Page 23 of Bad Husband

Ms. Sadie clears her throat and turns from Madison to me. “Please understand I absolutely adore Callan. He is truly a one in a million student, and I know in my heart he is destined to accomplish great things. My concern, however, does lay in the fact that I fear Callan’s less than desirable behavior stems from boredom. He’s justso much moreadvanced than the other kids. I would suggest him skipping a grade, but I’m afraid because of his age, that wouldn’t be the best course of action for his emotional wellbeing.”

Madison again speaks before I have a chance. “So what would you suggest then?”

“Well, I was hoping maybe you both would be open to Callan possibly attending Primrose Academy. It’s a school for gifted students and Callan would be in a classroom with other likeminded children.”

“When you say like minds, what exactly do you mean?” Madison asks.

I’ve always known Callan was gifted, but I was thinking more along the lines of he may just be able to access nuclear codes or some weird shit like that.

“Well, as I’m sure you know Callan, has a far more advanced thought process. His interests and likes are usually more developed and thought out than most of the other students in his grade.”

“Are you saying he can’t relate to the other kids in his class?” I ask because I’ve sensed this already just at the one soccer practice I went to.

“I wouldn’t say he can’t relate to anyone. I would say he has a harder time relating to the boys in the class over the girls.”

Probably cockier than I need to be, I chuckle leaning to the side in the chair. “So he’s a ladies’ man?”

Madison may not sense my humor, but Ms. Sadie smiles, steely blue eyes entertained. “Basically, yes.”

My confidence soars to a new level. I grin at Madison and wink, draping my arm over her chair. “He takes after his father.”

Madison rolls her eyes, her lips thinned with irritation. She pushes me back in my seat next to her. “Stop it. This is serious.”

While I’m giving myself varying mental high-fives and fist pumps, Madison looks more concerned.

“Is it a problem the girls like him?” I can’t miss the concern in my wife’s voice, and I think maybe I should be taking this more serious than I have been.

Ms. Sadie considers Madison’s question and then shakes her head. “Well, normally no, but since we’re on the subject, it seems the girls have taken on a very possessive relationship with Callan. They are constantly competing with each other for his attention.” She’s back to talking with her hands. “During recess, Callan and the girls tend to gravitate toward the picnic benches where they have started a sort of origami club. It seems that the girls have taken on the task to try and outshine the other with more creative origami shapes in an attempt to impress Callan. There have beenseveralincidents of sabotage.”

Sabotage? I don’t know about you, but I’m picturing little girls with pigtails boxing next to the flag pole over my son’s attention. I guess maybe I don’t know anything about little girls.

“These are first graders doing this? Shouldn’t they be playing tag and swinging?” You have to admit you were thinking it too. What kind of six- and seven-year-olds act like this?

“And it’s not Callan’s fault the girls like him,” Madison notes.

“No, not at all.” Ms. Sadie smacks my head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I get a little excited when I talk.”

Ya think? Jesus.I rub the side of my head and stare at Madison. She probably paid the teacher to hit me.

Madison snorts, her laughter contained and waits for Ms. Sadie to explain. “You were saying?”

“I wanted you to be aware Callan has been asked to give his account of certain incidents, and while he has been honest, I can tell that it stresses him out when this occurs,” Ms. Sadie explains, finally folding her fucking hands on the table with a gentle sigh leaving her lips. “He just wants everyone to be happy and get along.”

And there you have it. While our son is far more advanced than other kids, he cares. He wants everyone to get along, including his mother and me.

“Does he get along with the boys?” I ask. After what I saw last night, I’m worried he doesn’t have any friends.

Ms. Sadie frowns. “It’s not often I see him with the boys. They tend to gravitate to the ones who play sports at recess and Callan doesn’t seem to have any interest in joining them. I think it’s easier for him to relate to the girls. They’re thoughtful and creative just like him.”

So he doesn’t have any friends but girls. While I wouldn’t necessarily describe this as a problem, I get why Madison and his teacher would be concerned.

I’m staring at Madison wondering how I can make this right when she glances over at me, and then turns her attention toward the teacher. “Well, thank you for your time.”

Ms. Sadie hands Madison a brochure on the school she suggested. “I just want you guys to consider it. I haven’t talked to Callan about it. I wanted to meet with you first, but I think you should look into it. Maybe take a tour and speak with their guidance counselor.”

Madison and I stand, together, and make our way silently to the parking lot. When we’re beside my truck, our eyes meet. “Is he weird, Ridley?”

She’s concerned and worried, and I don’t blame her. You don’t set out to have a child who’s different from others. It’s hard, and you feel bad for the child because they can’t relate to anyone, sometimes you included.

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