"I hope you understand the significance of all this," she began. "Violence has become all too common a thing in our schools today, and we have to be vigilant about preventing it."
"Of course," Mommy replied. "I applaud you for that. However. I want you to understand that Grace has never had an incident like this before. She has been, as you can readily see from her transcripts, an ideal student, always an A student."
It takes only one incident to cause a bigger problem, Mrs. Houston. Someone's past history is important, of course, but violence is violence."
"Do you know the whole story?" Mommy countered. unflinching.
"I was told a story, yes," she admitted.
"They've been ganging up an her, baiting her. Grace shouldn't have fallen far it, but the others are not total innocents. Mrs. Greenstein, and in your dispensing of justice you should consider all of it."
"If I involved myself in the intrigues and soap operas of our students I wouldn't get anything accomplished. Maybe at the schools your daughter has attended the administrators had the time for all that nonsense, but we don't."
"Grace hasn't attended anything but regular public schools. Mrs. Greenstein, and judging someone or something with all the facts is not nonsense."
"Um. Well, here's what we'll do," she said, obviously either impatient with the argument or uncomfortable facing someone as strong as my mother, "She's suspended for the remainder of this week. She's on probation for the remainder of the year. Should she commit any other acts of violence, no matter how she is baited, she's out of here. I still expect letters of apology to the teachers who had to pull her off the other girl."
"And as far as the others go, no reprimands, nothing?" my mother asked.
"Let's be concerned only with your daughter. Mrs. Houston, It would seem to me you have enough with just her. I'll look after the remaining students," she said with a cold smile.
"Grace will suffer her punishment because she did act in an improper manner, but if I hear another incident of her being baited or persecuted and nothing done about that. I will be back." Mommy said, and returned the cold smile. "There are all sorts of forms of violence, same even more painful than physical violence."
Mrs. Greenstein said nothing for a moment and then stood up. "Thank you for coming," she told Mommy. She looked at me. Have those letters on my desk when you return on Monday." she said.
I nodded, and we left the office. Mommy said nothing, but I could feel the rage burning inside her as we marched out of the office and through the corridor to the nearest exit.
"That woman." she said through clenched teeth, "Your father would say, 'I wonder where she keeps her steel marbles.'Another Captain Queeg from The Caine Mutiny"-
I was afraid to say a word. Before we got home, she shook her head. "I'm sorry you're in her school. Grace. I wish I could put you someplace else."
"I'll be all right. Mommy."
"Yes." she said, but not with her usual tone of confidence. Since I wasn't attending school for the next three days, she suggested I come with her to the restaurant. Randy called and promised to get me all my homework. At least I would have that to do during the day.
I was glad to go to the restaurant and be with people. I was still feeling very sad for Augustus, as well as myself. Dallas was very sympathetic and nice to me. I put on one of my prettier dresses and helped her with the hostess work, as I had before. On the second night Phoebe showed up with Roger and saw me. She smiled and said. "Glad you found a job that suits you."
I didn't respond. but I glanced at Roger. He looked away guiltily. He followed her into Warren's office and then left with her.
All the next day I sensed that Mommy was excited about something. She spent more time on her hair, makeup, and fingernails before we left for the restaurant, and she was never as anxious about getting there. It puzzled me until a distinguished-looking older man arrived, and I noted he had a reservation for one under the name Winston Montgomery,
I had the feeling he knew who I was when he came into the restaurant. He approached the hostess desk and stood there for a moment smiling at me without speaking.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"Winston Montgomery. I had a reservation far eight. Not for eight people," he quickly corrected, "For eight P.M."
I smiled and looked at the seating chart, realizing he was in Mommy's section.
"Right this way," I said, taking a menu. I led him to his table, the one in the far left corner.
"Thank you." he said when I pulled out the chair for him and handed him the menu. He spoke in sharp, crisp tones like someone who was conscious of every syllable, vowel, and consonant. His voice had the resonance of a radio personality's.
"Enjoy your dinner. The waitress will be with you right away."
"How well do you know my waitress?" he asked me before I could return to the desk. The impish glint in his bluish gray eyes assured me he already knew the answer,
"Fairly well, since she's my mother," I said.