17. The Exchange

The twins look absolutely miserable. 

Sure, they’re not exactly angels on the best of days, but seeing them slouched in their chairs across from Ms. Newmark’s desk, arms folded, their eyes holding none of their usual mischievous sparkle makes my stomach tighten. 

There’s a row of seats set up across the desk, all filled except for the one closest to the door I’m gently closing behind me. 

The soft click sounds like a gun shot in the tense silence of the room. 

Miranda moves to stand next to the empty chair, and I take an out of the way place against the wall, tablet ready to take notes. I use the moment to take take a more careful look at the room. 

Caroline is seated next to the empty chair, with Cassidy on her other side. Their father, and Miranda’s first husband, Richard Caldwell sits at the far end of the line. Or as I like to call him, Dick. 

His ankle resting on his thigh, and his arm draped over the back of the chair next to him. The tension in his jaw contradicts his relaxed pose. 

Even Ms. Newmark isn’t immune to the grey cloud hovering over the room. Elbows propped on her desk, she’s clasping her fingers together with white knuckles. 

The only person who doesn’t seem to notice the claustrophobic atmosphere is the woman between Richard and Cassidy. Only a few years older than me, her blonde hair is swept up in an updo that would add an air of sophistication to most other women, but it only makes her look more juvenile. She’s turned in her seat to face the girls, twirling a lock of Cassidy’s hair around her finger and cooing. 

“Oh, sweetie I love your hair. We should have a salon day soon!”

So this is Brielle Caldwell, Dick’s latest wife. 

It’s no secret that the man likes them young. A quick Google search shows that his partner’s age decreases with each new relationship. 

From what I’ve been able to piece together, Dick’s wives typically don’t take much of an interest in the girls. They’re usually models, or new actresses, too busy to play stepmom. 

Brielle appears to be … different. 

“No thanks, Brielle,” Cassidy mutters, pulling her head away from Brielle’s fingers. 

Whether the woman is socially clueless or incredibly rude, she doesn’t take the hint. Instead, she leans further into Cassidy’s space and wraps her arms around her shoulders, squeezing. Cassidy goes impossibly more tense. Caroline looks on helplessly, her face a mix of horror and fury. 

The entire tableau makes my stomach flip, but especially Caroline’s reaction. It takes a fair bit to rile her up, compared to her more emotive sister. 

“Oh Cassy,” Brielle coos, still holding onto Cassidy’s shoulders. “I’ve told you to call me Mommy Bri. After all, we’re family now!” 

My face drains of all color. 

Mommy Bri? What in the–

“I believe we need another chair,” Miranda breaks through the insanity. My gaze snaps to her in time to catch her looking from Ms. Newmark and back to me. 

As usual, I have no idea what Miranda is playing at, but I know better than to question her, especially not in front of potential enemies. 

I glance around the room, finding an available chair. I move briskly and place it next to the seat Miranda’s perched herself on before Ms. Newmark can even say anything. 

“You’re dragging assistants to parent-teacher meetings now, Miranda?” Dick drawls. “You can’t even do that on your own?”

Miranda doesn’t even look at him. She flicks an imaginary piece of lint off her sleeve and says,

“Who accompanies me is really none of your business, Richard. I’m here. And so are you. For the first time in years.”

Letting that little bomb drop, Miranda turns to Ms. Newmark, ignoring Dick’s stammering denials. 

“Our time is all valuable, let’s not delay further.” 

“Y-yes, of course Mrs. Priestley,” the young teacher stutters. From the corner of my eye, I see Miranda’s eyes narrow slightly at the use of Mrs. Priestly, but she doesn’t comment. 

“So we’ve been having some, uh, behavior issues.” Ms. Newmark’s eyes go wide and she rushed to continue. “Not that they’re really a disturbance, they’re really great in class, just so brilliant–”

“Aren’t they?” Brielle gushes. She grabs Cassidy’s hand and it takes everything in me not to get up and drag Cassidy away from her. “They’re so talented and smart! I see their homework sometimes, and I’m just like ‘Wow!’” 

With a jerk, Cassidy manages to pull her hand out of Brielle’s grasp. She clasps both of her hands tightly in her lap, and mutters, 

“It’s fifth grade. It’s not exactly rocket science.” 

Caroline inches closer to her sister. 

“Yes, well,” Ms. Newmark tries again. “We’re just noticing that there have been some … incidents … with some other students. Friends of theirs, really–”

“Friendships grow apart all the time. It’s really not a phenomenon,” Miranda clips. She drops one hand between her and Caroline’s chairs and Caroline grabs onto it like a lifeline. 

“Of course,” Ms. Newmark scrambles. “I just … well … girls, maybe you’d be able to explain what’s been going on?” Ms. Newmark turns a pleading smile to Caroline and Cassidy. 

The girls stay statue still, and I can’t blame them. Seriously? We’re supposed to believe that this teacher can command a classroom of twenty fifth graders?

I’ll believe it when I see it. 

When the twins stay silent, Dick steps in. 

“Now, girls.” What’s up with that condescending tone? Is that how he always talks to them? “I know you’ve been upset. Everyone is here to listen, so why don’t you–”

“We’re not upset,” Caroline declares. 

Caroline. 

Cassidy nods her furiously in agreement. “We’re perfectly fine. We’re getting good grades, aren’t we?” She glares daggers at Ms. Newmark. 

Miranda’s been teaching them well, I smirk to myself. 

“Well, yes,” more stammering from Ms. Newmark. “I just want to make sure–”

“You want to know what I think?” Brielle interrupts cheerily. Before I can lose control and snap that No, no one has any interest in the rusty gears that churn inside your head, she speeds ahead. “Going between two homes is so hard for kids. Weeks with one parent, then every other weekend with the other? There’s no stability, no sense of home or family.” She smiles beautifically at all of us, as if she made some grand pronouncement. “Maybe the girls are just missing some really family bonding. Divorce is so hard on kids, ya know?”

“We were three,” Caroline mumbles darkly. Her fists are alternately clenching and smoothing her skirt. 

I’ve gotta agree with Caroline. Brielle’s been around for what, six months? And suddenly she’s an expert on what the girls need? 

Yeah right. 

There’s obviously more going on here, and I don’t like it. Not one bit. 

Miranda stands gracefully. “Well, this has certainly been a waste of valuable time. Girls, get your bags and let’s–”

“Now wait here, Miranda,” Dick interrupts. “I do believe it’s my weekend with them.”

It’s barely perceptible, but Miranda’s teeth clench. “Ah. So you want to claim your time? I’ve always said the girls deserve a consistent relationship with their father.”

“But mom,” Cassidy whispers desperately. A warning glance from Miranda quiets her, but not in time to stop Brielle’s arms from going around her once again, hugging Cassidy’s back to her front. 

“Aw, come on Cassy, we’ll have a great weekend together! We can do mani pedis, and braid each others hair, and I can teach you all about how to make chocolate chip muffins. I bet you haven’t made those before!”

“But we already–” Caroline tries to correct, but it’s no use. 

Brielle skips forward and grabs both of the girls hands and starts heading for the door. 

“Grab the bags, would you Richa–” Brielle turns to call back, but before she can finish, both Cassidy and Caroline make a run for it, breaking Brielle’s hold. They stumble into Miranda’s legs at the same time, almost making her stumble if I hadn’t instinctively put a steadying hand against her back. 

As soon as she has her balance, I let the hand drop and step back. 

“Mom, please,” Cassidy begs looking up at her, tears forming in her eyes. Caroline burrows her face in the hem of Miranda’s blouse. 

I can’t see Miranda’s face, but I see just the slightest tremble in her hands as she places them on each of their heads. 

“I know, Bobbseys,” she says in a quiet, almost gentle voice. “Be good for your father, try to focus on your homework, and it’ll be Monday before you know it.” 

The girls take a final moment to hold onto their mom before reluctantly letting go and stepping toward the door. 

“Come on, sweeties,” Brielle coos, holding her arms out as if for hugs. “We’ll have so much–” 

The twins don’t even glance in her direction as they push past her and speed walk down the hallway. 

Brielle drops her arms and turns to Ms. Newmark, plastering an exasperated smile on her face. “Teenagers, ya know?”

“They’re eleven,” I blurt out. I’ve held my tongue for so long, I just can’t let one more thing go. How ridiculous can this get. 

Brielle just shrugs and follows the twins and Dick, leaving Miranda and I alone with Ms. Newmark. 

“I guess I’ll see you next–”

Miranda doesn’t bother letting her finish her sentence before she’s sweeping out of the room, leaving me to catch up as usual. 

We exit the building in time to see Dick’s black SUV pulling out of the parking lot. We stare after it silently before I’m brave enough to whisper, 

“They really weren’t happy to go with them.”

Miranda inhales deeply, holds it for the briefest moment, and then lets it out in a hiss. 

“We need to get back to work. Is the McQueen shoot confirmed for Tuesday?”

She’s already striding for where Roy is waiting in the silver tow car. I scramble after her, back in work mode. 

As I close my car door, I make another vow. 

Those girls won’t end up alone with Dick and Mommy Bri.