No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown) (7 page)

Forget Peaches. Forget
Stelson. I was not Martha Stewart or June Cleaver. I was
LaShondra Smith
Brown
. LaShondra was a good wife and good mother, and I wasn’t going to let
anybody make me feel bad about wanting it all.

I closed my fist tight around the dream
of having it all and refused to let it go.

“Hey.”

“Yes. Who is this?” I asked.

“This is Taylor Austin. I’m
from the Mommy-coo service.”

“You mean Mother’s Chief of
Operations service?” I corrected this girl.

She smacked, “Same thing. I’m
calling for my…um…’nitial nanny phone interview.”

“This interview is over.”
Call me picky, but I would have liked for my children’s nanny to at least sound
like she’d graduated from high school.

The previous potential nanny
had sounded intelligent enough, but when she’d asked me to hold on, she’d
failed to properly mute her phone. I heard her cuss somebody out with expert
diction and a fine choice of escalating insults.

Hung up before she knew I was
gone.

Obviously, I was using the
wrong service. Or perhaps God was allowing me to see people’s true colors ahead
of time. I couldn’t decide if it would be better to hire someone with a small,
apparent flaw or choose the “perfect” one and find out later that she’d been a
rat all along.

If we were talking about a
personal trainer or even a teacher, I could live with being fooled for a month
or a year. My babies were a different story. Finding out I’d been snowed
after-the-fact wasn’t an option.

Back to the drawing board and
on to Seth’s school.

After the first few days of
pre-k, I was able to drop him off without a blur of tears—my tears. By
Thursday, he had the drop-off routine under control. He’d unhook his car seat,
hop out of the car, strap on his little backpack, and run inside without even
looking back.

Every effort was made to
preserve my mascara as I drove to the school on autopilot.
It’s almost like
he doesn’t need me anymore.
I merged into traffic on the farm to market
road as my brain shifted from Mommy-mode to VP-mode.

Thankfully, I was needed at
Plainview High School. The counselors were busy leveling classes while sifting
through a ton of schedule change requests, while the administrators did what we
could to keep it all running smoothly.
Ask Marty if it would help to put one
of the aides in Mayfield’s classroom.

New students were still enrolling,
and the troublemakers who had been released back into the general population
were already working on their return trips to RightWay.
See if the Watson
girl has ever been tested for an emotional disorder.

Jerry and I were
compassionate to an extent. Kids are kids. Yet, those who disrespected teachers
and disrupted the learning atmosphere met with serious consequences. After two
or three parent conferences and a few suspensions, we turned them over to the
disciplinary experts at RightWay. Some kids actually fared better in a
structured environment with very little peer interaction. Whatever. I just knew
they couldn’t stay on
my
campus and keep up all that foolywang.
Find
out who the new secretary is at RightWay.

Fast forward to thoughts of
what we would eat for dinner. I’d forgotten to take out the chicken.
Boston
Market.

The morning hadn’t even
started, and already I was yawning as I took my rightful parking spot. I
grabbed the computer bag from the passenger’s floorboard.

“Hhhhh. Hhhhh. Hhhhhwaaa.”

My God!

I quickly turned toward the
sound in my back seat.
Zoe!
In my haste, my rush to leave the house, the
new routine, my tiredness, I had failed to take her to daycare. Worse, I was
about to leave her locked in my car on a hot August day.

My God! What would have
happened if…

Suddenly, visions of news
stories where babies had died in hot cars—forgotten in back seats or
unaccounted for on field trips—flashed through my mind. This row of cars
was already filled. There would have been no one casually walking by to see or
hear my baby inside crying, suffocating in the stifling Texas heat.
Jesus!
Thank you!

Tears streamed down my face
as I fumbled out my door and to the back seat of the car to retrieve my baby. I
pulled her from the carrier straps and held her in my arms, rocking back and
forth in the back seat kissing her pudgy round cheeks relentlessly.

What if Zoe hadn’t made a
sound?

I stared into her gray eyes.
She stared back at me, puzzled. Another round of tears sprang forth as I imagined
what could have happened. Her life cut short. My beautiful baby gone forever.
All because I was too distracted, too busy to focus from point A to point B?

Thank you, Lord.

I didn’t even go inside the
building. From the car, I called Jerry. Told him—not asked—
told
him that I was taking a leave of absence.

“LaShondra, I don’t
understand,” he puttered.

“The other week, when we
talked about how hard it is to balance work and this job. I should have told
you then. I’m sorry. But I can’t do it anymore. Not for a while, anyway. Maybe
you can still get the candidate we declined.”

Jerry stuttered, “B-b-but, we’ve
got Natalie. We’ve got help. Your responsibilities—”

“I almost left my baby in the
car
,” I blurted out, my voice filled with emotion as my composure
crumpled. I was breaking all kinds of professional rules, but I needed Jerry to
feel me on this. “If Zoe hadn’t started crying, I would have left her inside.
And then…then…I’d be…planning a funeral, losing my mind.”

“You left her in the
car
?”
he asked, ridicule lacing his tone. “I mean…I’m sorry, LaShondra. I didn’t know
you were so stressed.”

I sniffed. “Well, I am.”

“Maybe we could work
something out. Four-day weeks,” Jerry practically begged.

Zoe flapped my nose with her
hand. Her smile, a reward in itself, propelled my response. “No. I’m heading
over to H-R. Please ask Millicent to pack up my office.”

“I have to warn you,
LaShondra. This will
not
look good in your file.”

“How would it look if I were
in jail and you were accused of failure to recognize that one of your employees
was cracking up?” I flipped the table.

Jerry exhaled. “Fine. I’ll
let Dr. Hunt know you’re on your way.”

Of course, I knew Dr. Hunt
from my previous involuntary leave of absence, when I was investigated for
showing disciplinary leniency in favor of African-American students in my
Junior High assistant principal days. The whole thing was a setup, really, but
in accordance with policy, I’d been placed on administrative leave during the
investigation.

This time, we’d be meeting on
different grounds.

I dropped Zoe off at
preschool. While there, I picked up the center’s brochure to acquaint myself
with part-time and drop-in rates. Thankfully, no one asked me why Zoe was late
or I would have gone into another crying spell.

Dr. Hunt was expecting me.
Her secretary sent me toward a larger office.

“LaShondra. Good to see you
again.” She remembered me.

“Same here, Dr. Hunt. How
have you been?”

“Counting down the days to
retirement,” she gave an I’m-dead-serious laugh.

“Oh? When?” Her stay in
Plainview schools had become a running joke. Every year she said she was
retiring. Never happened.

“At the end of this school
year, definitely,” she informed me. I got the feeling she’d shout it from the
rooftops if given the opportunity.

Retirement.
What would happen to my retirement? If I
stayed off work until Zoe started pre-k, would I have to work until I was darn
near seventy? Stelson and I hadn’t made it that far in our discussion.

“Congratulations. We’ll have
a hard time filling your shoes,” I complimented her, taking the guest’s chair. Her
office décor hadn’t changed at all in ten years except to add more plaques,
certificates, and family pictures.

Dr. Hunt won’t be here
when I come back!
The
next H-R director might not remember me so fondly.

I swallowed. Replayed the
video of Zoe’s life-saving cry on the big screen in my head.
I’m okay. I’m
okay.

“Jerry Ringhauser called
ahead. I’d like to hear straight from the horse’s mouth, though. What brings
you here?” She laced her fingers and leaned forward.

“I’m going to take some time
off to be with my baby,” I said.

She nodded. “Good idea. I had
three of my own. I hope to be able to do with my grandkids what I couldn’t do
with mine.”

The sadness in her eyes
dissipated the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to wait until the next
generation to enjoy my offspring.

“I’m sure your grandchildren
will love having you around.”

“Yes, yes. And when do you
plan to return?”

 “Um…I guess late
spring, maybe? Or next fall?”

Dr. Hunt laughed. She cut her
eyes at me and shook her head. “I’ll make note of it, but I wouldn’t be
surprised if you changed your mind and stayed home longer. Babies have a way of
rearranging plans. You thinking about having another one?”

“Oh, noooooo,” I quickly
denied.

Dr. Hunt laughed. “That’s
what we said after the second one. Things happen.”

No, ma’am.

I completed the necessary
forms and signed my name on the dotted line, so to speak. Dr. Hunt assured me
that I wasn’t the first person to leave with no notice. “It may be better for
them to start the year off without you. The new person won’t have to compete
with your legacy. Start off fresh, you know?”

“Got it.”

Dr. Hunt pushed off the table
as she stood. “Well, Mrs. Brown, if I don’t see you anymore before I get out of
here, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Same here.”

I walked back to my car
thinking,
That wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be
. I guess I
thought they were going to bring me before a judge or something. Rake me over
the coals. Maybe Peaches was right—nobody wanted me there if I didn’t
want to be there.

My current predicament would
make me think twice about holding on to teachers who were ready to resign.

I was planning to make the
news of my leave a surprise for Stelson, so I hadn’t texted him. Instead, I cut
a path across town to meet him for lunch. There was always the possibility that
he wouldn’t be available or even present in the office, but I took my chances.

Brown-Cooper Engineering
occupied a good portion of the third floor of the Chase bank building.
Stelson’s office, of course, boasted breathtaking views of the surrounding
hills. Too bad I rarely got to see them, with my head buried in my own world.

Not today.

“Hi, LaShondra! How are you?”
Stelson’s administrative assistant, Helen, asked.

“I’m great. You?”

“Great.”

Sometimes, I felt like I
talked to Helen more than Stelson. We fell into an easy hug. Her shampoo had to
be straight up Prell. Old school all the way, with her polyester flower-print
dress. I’m not trying to be funny, but she was precisely the kind of drama-free,
wholesome, great-aunt-lookin’ secretary I wanted around my sexy husband.

She flounced down in her
chair again. “Stelson didn’t tell me you were coming by today.”

“Oh, he didn’t know. I won’t
be long. Just wanted to chat with him for a second. Is he available?”

“I believe so.” She pressed
the red conference button on the phone. “Stelson, your wife is here to see
you.”

Seconds later, Stelson rushed
out of his office. “Is everything okay?”

I scrunched my face. “Yes.
Everything’s fine.”

His shoulders fell an inch.
“Okay. Come on in.”

“I’m going to lunch,” Helen
told him. “Take care, LaShondra.”

“You, too.”

She grabbed her fanny pack
and left.

Stelson led me into his
office. The green trees and clear sky peeking through the vertical blinds gave
me an appreciation for God’s handiwork. If only I’d had this landscape to gaze
upon every now and then, my job would have been easier to bear.

The spacious room housed his
desk, a full couch, a conference table for eight, and a wall full of plaques
and certificates attesting to the company’s excellence.

Stelson shut the door behind
us. “What’s up?”

I twirled to face him. “I did
it.”

“Did what?”

“Took a leave of absence.”

The residue of anxiety
drained from his countenance, replaced by a full grin as the corners of his eyes
softened and lifted. He snatched me into an embrace and kissed my forehead. My
cheeks. Finally, my lips. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to
tell him about the Zoe incident. Frankly, I was too embarrassed. I wished I
hadn’t told Jerry, either.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

He tilted my chin up with an
index finger, kissing me more deeply than before. A surge of fire ran from my
head to my feet and back up again. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d
kissed.
Really
kissed.