Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“So, let’s calmly walk into the office and see if Mr. Pendelgraf has a class right now. If he doesn’t, they can ask him to come to the office, where witnesses will be present to hear what we have to say.”
Dad must like this idea because he gets out of the car and once again slams my door, causing me to cringe. I’m afraid he’s going to bust out the window with his aggression.
I get out and have to run to catch up with him at the door to the school. It’s locked, which is honestly a good thing. Anything to slow my dad down. I press the button on the wall and wait for someone to come onto the intercom. When no one answers right away, I press it again.
“May I help you.”
“Hi, yes. Mr. Westbury to see Mr. Pendelgraf,” I say, not knowing who the current principal is or I would’ve used their name.
“And if he’s not available, we need to see Mrs. Gayle,” my dad adds.
The door buzzes and we walk in. Long gone is the freedom we used to have at school when you could walk in and wander the halls aimlessly. Now, there are stanchions attempting to prevent you from entering the atrium and directing you to the front office. Dad must know this because he doesn’t even hesitate to head toward the office.
As we walk in, I’m assuming Mrs. Gayle is heading toward us, with her hand up. “I know why you’re here. I’ve taken care of the situation, Mr. Westbury.”
“How?”
“I sent Mr. Pendelgraf home and told him he can’t come back until there’s been a hearing with the school board, which Paige will be asked to attend.”
It’s like all the gusto has escaped from my dad. He lets out a long breath and nods. “Thanks. I came in here ready to fight for my daughter.”
“Believe me, I’m fighting for her and all the others. What happened isn’t okay and I won’t tolerate it.”
After they talk for a few more minutes, we head back to my car. Inside, Dad sighs. “The best thing you can do for your children is be their advocate. Whether you agree with the situation or not, you stand up for your kids, no matter what. The worst thing you can do as a parent is not support your child.”
“Do you not believe Paige?”
“I do and even if I didn’t, I’d still be here ready to beat the shit out of the teacher. I don’t care who you are, you don’t disparage people. More so, you don’t do it if you’re someone in a position of authority, which a teacher is.”
We sit there for a moment. I absorb his words. I never really think about the years I spent without him, at least not as much as I did when I was younger. Mason was there for me, filling in the hole left by Liam, even though he had no idea. And then there was Nick, who is still active in my life. I glance at my dad and realize he has no one. His dad isn’t in his life and my grandpa Preston doesn’t really do much with him.
“I’m going to need your help with the triplets,” I say.
He looks at me.
“Peyton and I don’t know what we’re doing and with three of them . . .”
“Your mom and I will be wherever you need us to be. As will Katelyn and Harrison. We’re not going to let you and Peyton fail or struggle. I believe the grandmas have already started a calendar so they can be there to help, especially in the middle of the night. Same with Harrison and me. We have some time off and we’re going to be there.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He grips my shoulder. “I won’t let you down or fail you like my father failed me.”
Tears threaten to spill over. “I know you won’t.”
29
PEYTON
In a matter of days, I’m going to be a mom. The countdown is on and very real, and tonight is one of the last times it’ll ever be Elle and me, doing nothing but watching movies. It’s not going to matter what the movie is, we’ll both cry because everything makes us cry these days. We can’t help it. We’re emotional but after tonight, we’re going to be different. Our lives will have forever changed. But tonight, we’re two very pregnant sisters who are going to veg out on the oversized reading chair my husband bought me, and just be.
Elle waddles into the room and collapses dramatically onto my new chair. She thinks she’s big, but she’s nothing compared to me. “I’m tired of being pregnant,” she says with a sigh. “I mean, I’m not, but I am.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” I tell her. “But I don’t want it to be over. It feels like it’s too soon.”