NINE

THE DINING room was bathed in early morning light, as the sun shone through the large windows. A soft breeze drifted in, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers.

    Brad and his daughter, Nora sat at the table, each lost in their own thoughts while Mrs. Hopkins bustled around the kitchen, making sure everyone had what they needed.

    Brad was so engrossed in reading the morning paper that he barely noticed what was happening around him. As he reached for his coffee to take a sip, his eyes drifted for a second, and caught a glimpse of his daughter with eyes fixed on her breakfast. She absentmindedly poked at her cereal, taking a few half-hearted bites, but leaving most of it untouched. She sat hunched over, her shoulders rounded, a far cry from her usual bubbly self. Something was clearly bothering her, and Brad's parental instincts kicked in.

    He set his paper down and turned to his daughter, concern etched on his face.

    "Hey, sweetie," he said, his voice gentle. "Is everything okay? You seem a little down this morning." 

    The girl glanced up at him, her eyes lacking vitality. "I'm just not really hungry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

     Brad's brow furrowed. "Really? Why? Do you feel sick? Did you not sleep well last night?" he asked, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

    "I did sleep well and I'm not sick." Nora paused, took a deep breath, and then continued, "But, Dad..." She glanced up at him, her expression a mixture of fear and hope. "Can I just be homeschooled?"

    The solemnity in her voice took Brad by surprise. Homeschool? Where did that come from?

    Brad shifted in his chair. "You want to be homeschooled? But why?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. He knew she had been finding it difficult to be around other people of late but he always assumed his daughter liked the idea of going to a regular school, and she'd never said anything to the contrary. "Why do you want to be homeschooled?"

    "I just don't feel like going to school every day," she replied blandly.

    Brad exhaled, loosening up against the back of his chair. "Honey, you need to go to a regular school. I don't want you to miss out on all the things that other kids get to do. You need to relate more with people."

    "Well, people don't want to relate with me," she muttered under her breath but loud enough for Brad's overprotective ears to pick up.

    He straightened in his chair immediately, leaning closer to her. "What does that mean, honey? Are you having a hard time in school? Are kids bullying you or something?"

    "No! Nora snapped frustratingly. "It's just..." She took another lungful of air. "Dad, I appreciate your concern for my education, but I really don't think going to a regular school is the best option for me. I'm not comfortable socializing with other kids, and I think I would do much better being homeschooled. I don't want to miss out on important life experiences, but I feel like a traditional school setting is just too much of a hassle. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from." 

    He did not understand. He really didn't. In fact, he hated the idea. He wanted her to interact with kids her age. He wanted her to participate in whatever other kids were involved in. It was already a struggle getting her out of the house more often, now she wanted to be homeschooled. It was as if she was determined to lock herself out of the world.

    "I'm sorry, but I'm really not comfortable with this," he replied, his voice firm but not unkind. "I know you're not a fan of socializing, but I think it's important for you to learn how to interact with others. It's not just about your education, but also your overall development. Being homeschooled would isolate you from the world, and I don't think that's a good thing. I know it's hard, but I really think it's something you need to do."

    Nora stared at her father, her eyes brimming with frustration. "But I don't like being around other people!" she protested. "I know you think it's important, but I just can't do it. It's too stressful, and I feel like I don't belong. I'd rather be at home, where I can learn in my own way, without all the pressure and stress of a classroom." Tears began to well up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice quivering with emotion. "Please, just let me be homeschooled."

    Brad looked at his daughter, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "Seriously, honey, what is this about?" he said, his voice full of compassion. "If you're having problems in school you can just tell me and I'll go to your school right away and rectify it. I just can't agree to homeschooling. I'm worried about your mental health, sweetie. Isolation can be really damaging, and I don't want you to suffer. I want you to have friends, and to learn how to cope with social situations. It won't be easy, but I know you can do it. I just want what's best for you."

    "But I don't understand!" the girl cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Why can't you just let me do what's best for me? I'm not like other kids. I don't enjoy being around them. I just want to be at home, where I can learn the way I want to, without all the pressure. Why can't you see that?" She was practically pleading with him now, her voice desperate. "Please, just try to understand."

    He paused for a moment, taking in his daughter's words. He could see how important this was to her, and how upset she was. He knew he had to be firm, but he also wanted to be understanding. Above all, he knew there was something seriously going on in her school that was causing his daughter distress lately.

    He made a mental note to deal with it but for now...

    "I hear you, and I do understand what you're saying," Brad said, his tone softening. "But I have to think about what's best for you in the long run. Homeschooling may seem like a good option now, but it could have some serious consequences down the road. I just want to make sure you're making the right decision."

    Nora, knowing how staunch her father could be sometimes, knew it was time to stop arguing. "I'm going to be late for school," she said abruptly, pushing back her chair and standing up. "I'll do whatever you want, but I have to go." She turned, grabbed her stuff, and headed for the door, feeling angry and defeated. She didn't want to go to school, but she didn't want to keep fighting with her father either. She just wanted this whole situation to be over.

    Brad watched as his daughter walked out the door, her shoulders slumped in defeat. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he had pushed her too far. He knew she was just trying to do what she thought was best, but he also knew that homeschooling wasn't the right choice for her. He just hoped she would come to see that in time. In the meantime, he needed to speak to her teacher or principal. He needed to figure out what was going on.

    "Gosh, someone's in a sour mood this morning," Mrs. Hopkins said as she entered the room bearing a platter of warm, freshly-baked muffins, her cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to his daughter's dour mood. She set down the tray on the table. "What's going on with her?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

    Brad sighed, feeling a bit helpless. "She doesn't want to go to school," he said, rubbing his temples. "She says it's too much of a nuisance and she'd rather be homeschooled. But I just don't think that's the right option for her. However, I believe something is troubling her... Never mind, I get down to it." He paused, narrowing his eyes as she began to transfer the tasty-looking pastry to a large plate. "Are those for me? They look delicious but I think I've had my fill."

    She glanced at him with a facial expression that said, "What are you talking about?"

    "They're not for you," she said with a scowl. Then she beamed and proceeded to pile up the plate. "There are for our new renters. They moved in yesterday evening, do you know that?"

    "Oh?"

    "I'm going to say hello. You should come with me before you head to work."

    "Why?"

    "Why...? Er—Because it's neighborly," she retorted, with her hands on her hip. "And you know, you should take your own advice and interact with other people too."

    "What are talking about? I interact with other people on a daily basis," he replied defensively.

    "Yes, on a professional level. I'm talking about on a personal level. How many other people do you associate with apart from your clients and your employees?" 

    "Well... You...?" He lifted his brows and shoulders, hopefully.

    The older woman fixed him a long, speechless look, exhaled elaborately, and shook her head in disappointment as she went back to her task.

    Brad laughed softly at her reaction. Mrs. Hopkins was more of a mother than a housekeeper to him... and one sassy old lady. She'd been a truly great help to him that he didn't know what he would have done without her in his life as a single, working father.

    Just then, the sound of the doorbell ringing suddenly filled the air. All eyes turned towards the front door, wondering who could be visiting at such a time.

    "I'll get it... Since I'm already on my way out," Brad said, rising from his chair and heading towards the front door.

    "Thank you," Mrs. Hopkins called after him. "Have a pleasant day."

    "You too."

    When he reached the front door and opened it, he almost jumped out of his skin when he came face-to-face with Doris standing on the doorstep.

    "Doris!" 

    "Hello, Brad!" She replied jovially, her bright hazel eyes dancing.

    "Hello!"

    Brad's gaze fell to the small figure standing in front of her. He hadn't noticed the boy was there, but now that he saw him, he couldn't help but stare. The boy looked to be about three or four years old, with a head of unruly dark hair and dark green eyes. The eyes were what drew Brad in, for they were the exact hue as his own. It was so uncanny and a little unsettling.

    Then gradually, his eyes shifted back to Doris who was still wearing that naughty grin.

    "What are you doing here?" He merely whispered at last.

    "We came to say Hi," she replied casually, shrugging her shoulders. "We can come in, right?"

    And before he could respond to that, they pushed passed him, walking briskly into the house.