ready?”
Her head snapped up the moment we crossed the threshold.
“Excuse me,” she called, moving quickly to intercept us. “A word, please.”
I stopped.
Lily pressed close to my side.
“We’re going to our seats,” I said.
“We had an understanding.” She smiled viciously at Lily.
“We’re going to our seats,”
“No.” I stepped forward. “You had a demand. That isn’t the same thing.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s smile stayed pinned in place, but her eyes hardened.
She glanced at the arriving parents, then lowered her voice.
“I’ve spoken with the photographer. There’s a seat reserved for Lily in the back row. Behind the risers. She’ll still receive her diploma. She simply won’t appear in the class portrait.”
“You want to hide her.”
“There’s a seat reserved for Lily in the back row.”
“I want to preserve the ceremony for everyone.”
“She is part of everyone. And your reserved seat is not acceptable.”
Mrs. Hargrove’s jaw tightened.
“Then she can remove the scarf. That would solve the entire matter. Surely her hair has grown enough by now to look almost pretty.”
Lily flinched beside me.
“Then she can remove the scarf.”
I had never in my life wanted to slap someone so badly.
“Her hair is not the point,” I said. “And neither is your photograph. My daughter is here to graduate.”
“I’m the PTA president. I have the authority to seat this ceremony as I see fit.”
“Then seat it. We’ll be sitting exactly where her name card says. And if we can’t see well, then I guess we’ll stand.”
“My daughter is here to graduate.”
I stepped around her.
She reached for my arm, then pulled back at the last second when a couple walked past us.
Appearances, always appearances.
Lily and I moved down the aisle.
I felt Mrs. Hargrove’s eyes drilling into my back the entire way.
“Mom,” Lily whispered as we sat, “you said you wouldn’t embarrass me… please don’t make it worse.”
I stepped around her.
“I’m not going to make it worse, sweetheart. I’m going to make it right.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are the bravest, strongest person I know, and you don’t have to be small for anyone. Not today. Not ever. You fought to be here, now please let me fight for you.”
The orchestra began tuning.
Mrs. Hargrove climbed the side steps of the stage and conferred with the principal, gesturing sharply toward our row.
“I’m going to make it right.”
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