Page 21 of A Dish Best Served Hot

“I know that,” he said. “But this label would follow her all through school and will affect how she’s treated by staff and other students. I don’t want that for her if it’s not a necessity and I don’t think it is.”

“You have every right as a parent to decline an evaluation just as you’d have every right to request one,” Lola said. “Sadly, we do know that Black, Latine, and Indigenous students are disproportionately labeled with disabilities over students of other races. I don’t blame you one bit for advocating for Rosie.”

Saint smiled and shook his head.

“What?” she asked.

“You haven’t changed at all,” he said.

She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t derail the conversation at hand, so instead she kept it as professional as possible. “I’ve heard that she doesn’t demonstrate the same behaviors at home, so I’d like to ask what you think is happening to cause this swing from one extreme to the other.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Rosie has never liked change and I know she can be stubborn.”

Lola almost asked him, sarcastically, where he thought Rosie got it from, but then she remembered Mrs. Fonseca sitting there observing her every word and determining her capability to work for El Vecindario in a permanent role.

“However, she’s never done anything like this. I figured she’d stop once she got used to coming to school, but she hasn’t. She still cries almost every day no matter who brings her. When I ask her if she hates school she says no, but when I ask her why she won’t talk she says she doesn’t know. She denies that anyone is messing with her. I tried to incentivize her with the rewards chart, but she couldn’t care less about it.”

Lola could hear the worry and frustration in his voice. She didn’t understand how anyone could think he didn’t care or was unconcerned. This was clearly a parent who cared about his child and was deeply upset about the situation. “Let’s take her silence off the table completely,” Lola said. “Are there any other concerns?”

“Like what?”

“When she’s at home, does she talk to you and others in complete sentences?”

He scoffed. “En casa ella habla hasta por los codos.”

Lola laughed. Benny would say the same thing about her constant stream of conversation.

“Does she show you any hint that she’s learning things at school and practicing those skills at home?”

“If I ask her what she did at school she will shrug and say she doesn’t remember. She fights me when it’s time to do her homework, but when we are playing around or we aren’t talking about school at all, she’ll do stuff.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Like the other day I told her that I needed help making a grocery list.” He scrolled through what looked like endless pictures of Rosie. “She did this.” He handed Lola his phone, which held a picture of Rosie holding up a small whiteboard. On the board, written in uneven and sometimes backward letters were the words “egz,” “mlk,” “brd,” and “fut.”

Lola smiled. “Eggs, milk, bread, and fruit.” She handed the phone to Dolores to look at.

Saint nodded. “I didn’t help her. She did that by sounding out the words herself.”

“She’s obviously learning letter sound correspondence,” Dolores commented before handing the phone to Mrs. Fonseca.

Lola nodded. “It’s been a while since I was in a preschool classroom,” she confessed to Saint. “But this is very normal for a child her age.”

He looked relieved.

She felt a softening toward him that she really shouldn’t. “Look, I’m not here to tell you what to do about Rosie.” That garnered a frown. “I haven’t been in the classroom for a few years and special education was never my area of expertise.” The frown deepened. He probably wondered what the hell she was doing taking over the classroom, then. Lola had to get things back on track. “But I do know some things about early childhood development and while I can’t speak to anything until I spend time with her, know that when I do I will be one hundred percent up-front with you. I take my job very seriously. From the moment your child passes the doorway, they become mine too and I’m a momma bear.”

He didn’t seem too impressed with her claim, so she tried to explain it in a way that she knew this former solider would understand. “My job is to teach them the curriculum, but my duty is to make sure my students feel safe, accepted, and free to grow as humans. I will do my duty to your daughter, Saint. That I promise you.”

He stared at her in silence for a few moments. “I’d like to believe you, Lola, but we both know you don’t always keep your promises.”

Lola sucked in a breath. She knew exactly what promise he was referring to. She’d promised to wait for him to come back from basic training. Instead, she’d disappeared in the middle of the night and left everything behind. Including him.

“I’m going to trust you, Lola. But she already feels responsible for her teacher leaving and thinks she’s bad because she can’t make herself talk. That’s not okay with me. I will not let my daughter continue to be hurt.” There was a definite threat in his words and somehow instead of getting mad, Lola was relieved. This was the Saint she knew. The one who put his family before all else and would go to any length to defend them even if it put him at odds with her.

“I get it,” she said. She liked knowing exactly where they stood, which was at opposite ends of the field.

Hours later Lola hobbled up the short stairs that led to the front doors of El Hogar and stifled a yawn. She’d forgotten how much energy it took to teach preschoolers. She taught Krav Maga multiple times a week and did yoga almost every day and she still felt like she’d been through a grueling workout. During her first day she’d given more hugs, calmed more breakdowns, done more squatting/kneeling, and danced more than she had in years. She made a mental note to wear shoes with tons of support from now on. Her heels were cute, but not practical for all the things a preschool teacher had to do.

If she had her way she would’ve headed straight home, had a hot shower, and finished off one of the hard ciders she’d gotten from a local brewery during a tour she’d taken with some coworkers a few days ago. However, Lola had promised Ruby she’d talk to Yara and she already felt terrible about not doing it the night before. She tried her best to always keep her word, especially when she gave it to one of the kids she helped. It was hard enough to earn their trust, so she would move mountains to keep it.

She pushed the buzzer and waited until she heard a matching buzz. She stepped through the door and gave Mariana, one of the overnight staff, a tired smile.

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