My son is always getting into trouble at school, for one thing, or another. When the school called me Thursday and asked me to come to speak with his teacher about his behavior in class, it didn’t shock me at all. I’d heard he’d gotten a new teacher because his first one went on maternity leave, but I’d yet to meet this new Mr. James. I was curious as to how this parent-teacher conference would pan out.
I arrived at the school a little after the bell had rung for the day. Wearing a small black skirt and button-up blouse. The nylon stockings I wore made my legs glisten in the southern sunlight. I strolled down the school hallway listening to the kids gossiping, and it reminded me of my days in high school. His classroom door was open, and I knocked lightly on the solid wood. A very tall and fit man stood from his chair behind the desk and offered me a tight-lipped smile.
