”
“I’ll try to make it.”
“I know he’d love that.”
Gretchen set her glass on the bar and asked, “Is Brayden your son?”
“He is.” I hesitated to expound, in case she knew of my son and put together the name. Still, in the interest of not being a liar… “He goes to Lancastle Middle, too. But his English teacher is Mr. Wetherbee.”
“Wayne is a good teacher.”
“That’s good to know. I guess his grade isn’t so great.”
“He should take advantage of the after-school tutoring. It’s free.”
“Isn’t that what you do on Tuesdays?” Laura asked her.
“Yeah.” Gretchen turned her attention back toward me. “But it’s offered every day, Monday through Thursday. All he has to do is show up at the library after school.”
I shook my head. “He has lacrosse practice after school.”
“Well, his grades must be good enough if he’s still eligible to play.”
“Good point. His mom hasn’t said anything, so they must not be too bad.”
I’m sure if it was, Becky would find a way to blame me for my son’s failing grades. She’d probably try to argue that coming to my house on Wednesday evenings for a few hours was the root cause. She already bitched that being at my house in the middle of the week “disrupted their schedule too much,” so I’d agreed to take them home instead of having them sleep at my house.
“Are you a teacher, too?” Derrick asked Laura as he set another drink in front of her.
“Hell no. I like money, thanks.” She took a sip then continued, “Besides, I’d probably last one week before telling an enabling parent to stop making excuses for their snot-nosed kid’s bad behavior and do something about it.”
I felt my eyebrows go up, and I looked at Gretchen.
“Are parents really that bad?”
Laura answered on her friend’s behalf. “She has horror stories.”
“They’re nothorrorstories.”
Laura scoffed. “Remember Rob Bennett?” She directed her next words at me. “The guy emailed herthreetimes a day the entire semester, making excuse after excuse about why hiskid couldn’t do any work—in class or at home.Thenhe tried to get Gretchen in trouble for trying to hold his kid accountable.”
I shook my head. “What a dick. I couldn’t do what you do.”
“That was at my old school. Fortunately, the administration at Lancastle is better about protecting the teachers. They would never allow a parent to treat me that way.”
I was glad to learn that. I didn’t like the idea of entitled parents abusing her while the powers that be did nothing about it.
“We want our kids accountable for their choices, so it’s good to know Lancastle Schools shares that philosophy.”
