The Heritage Paper

Chapter 6



Veronica walked into the principal’s office like she was the one in trouble. The perpetrator stood beside her, still looking adorable in his police uniform.

Helen, Principal Sweetney’s longtime secretary, ushered them into her office. Veronica hadn’t seen the stone-faced woman smile in years, yet Jamie was able to bring one to her face.

“She’ll be with you in a few minutes,” Helen informed them.

A “few minutes” turned into fifteen, and then twenty. Veronica kept looking at her watch, knowing every minute that went by meant she was closer to missing Maggie’s presentation, and heading for a week of dirty looks and “whatevers.”

Ten more minutes crawled by before a boxy blonde woman strutted in, wearing a purple blouse and gray slacks. As usual, she overdid the perfume, attempting to cover up the smell of cigarettes. She looked like Veronica, except lately she’d begun to look like two of her. This scared Veronica, since people had always commented on how much they resembled each other. It brought her back to the whole nature (slow metabolism) or nurture (binge eating since the divorce) debate.

“Sorry I’m late, I’ve been trying to clean up your mess. I guess the more things change the more things stay the same,” she greeted them without so much as a hello.

Veronica wanted to “go-Maggie” on her with a heavy sigh and a roll of the eyes, but instead she just said, “Hello to you too, Mom.”

“Aren’t you going to say hello to me, Grammy?” Jamie perked up.

“First of all, in this room I am Principal Sweetney. And secondly, I have a lot to say to you, young man, but none of it is in the form of a pleasant salutation.”

Jamie tried his killer smile. The one he saved for times when he’d dug himself an especially deep hole. “I love how you know all the big words, Principal Sweetney.”

“That won’t work on me.”

He looked confused, rarely having to go to a backup plan.

Veronica took the comment as: like it works with your mother, who by the way, can’t match up to me.

“I just spent the last hour with the parents of the child you assaulted,” she went on, holding a stern gaze on Jamie.

“Don’t you think ‘assaulted’ is a little strong,” Veronica responded like an over-matched public defender, and was quickly dismissed. She felt like she was sixteen again. But on second thought, the sixteen-year-old Veronica wouldn’t have cowered like the Veronica of today.

Her mother lit a cigarette—prohibited on school grounds—moved to the cracked window and exhaled the smoke outside.

“The good news is that I was able to convince the injured parties not to sue the school. But the not-so-good-news for you, Jamie, is I promised that the school—and by school, I mean me—would take swift steps to punish the defendant. This will serve as the first step in ensuring that no further diabolical acts occur on school grounds.”

“Diabolical? It was a prank for goodness sake,” Veronica fought back. The fights during her teenage years were legendary, usually about choices in men, music and college majors. Art history is slang for no money, her mother would always say. It was impossible to win an argument with her—Veronica’s father finally gave up trying about five years ago. They got divorced, and he now lived with his girlfriend in Charleston.

“Let me define diabolical,” her mother responded calmly. “A premeditated act in which a student smuggled in a substance that he used to poison and embarrass another student. An act for which he still has shown no remorse.”

As much as Veronica hated to give an inch in these battles, she knew her mother was right. If Jamie continued to charm his way out of these incidents, what might they lead to?

Still facing the window, Principal Sweetney asked between drags, “So what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”

Veronica could tell that Jamie was not ready to surrender. “I think smoking is bad for you, Grammy, but you do it even though you know it’s wrong. Sometimes people do stuff they know is wrong because they just can’t help it.”

That was about as close as Jamie would get to throwing himself at the mercy of the court. He glimmered a smile.

Helen’s voice came over the intercom, sounding flustered—phone calls and messages were starting to pile up. Having Heritage and Career Day on the same morning made no sense, but Veronica kept quiet—even sixteen-year-old-Veronica would’ve realized she didn’t have much leverage at this point.

The judge informed Helen that she needed a minute, and then rendered her decision, “You will be suspended until after Thanksgiving break. We will meet again at that point to determine if you have realized your mistakes, and have acquired the proper remorse. Any time missed from school will be made up during the summer.”

Jamie looked sheepishly happy. Visions of jumping into leaf piles and Xbox marathons likely dancing in his head. Not to mention all the gadgets Veronica bought him out of guilt after Carsten died.

But the judge wiped the smile off his face. “I’ve arranged for you to spend your suspension with your Uncle Phil and Aunt Valerie. They have a lot of chores lined up for you.”

Jamie looked perplexed. “But they’re no fun.”

She pointed at him. “Exactly.”

Jamie turned accepting—he was retreating. But Veronica knew his mind was already plotting a way out.

“Now get to Career Day before I change my mind and add another week to your punishment,” Principal Sweetney belted out like a drill sergeant.

Jamie began to stroll toward the door, his shoulders slumped like somebody just stole his lunch box.

“And one other thing,” she barked, just as he reached the door.

He turned, looking hopeful.

“The police are supposed to help people. Not hurt them … or poison them.”

He played with the toy badge pinned to his chest as he digested the words, and then exited through the door, head down.

Veronica grabbed her purse and stood.

Her mother pointed her back down, “You and I aren’t done yet.”

“Can’t we do this later? I’m late for Maggie’s presentation.”

“Sometimes our children are better without us mothers hovering over them. And besides, we’ve put this off too long. I’m worried about them.”

“They’re kids—and they’ve had a tough year. Losing their father … a new house … a new school. I think they’re just blowing off some frustration.”

“It’s more than that.”

“I guess you know my kids better than me.”

“I know you think I didn’t like Carsten.”

“Carsten?” Veronica was caught off guard. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Where are you going with this?”

“It does matter. And you were right—I didn’t like him. I should have been thrilled that my daughter found this seemingly perfect guy who was so smart and charming. And anybody with half a brain could see he was totally in love with you.”

“But you never acted that way.”

“When I met him I was unaware of his family situation, so that had nothing to do with my apprehension.”

“Let’s stop beating around the bush—his mother killed his abusive father. That’s a little more than a situation. What does this have to do with anything?”

“There was something in his eyes that I could never shake. Behind his charismatic smile was this look that said he was capable of doing very bad things.”

Veronica shut her eyes. She visualized the look in those eyes that night in the kitchen when everything changed for them.

“Honey, I’ve seen that same look in Jamie’s eyes, and I think it’s important to stop it right now before it’s too late.”