By Liz Belden Handler

 

With kids, it's always a mistake to think any day will be predictable. For example, a few weeks ago my orderly day was disrupted by a call from my daughter's school. She was in trouble, and I was meeting the dean about her behavior.... again.

 

I love my daughter but I also know her. She's no firm believer in rules and regulations.  Already angry, I marched the dean's office, looked at my daughter and hissed, “I don't know and I don't care.” 

 

“But Mom!” 

 

“It doesn't matter why you did it.  What matters is that I had to leave work and meet you here. Again.” 

 

Katie and I both turned away, seeing the small room grow smaller with its messy desk, computer, teensy flowered sofa, coffee table and looming wall of stuffed bookshelves.  We instinctively huddled closer together on the couch and our voices shrank to whispers.

 

“What possessed you, Katie? Do you want to be expelled?”

 

“Mom, it wasn't me!  Not this time.  I'd just walked into the classroom myself when Mr. Cutler showed up.  If I'd known that those kids were writing on the walls I never would have gone in.” 

 

She focused on a magazine she'd found on the table to avoid me, then looked deep into my eyes. This sent me straight back to a different office, where I was the child in trouble and it was my mom who'd come to bail me out -- a tough act to follow. She always knew when I was telling the truth and when I'd screwed up but didn't want to admit it -- even to myself.  I wish I had her built-in lie detector. 

 

 “Kathryn Annabel, do you promise me that you didn't do this?  I want to trust you, but…” 

 

"Mom, it’s true!  I was walking by and heard Heather giggling, and Jon telling her to zip it, so I just went in to see what was going on.”

 

I walked over to the wall, staring absently at photos of long graduated athletes, considering Katie’s words.  I sighed. “So what’s happening with the other kids?  Have their parents been called? Are they in trouble too?” 

 

A noise outside made us look at the door before she could answer. 

 

False alarm, no Mr. Cutler.  “Kate, I need to know what really happened.  If you did something, we'll deal with it, but I have to know!  Don't let me make a fool out of myself by defending you, only to find out some third grader was walking by and saw you!  Tell me the whole truth.” 

 

“Mom, I swear -- I swear on Grampy’s grave -- I didn't do anything but walk into that room.  I don't even like those kids. I think Mr. Cutler called their parents, too. You got here the quickest.  He’s probably just waiting for them to show up and then we'll all talk.”

 

“Where are the other kids?  Why did Mr. Cutler leave us here by ourselves?” We both surveyed the room again as if the others might have escaped our notice. 

 

Katie walked behind the desk, this time to look at a photo of a woman and three girls before she could bring herself to look at me.  When she did, she was all seriousness. “I think the other kids are in the Upper School office.  Mom, I know I've done some stuff –leaving campus, skipping classes and being an idiot, okay?  But not this time -- I want to go to college. I have to do well and graduate!” 

 

Katie carefully set the photo down exactly where it had been and walked back to me where I still sat on the sofa.  She reached for my hands, tears spilling down her face.  “Mom, please, please believe me.  I know I've screwed up, but please help me now.  I need you, Mom.  I need your help. Please!” 

 

The two us held a frozen tableau, Kate straining toward me, me on the seat's edge, every muscle tense, my eyes searching her offered eyes. Finally, I sagged back against the cushions, pulling Katie into my arms.  “Okay, sweetheart, I believe you.  We'll get through this, I promise."  Katie burrowed into my lap, and started to cry.

 

“Hush, lovie.  I'll make it okay. Now, dry your eyes, he's going to be here any second.”  I took her by the shoulders. “We Walters are tough, remember?  Let's get this straightened out!”

 

Calls to the Dean's office are unpredictable. Love and trust, thank heaven, are the most predictable thing in the world.