But the third thing that happened on Wednesday was the one none of them had planned for. Noah came home from school with a note from the school teacher, a young woman named Miss Aldrich, who'd been in Harland Creek for two years and who Clara had spoken to exactly twice both times pleasantly. The note was short. Mr. Callahan, there have been complaints from parents about the influence your household arrangement may have on the children of this school.
Until the matter of Miss Whitfield's background and intentions is formally resolved, I must ask that Noah be kept home. I am sorry for the inconvenience. E. Aldrich. Clara read it first because Noah had handed it to her and she'd opened it without thinking and for a moment she just held it.
Then she set it on the table face down. Noah was watching her. He'd clearly already understood the shape of it even if he hadn't read the words. "What does it say?" He asked.
"It says the school teacher has heard some things about me and isn't sure what to do with them yet." Clara said. Noah's face went tight. She's keeping me home for now. "That's not right."
"No," Clara said. It's not. "Are you going to fix it?" She looked at him. 8 years old, standing in the kitchen doorway with his jaw set and his eyes hot with something that was half anger and half the specific hurt of a child who has just learned that the world is willing to take things from him because of someone else's choices.
"Yes," she said, "but not today." Today I'm going to make supper. Tomorrow I'm going to go see Miss Aldrich. "I want to come," he said. No, Clara.
Noah. She said his name the way she'd learned to say it with affection in it, but no give. Some things a person has to do alone. This is one of them. I need you to trust me.
He looked at her for a long moment. Then he said, "I do trust you." And he went upstairs. Clara stood in the kitchen for a moment after he was gone, the note face down on the table, and she breathed in slowly and breathed out. And then she turned to the stove and started making supper.
When Ethan came in and she showed him the note, she watched his face go through three things very quickly. Shock, anger, and then a white-edged fury that was quieter and more dangerous than the loud kind. He reached for his coat. "Ethan," she said. "I'm going to see Aldrich."
"You're not." She stepped between him and the door, not blocking him. She was cleareyed about the fact that she couldn't block a man that size if he truly wanted to move. She just stood there in front of him and looked at him until he looked at her. "You're not going.