I lean over to Asami and yell, “Come on. They’re upstairs.”
By the time we navigate the crowd and the questionably up-to-code stairway, Peetsa and Buddy are with the rest of the group. I’m getting a lot of funny looks as we join them.
“Look who I bumped into backstage,” I yell just as the band wraps up “The Rain Song.”
There are nods and smiles all around, but it is quite possibly one of the most awkward moments of my life, and that’s saying something.
We all watch Lez Zeppelin for a while. These girls are amazing. Even if you don’t happen to enjoy the musical stylings of Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, you can’t help but appreciate what talented musicians these women are. The crowd is going wild, and even my little nerd group is grooving.
As they wind down the show with “Stairway to Heaven,” Asami leans in and asks if I would be able to chaperone the class trip next week.
“Didn’t you get any volunteers?”
She shakes her head. “Not one.”
I actually feel sorry for her.
“Well, it’s hard sometimes. Just keep at them. I had to do a lot of begging.”
“Being class mom is a lot tougher than I thought.”
“Miss Ward doesn’t help much, either.”
Asami’s eyes widen.
“I know! I can never tell what she wants.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. She’s a tricky one.”
I’m getting tired of yelling, and my throat is really dry. I turn to the group and suggest we head out before the stampede toward the door starts. They agree and we all maneuver our way down the deathtrap-like stairs, surprisingly get the correct coats from Miss Call Me Maybe, and go out into the cold, clear February night. As Ron strides away to get our car, Peetsa comes up and gives me a hug.
“We’re heading home.” She then adds in a whisper: “I want a full report in the morning.” I give her an extra squeeze.
“We are, too,” Nina says from the comfort of Garth’s arms.
“Thanks, you guys, for coming. I know it meant a lot to Laura. Neens, I’ll call you in the morning. Garth, see you Thursday.” I blow them both kisses.
I notice Asami is still lingering, so I offer her a ride home.
“No, thanks. I have my car. I just wanted one more minute with you.”
“What’s up? I’ll chaperone the trip if you want me to.” I’m starting to shiver.
“Thank you, that would be great.” She pulls her collar up around her neck to stay warm. “But I just wanted to apologize to you for pushing you out as class mom. You didn’t deserve it.”
Wow, an apology from Asami. I’m floored. I see Ron pull up in the car, so I only have a minute.
“Well, I kind of did after the ‘your people’ comment. I really was just trying to be funny, but I know it was inappropriate and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings..”
“I accept your apology.” She nods and turns to walk away. “Good night, Jen.”
“Good night, Asami.”
And that, children, is the story of how two mortal enemies found peace. And to think it all started with a sucker punch.
16
* * *
To: Miss Ward’s Class
From: JDixon
Date: 3/5
Subject: I’m back, babies!
Dear Parents,
Big, big news from room 147! Asami Chang and I have decided being your class parent is a two-mom job, so we will be splitting duties. Asami will handle the detail-oriented stuff that, let’s face it, I stink at, and I will be in charge of communicating with all of you. So if you’re allergic to snark, you better stop reading now.
First, shame on all of you for not volunteering for the fabulous trip to the Quindaro Underground Railroad Museum. Asami is too nice to say anything, but I have put a black mark beside each of your names. The kids all had such a wonderful time after the initial disappointment when they found out there wasn’t an actual train ride involved.
Moving forward, there are a lot of opportunities for you to get back in my good graces. First up, the William Taft Annual Book Fair! It’s happening March 10. The Parents’ Association needs 3 volunteers from each class to make sure no brawls start over who gets the last copy of Captain Underpants.
More breaking news from room 147! Just after spring break, we will be having an Easter/Passover party! According to Miss Ward, these are not, repeat not Hallmark holidays and are therefore worthy of celebration. We will be decorating eggs and Jill Kaplan has volunteered to show the kiddos how to make charoset, which is a very yummy Seder treat. So, to that end, here’s a list of what we’ll need. Remember, there is no shame in offering to bring more than one thing.
3 dozen hard-boiled eggs
stickers
small chocolate eggs
a live rabbit (not really, just making sure you’re still paying attention) apples
cinnamon
grape juice
fruit for Graydon
water
cups (already got you signed up, Jackie)
wet wipes
We will provide the PAAS egg-dyeing kits.
Thank you for your cooperation. Response times will be noted and demerits will be given.
Don’t thank me, I’m just glad to be back.
Jen (and Asami in spirit)
* * *
I feel good as I click Send. I’ve missed having my little rant sessions to the class. I’m sure there will be a lot of surprised responses to the news that Asami and I are co–house parenting.
It was actually her idea. A few days after the concert at Town Hall, she called and asked if I could meet her for coffee. I was a little unsure because, let’s face it, it’s one thing to have a cease-fire with someone, but quite another to all of a sudden become girlfriends.
But I was needlessly concerned. As we sat down with our lattes on one of the couches at the Starbucks right by the school, Asami, true to form, came right out with it.
“Jen, I don’t expect we will ever be friends, but I think we would make a good team.”
“A good team of what?” I really wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
“Class mothers. You have your strengths and I have mine. Together we could get the job done really well, don’t you think?”
I looked at her skeptically. Was this Asami’s idea of humor?
“Do you mean this year? Be class mothers together this year?”
“Yes, exactly. You can write your silly letters and get people to participate, and I will make sure everything else runs smoothly.”
I ignored the implication that things didn’t run smoothly under my regime and gave Asami’s idea some real thought. I didn’t take long to realize it was a pretty good one, and it actually appealed to me.
“Sure, why not?”
“Honestly, I don’t get your jokes, but people seem to really enjoy the wit in your emails.”
I smiled at the backhanded compliment and raised my cup to her.
“Here’s to strange bedfellows.”
“Indeed.” Asami raised her cup, too.