Black Wings Read online

  Tommy’s grin faded. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked on his heels. “Sure, yeah. I figured she might be. I guess I didn’t really pay attention to the time.”

  “It’s not even eight in the morning,” she said flatly. “On a Monday. Where did you think she’d be?”

  Dean coughed into his fist. Tommy looked from Marian to Dean, then at the bird. It muttered something in Briella’s voice. Then it spoke louder.

  “Goodbye. Goodbye.”

  Maybe the raven wasn’t so bad after all. Marian laughed silently, pressing her lips together, at Tommy’s expression. She caught Dean’s gaze over her ex’s shoulder, and they shared a look. Her irritation didn’t disappear, but it faded. That’s what Dean did for her. He made her calm.

  Her phone buzzed from her jeans pocket, and she pulled it out. She rarely got calls on it. Her brother always texted first, and Dad didn’t even own a mobile phone, although she’d been after him to get one for safety reasons. When she saw the name and number, she groaned, but swiped to take the call.

  It was the school.

  Chapter Nine

  “First of all, let me say how nice it is to see a coparenting relationship working out.” The school guidance counselor, Mrs. Cuddy, wore her reading glasses pushed on top of her curly, graying hair, the chain dangling down on either side of her head. She had lipstick curdled in the corners of her lips, but her smile was broad and kind.

  Marian remembered her from her own days at Southside Elementary. Mrs. Cuddy had been one of only two black teachers in the school. She and Marian had never talked about it, what it was like to be one of a few dark faces in the sea of white, but there’d been a silent understanding between them anytime they had to interact. By the time Briella came to this school, the diversity of the population had expanded, but Mrs. Cuddy was still a familiar and welcome face.

  “It’s about what’s best for the kid.” Tommy sounded sincere.

  The hell?

  Marian shifted in her chair, ignoring him. She cleared her throat, trying but failing to keep her voice from shaking. “So, if you could please tell us what’s going on…?”

  Mrs. Cuddy folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “I think it might be best if I just…show you. But I don’t want you to be alarmed, all right? Briella’s not in any kind of trouble.”

  “Is she hurt?” Marian blurted. “Did something else happen on the playground?”

  “I think you’d better just tell us right now what’s going on.” Dean took Marian’s hand. Squeezed her fingers tight.

  She squeezed back.

  Marian did not look at Tommy, on her other side. She’d taken the middle seat to keep a distance between her ex and Dean, but now she felt like a bridge she didn’t want to be. Tommy shouldn’t have been there, acting like a father, like he somehow had anything to do with Briella beyond providing the sperm and then coincidentally being there when Marian got the school’s call. She wanted to spit. Dean had been the one to acquiesce, to say that it was fine for Tommy to come along. He was the one who never felt threatened by Tommy’s periodic appearances.

  “Briella’s always been a bright girl. She’s been part of our gifted program since kindergarten.” Mrs. Cuddy stopped, clearly struggling to be diplomatic. “We’ve never had any problems with her, academically. But…there have been some behavioral problems.”

  Tommy sat up straighter. “Huh? What kind of behavioral problems?”

  “She’s had some difficulties getting along with some of the other students.”

  “Only recently. She used to get along with everyone.” Marian lifted her chin, meeting Mrs. Cuddy’s gaze without flinching, as though she could somehow make this true. It wasn’t, not quite.

  Mrs. Cuddy’s smile wasn’t as soothing as she probably meant it to be. “Now’s about the time when we start seeing a lot of…changes…in the kids. They’re about to head into middle school. Some of them are entering puberty, while their peers haven’t yet caught up. It’s a tough time, even for kids without Briella’s special gifts. But I really should just show you. Please come with me.”

  She stood. So did Marian and the others. Mrs. Cuddy nodded as she passed them, gesturing in the doorway for them to follow. Tommy pushed his way first. Typical. Once again, Marian found herself sandwiched between the men as Dean hung behind, his hand on her lower back as they walked. Today that comforting touch irritated her, and she shrugged it off.

  Mrs. Cuddy took them down a long hall, away from Briella’s classroom, past the library and then around a corner. The rooms here were spaced farther apart, but unlike the rest of the doors they’d passed, these were all closed. The door Mrs. Cuddy put them in front of had a large glass pane, threaded with wire inside the glass.

  “We won’t go in just yet. I wanted you to see, first.”

  Marian knuckled Tommy aside, her breath held. She didn’t know what to expect, but whatever it was had to be bad, right? They didn’t just call you down to the school this way for anything good. She looked into the window, hesitantly at first, not wanting Briella to see her watching. She didn’t have to worry. The kid was at the chalkboard, scrawling away at a bunch of numbers and equations, too intent to see if she were being observed. Her mouth was going a mile a minute, too, as she looked over her shoulder at someone else in the room. Marian peered to see who it was.

  “That’s not Mrs. Jackson.” She looked at Mrs. Cuddy.

  “Bill Spector is the district’s special-needs coordinator, and he’s also a psychiatrist.”

  “A shrink? F— no.” Tommy blurted the words, taking a step toward the door like he meant to fight it. At least he’d managed to keep his cursing under control.

  Marian let out a huff of surprise and stepped back so Tommy could muscle his way in front of the window. “Special needs? Psychiatrist? I don’t understand.”

  “My kid’s not a retard,” Tommy said.

  Well, that explained everything about where Briella had heard it, and of course Tommy had learned at his dear old bitch of a mother’s knee. Marian’s teeth snapped shut on the tip of her tongue, but she refused to bite it. She pushed at him to get him away from the window so she could look in again.

  “You’re a pig, Tommy.”

  Tommy gave her a wide-eyed look of surprise. “What? Why?”

  “We prefer not to marginalize our students with special needs by using derogatory terms,” Mrs. Cuddy said, then added with a look at Marian, “or calling each other derogatory names.”

  Marian frowned, feeling scolded. “You don’t call people that, Tommy.”

  “Sorry for not being ‘PC,’” he said, using obnoxious air quotes and not sounding sorry at all.

  Dean stepped in, tugging Marian gently away from the window and turning her to stand at his side, facing the guidance counselor. “We know Briella’s really smart and gifted. And we know about the issues with her attitude, too. We’ve been trying to work with her on it.”

  “As I said,” Mrs. Cuddy paused to look at Tommy with disdain, “our special-needs students receive guidance not only from myself and the other counselors at their individual buildings, but also district-wide. I asked Dr. Spector to come in today because over the past couple weeks, Briella’s been having some difficulties at school that have become untenable for her teachers.”

  “What’s that mean? Kids not talking to her, not paying attention to her, not wanting to be her friends is now important? We were told last year that she wasn’t being bullied, so what’s going on now, and why haven’t I heard about it before?” Marian demanded, her arms crossed. Her breath snagged in her throat, hurting. She swallowed hard, but everything was so dry, scratching like sand.

  Mrs. Cuddy gave her a calm smile. “At the time we spoke last year, there was no evidence of bullying. That’s true. This year, as I said, it’s the time when many of our kids here are undergoing changes.