Not My Daughter

'My friends. Lily's friends. They're all into it. An e-mail from me is something else, not to mention that I can just hear the guys on the school board. 'She's using her position to coerce parents to support her. They'll show up out of fear that if they don't, she'll take it out on their kids.' I'd be using my position to help myself.'

'It's done all the time.'

'Not by me.'

'Then let's pick words you can live with,' he suggested, and together they drafted a message alerting parents to the upcoming meeting: My earlier e-mail has kept you abreast of what we're doing in school to help our students deal with the current crisis. In light of the recent media coverage, the school board has decided to hold an open meeting to give you a chance to weigh in on the debate. If you'd like to give us an update on how your child is doing and tell us if you're satisfied with the steps we've taken, please plan to attend.

She gave date, time, and place, and sent it out Thursday night, knowing that she was taking a risk. If her guess was wrong and the letters in the Gazette were representative of town sentiment, she was toast.

Susan hadn't run the e-mail past Phil. When he showed up at her office Friday morning looking like he'd lost his best friend, she wondered if that had been a tactical error. He sank into a chair, his legs sprawled. For a split second, she feared he had lost his job.

She wasn't far off. 'You have to help me here, Susan,' he began, sounding as weary as he looked. 'I'm under pressure. The school board wants you out.'

'The whole board?' Susan asked in alarm. Surely not Pam. Or Hillary, or Henry.

'No. But a majority. You know the ones.'

'Before next week's meeting?'

'They don't want that meeting. They don't believe the parents should decide. They think what happens in our schools should be determined by the people in charge.'

Susan was incensed. 'Like George Abbott and the Gazette? Like those anonymous citizens whose letters he printed?'

'I understand why you're bitter. You haven't gotten a fair shake. I do believe you've done a great job.'

'Tell them that, Phil. Fight for me.'

He sighed defeatedly. 'Neal Lombard called. Your e-mail didn't go over well. One of the parents told Evan, who told Neal, who told Tom, Duncan, and Carl. That's four of them who want you fired, and they want me to do it. If I say no, that's four of them who'll vote to fire me. I'm fifty-eight, Susan. I can't start looking for a new job now. So I can fire you, and you can sue me for wrongful dismissal, in which case my career's hurt anyway. Or you can resign.'

'Because my daughter is pregnant,' Susan said in disbelief. 'If those men found my e-mail threatening, they must be afraid of the crowds it'll draw.'

He sighed again. 'It doesn't matter. I just need you to resign.'

She actually felt for him. A friend, he had given her career a major boost. But weren't they both being railroaded? 'I can't, Phil.'

'Sure you can,' he coaxed. 'You're young. There are lots of com munities looking for a good high school principal. You'll find another job.'

'That's not the issue.' She was thinking of Lily now. It's my future, Mom. You're paving the way. 'I can't resign. Not before that meeting. If it turns out the parents disapprove of me and the job I've done, you'll have my resignation by the end of the evening. That's the best I can do.'

It wasn't good enough for those school board members whose bluff she had called. They didn't fire Phil; not yet. They simply went to Plan B, which entailed moving the open board meeting from Wednesday to Thursday.

Pam was furious. Having declared her allegiance to Susan, she argued forcefully with the board in a conference call Friday afternoon.

'Thursday night is impossible,' she said. 'Susan will be in Boston for Lily's surgery.'

'Ms. Tate doesn't have to be there,' one of the men said.

'Of course she does. This is a referendum on her.'

'Let her change her plans.'

'Would you have her postpone critical surgery-you all, who are obsessed with her being a good mother? Why not hold the meeting the week after next?'

'It has to be next week. We've waited too long. Unless you want Correlli fired first.'

Pam did not. Once they fired Phil, they would fire Susan, and if Neal Lombard had his way, they would elevate Evan Brewer. Even with Hillary and Harold on Pam's side, the opposition would win.

'Hillary, this is blackmail,' she complained.

'Yes,' Hillary said. 'Threats are counterproductive, Mr. Morgan. What about holding the meeting Tuesday night?'

Pam could live with that. She could get a phone tree telling people of the change.

'Bad night,' said Tom Zimmerman. 'Rotary Club meeting.'

'Thursday is worse,' Pam argued. 'Perry and Cass is holding its biannual staff meeting, which means half of our parents will be there. Besides, they're using the auditorium.'

'Why can't we hold our meeting where we usually do?' Tom asked.

'In Town Hall? That's way too small.'

'We've held open meetings there before.'

'This one involves too many people. There has to be a better place.' But the middle schools didn't have their own auditoriums, the elementary schools only had gymnasiums, and the churches were all small and tight.

'We could use the Perry and Cass warehouse,' Duncan Haith said with a dry chuckle.

Pam ignored him. 'Tell you what. I'll agree to Town Hall as long as we have mikes and speakers in every room there. That's the kind of crowd that'll come out for Susan Tate.'

'Isn't that a threat?' asked Neal Lombard.

'No, sir,' Pam replied. 'It's a promise. You all are playing a game that isn't in the best interest of our kids. I have a child in the school. Same with most of the parents who'll be at this meeting. Either you give them a say now, or they'll have theirs when your terms expire next year.'

Susan barely winced when Pam called to tell her the meeting would be held Thursday night. It was just one more blow. And there was nothing to consider.

'Lily has to be at the hospital at six Friday morning, and she needs to sleep Thursday night. That means checking into the hotel by nine, so I'll miss the meeting. You'll have to represent me, Pam.'

As she hung up the phone, the last shred of her complacency dissolved. She had to notify parents of the change, and she was angry enough to be blunt. Important correction, she wrote in the subject line of her e-mail, and in the body, Next week's open meeting of the school board will be held on Thursday at Town Hall. I will not be there, but will be in Boston for my daughter's surgery. For those of you who don't know, Lily's baby has a congenital problem that has to be repaired if the child is to live. Since I'm unable to attend this crucial meeting, I'm counting on you all to be there in my place.

Given a unifying cause, Susan, Kate, Sunny, and Pam were all at the barn on Saturday morning. If dissension lingered, it was hard to spot. Not that there was loud laughter, as there used to be in Susan's garage. Their purpose wasn't funny at all.

They plotted ways to notify nonparents about the upcoming meeting. They created a theme for the PC Wool promotion. They talked about Lily's surgery, Mary Kate's heartburn, and the baby girl Jessica had just learned she was having. They talked about Abby. By then, they were knitting.

Lily was knitting as well. She had slept late and, with Susan at the barn, had gone out for breakfast with Rick. They ran errands on the way home-town dump, drugstore, supermarket-and made a brief stop at the pier, but the January wind off the water was cold. Leaving the seagulls to guard the boats, they returned home and settled down in front of a fire in the den.

When there was a knock at the door, Lily put down her knitting. Most people rang the bell. Only friends knocked.

Robbie stood there. Having run across the street without a coat, he slipped quickly inside. 'Hey,' he said with a smile. 'How're you feeling?'

'I'm good.'