I walked reluctantly down the hall and into a small, brightly lit classroom. I resented this time of year, when, as parents, we are expected to want nothing more than to partake in every aspect of the extra curricular activities school policy forces our little darlings into.
I never wanted to be one of those parents, the ones that sew costumes and build dioramas or join the PTA, and I'm not, but the social expectation from the other parents of Lima Valley Academy's young wonders, called for a certain level of enthusiasm and involvement in our children's academic affairs. It was a no holes barred pain in the ass, but it has to be done. Now, that's not to say I don't think it's a great school, because there would be no further cry from the truth. LVA is one of the most acclaimed private schools in the state of Ohio; parents put their names on a waiting list before their precious angels have even been conceived. Luckily, we did not have to go to those extremities. Noah's best friend, Finn, happens to be the school's principal, leaving us fortunate enough to evade such protocol, which worked out nicely as our little darling, came as quite the surprise. Let's just say there was large quantities of tequila, bruised egos and broken hearts, and leave it at that.
Initially, we were both thrown into a mutual state of panic, neither of us knowing exactly what was to be expected when raising a child; practically running to the emergency room every time Emily so much as hiccupped. Titling us as nervous wrecks was putting it kindly. But five years later, we pretty much have the parenting thing down to a tee, and the extra set of hands that comes in the form of Noah's girlfriend, Quinn, doesn't go unappreciated. I was surprised when she agreed to climb aboard the parenting train, she had been so reluctant when I first revealed I was pregnant. She and Noah had been broken up at the time of conception, gotten back together and broke up again after the news of our soon arrival became a public entity. But she came around shortly after Emily was born and has been there ever since.
Now, we work, so far successfully, as part of a tri-parenting unit. Unfortunately, today I was forced to fly solo as both Noah and Quinn were on call at the hospital where we all worked as surgeons.
Just as it had been last year, all the tiny chairs were pushed to one side of the classroom in order to make room for more adult appropriate sized ones, a colorful array of artwork adorned the walls and a large bookshelf ran the length of the back wall; an assortment of baked goods was neatly placed on a table to the right of the room, along with tea and coffee, fellow parents huddled together in closed circles, chatting and showing off their child's lastest masterpiece. I stood alone, staring at the pictures on display, spotting my daughter's own collection of creativity, I felt a surge of pride swell in my chest. Yes, in actuality, it sucked. Not to be harsh, but I was nothing if not realistic, it was nothing more than odd shapes and purple clouds, but to a mother's eyes, was the greatest artwork in existence. One particular drawing caught my attention, it was a picture Emily had drawn of our family, Noah, Quinn, she and I at the park, doing what I can only assume is feeding green ducks, the assignment title was 'Something that Makes Me Happy', I couldn't hide the broad smile that stretched across my face, and, for the first time tonight, I was happy that I was the one of the three of us that got to be here.
Yes, it may all seem very sappy, but my usual persona isn't so soft. I have quite the reputation for being a hard-ass, grade A bitch, but I can help the other side of me that emerges only in matters to do with my daughter.
Twelve months ago, our trio arrived at this very same building, all beyond excited and eager to get involved in whatever aspect of our child's education and creative development, that we could, however, within 15 minutes of being at the meeting, we had all realised that we were better suited to being passive contributors. It's not that we didn't want to get involved per say, on the contrary actually, we all loved to consume ourselves with everything 'Emily' at any given opportunity, it was the other parents and pre-schoolers that we quickly tired of.
These meetings were held in October of every year for parents to volunteer for the school's large variety of extra curricular activities; naturally, last year being Emily's first year of pre-school, we all jumped at every available chance to help, that we were offered, Noah dove right in as babies soft ball coach, Quinn as baby yoga instructor (I know right? Babies doing yoga? But I gotta admit, it was unbelievably adorable) and I offered my services to the musical theatre department; it had all seemed like a really great idea to begin with, but we quickly learned how wrong we really were, there's that saying, 'never work with children or animals', I have never encountered a truer statement in my entire life.
The trouble dealing with kid's of the age of three and four, is that they have extremely short attention spans. Teaching them a dance routine was next to impossible and I had literally ended up with a bunch of toddlers running frantically in circles and flailing their arms about, and, to my own fault, I had attempted to explain the concept of projecting their voices so that even the 'mommies and daddies in the very back' could hear, this endeavor had resulted in a loud, shouting chorus of 'Jingle Bells', and my tried and failed efforts to successfully portray the Nativity Story, had ended with headless donkeys, a legless baby Jesus and a crying shepherd. And that was only the tip of the ice berg, there was also the task of dealing with angry parents who believed their little treasures deserved every lead role and solo and didn't take kindly to being told the harsh reality that they're child is talentless and sings like a strangled seagull. Noah and Quinn were no more successful but at least their contributions weren't available on dvd for all to relive over and over.
Noah, Quinn and I had sat down a week ago to discuss a plan of action for this event. We didn't want to look like lazy, uninterested parents but, as if putting ourselves through last year's torture wasn't enough, this year we would be faced with the growing egos of kindergarteners, so a plan was most definitely essential. We had agreed that we all still wanted to take part in some form or another, but that we could tell a few white lies and pull the 'hectic life of a surgeon' card, to as to avoid being heavily depended upon. This plan was all well and good when we had power in numbers but the other two had been paged to emergency surgeries which left me to face the PTA alone. I was by no means weak, but I had an affinity for being brutally honest which resulted in my utter incapability to lie convincingly and these wasp-y mothers were not easily manipulated, so that was out.
"Good evening everyone." The familiar voice of Finn Hudson, silenced the room's buzzing chatter, "If everybody would please take a seat so we can begin."
The obedient crowd followed their instructions immediately; I was sure to grab a seat in the centre of the room, no one ever picks out people in the middle, they pick the obviously eager people at the front and catch out the lazy people who sit in the back with the hope of going unnoticed. My dash for a middle seat didn't go unnoticed by Finn, who smiled warmly and winked at me knowingly. I have always been quite fond of Finn, we met years ago through Noah, the two were practically like brothers and I was instantly taken by how kind he was; he was handsome, in a goofy sort of way, and freakishly tall with a crooked school boy smile, if you didn't know him, you'd never peg him as a school principal, football coach perhaps, but he didn't exactly exhibit an obvious air of authority; his wife, Rachel, was a hobbit of a woman, not much to look at in my opinion (and I have exsquisite taste, bar one or two minor indiscretions, sex with a guy being one of them, but that's a story for a different time), she ran a small, surprisingly successful theatre company and was quite easily the most irritating individual I could have ever been forced to associate with. But our little group had become somewhat of a warped style of family in a way.
Once everyone was seated, Finn handed the floor over to the class teacher, Ms. Cohen-Chang. Ms. Cohen-Chang was a pretty, very eager woman, she was generally pleasant from my very few, brief, encounters with her but Finn has told us she's not a complete pushover, she instigates discipline where appropriate and is very good with the kids; Emily likes her and seems to be learning something so the woman's gotta be doing something right.
"Welcome everyone, as you know, my name is Ms. Cohen-Chang and I would just like to take a moment to thank you all for coming here tonight, it's so inspiring to see parents enthusiastic about getting involved in our school community! Now down to business, unfortunately, you can't all do everything." I laughed inwardly to myself at how genuinely disappointed some of the parents in the front row looked at this statement. "But we have come up with a system that will allow everyone the chance to take part in something." A round of applause erupted at the newest piece of information. "Without further adieu, I will hand you over to our PTA chairwoman, Laura Hemsworth."
Another round of applause flowed through the room as Laura took her place at the top of the class.
"Hello everyone." She began cheerfully. I struggle to recall a time when I've seen this woman without an eerily large grin on her face, she was either permanently hepped up on happy gas, or her extensive amount of botox had frozen her face into that position, either way, I found her uncomfortable to look at for too long at a time, so averted my eyes every few minutes. "As always, we have a fantastic turn out here tonight, so thank you all for coming. Now this year, we will be doing things a little differently..." A low gasp ran throughout the room at the mere mention of a change to the carefully thought out, tried and tested system. "While everyone will still get their opportunity to volunteer with whatever activities they have chosen, we have made slight adjustments to our musical theatre department, because this year Lima Valley Academy is happy to welcome a brand new drama teaacherr." She sang in a squealing fashion which earned murmurs of praise from the front row. I released a sigh of relief at the revelation, safe with the knowledge that the egos and tantrums and all else involved, would be left in the charge of someone else. "However," Oh here it was, I had rejoiced too soon, "since Ms. Lopez did such a wonderful job with last year's production, we hated the thought of taking the position entirely away from her, so myself and the other committee members have voted that Ms. Lopez as well as Ms. Connor, who has requested involvement in this year's production team, act as assistant directors one and two, if, of course that is ok with you Santana?" My heart sank when all anxious eyes turned their attention to me, I wasn't even given the opportunity to decline as the other parents began to cheer and sing my praises, thanking me for taking on the role again. Great. How could any of them seriously think last year's production was a success? Was this some cruel joke?
Laura went through the rest of the list, distributing jobs to all who had voted, I was told to inform Noah, that he had once again been elected as soft ball coach and that Quinn would be helping with the theatre department as assistant dance coach and costume designer, which led me to question the legitimacy of the voting cards we had been sent in the parent pack, as I know for a fact Quinn would never sign up for costume duty, I doubted the girl had ever even used a sowing machine or been in a fabric store for that matter.
I silently delighted when the room was forced to settle down after the excitement of being allocated tasks and Ms. Cohen-Chang once again took to the floor.
"Now, I know you're all probably tired, and eager to get home your angels, but we just have one final item on the agenda," I sighed at the dramatic pause she used to seemingly build tension; "Ladies and gentlemen, I am very proud and happy to introduce to you, the newest member of our staff and head of the theatre department, Miss Brittany S. Pierce."
Everyone clapped overzealously as the door opened revealing our mystery theatre head. The noise around me seemed to fall silent as piercing blue eyes connected with mine, upon entry, they were like two deliciously inviting swimming pools that I could happily drown in; her hair fell in soft curls and she wore the brightest, most magical smile I had ever seen. All my previous reluctance and deflation seemed to evaporate with a single look. She was magnificent.
I was so awe struck by the beautiful woman before me, that I had barely noticed when she began to speak, but once I did, I hung on her every word, savoring the lyrical sound as though it was rare and precious.
"Thank you all for such a wonderful, warm welcome. I am super excited to be here and look forward to getting to know all of you better." It was probably my wild, wishful imagination but I could have sworn that last part was directed at me. Stop being so vain Lopez, it's obviously a prepared speech, she just happened to be looking in the direction of this side of the room, I mentally chided myself, returning my full attention to the stunning blonde. "I am confident that we can make this year's winter event, Lima Valley's most memorable yet."
I must have zoned out for longer than I thought because that appeared to be her closing line as the crowd rose to their feet with thunderous applause.
I lingered a little longer than was necessary after the meeting. The room had almost completely emptied out with only a few parents left behind, scheduling event meetings and such. I noticed a flash of blonde curls out of the corner of my eye, finally left alone, I approached her, slight panic overtaking me as my mouth completely dried out and my palms began to sweat. Seriously? What age am I? Twelve?
"Hi." I opened bravely, thankful that it had come out respectfully coherent.
The taller woman turned around with the same dazzling smile that she had shown earlier. "You must be Santana Lopez." She spoke warmly, extending her hand in salutation; it was the most beautiful my name had ever sounded. "Brittany S. Pierce. It's really nice to meet you."
I smiled just as broadly back at her, probably a little over enthusiastically and completely unlike me; taking her hand in mine I felt a surge of chemical electricity flow through my body at the contact; barely composing myself, I managed to reel in the cheesy grin and respond. "It's nice to meet you too. I look forward to working with you."
"And I, you." She said sweetly, never breaking the contact of our hands. "I think we'll have a lot of fun."
Her voice oozed what sounded distinctly like flirtation, but I didn't want to risk being presumptuous and so decided it was time the hand holding came to an end for fear that the flirtation was nothing more than a produt of my wicked imagination.
Just as I went to continue the conversation, my phone sounded in my pocket, Justin Bieber's 'Mistletoe', Emily's choice; I blushed slightly before excusing myself.
"Hi sweetie… Yeah, I'll be there soon. Love you too." I turned back to the blonde, giving her an apologetic smile.
"I gotta go… I guess I'll see you Friday?" I could hear the eager hopefulness in my voice and inwardly cringed.
"I guess so." Her smile never faltered. Just as I reached the door she spoke up, once again, garnering my attention.
"Oh and Santana, it was great to meet you."
I swallowed back the large nervous lump that had formed in my throat.
Friday suddenly seemed like a painful lifetime away.