“Keith Adams.”
“Hello, Mr. Adams. This is Nurse Grace from Merida’s school. Is this a good time to talk to you?”
“Yes, of course.” I sit upright in my chair. “Is Mere fine?”
“Merida’s okay, nothing to worry about. But she had her first period at school and isn’t feeling very well, cramps…you know. I’d suggest you pick her up and take her home for today.”
I’m frozen in place as the nurse continues to talk about my daughter. I’m imagining Mere sitting in the nurse’s room all worried.
“Um, Mr. Adams, are you there?”
“Period? Are you sure?”
“Ah…yes. There is usually not much doubt in such situations.” She lightly chuckles before her voice sobers. “Merida soiled her skirt while coming to school and we provided her a spare one from here.”
Fuck! My poor baby girl.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes and please take care of her, Nurse Grace.”
“Mere, we can talk about this. Do you have any questions?” I ask my daughter who has been sitting silently in the passenger seat for the last ten minutes.
“No, Dad, I don’t want to talk about anything.” She shakes her head as her chin dips down. Is she embarrassed or still upset with me?
“Mere—”
“Please, Dad, can we just go home?”
I glance her way and her sad, dull face kills me. It should have been Melanie driving her home on such an important day in her life. I don’t even know the right thing to say to her.
As soon as we reach home, Mere bolts for her room and locks the door.
“Mere. Open the door, sweetheart. Please.” I knock softly.
“Leave me alone, Dad.” Her words followed by gentle sobs break my heart.
At the same time, Clementine walks down the stairs. She looks at me standing outside Merida’s door. Just like last week, she doesn’t smile or wave at me but ducks her head and dashes toward the front door.
“Clementine...wait.”
“I’m sorry, Keith. There is no other way outside. Please don’t be angry.”
Her words make me feel two feet smaller.
“No, it’s not that. I need your help. Mere…was sent home from school,” I stammer.
“Is she all right?” Her head jerks to Mere’s room before she takes the few steps to my daughter’s door.
“Mere?” Clementine gently knocks, but when she gets no response, she peers at me in confusion. “What happened?”
“She, um, had her first period.” I look at her helplessly.
Clementine winces. “At school?” Her forehead crinkles as if imagining Mere. When I nod, she knocks again. “Mere, honey, open the door,” Clementine urges in a softer tone, before looking at me. “First time?”
“Yeah. We never talked about this. My mother talked to Mere some years back.” I shrug and rub my face with my hands. I thought I’d have a little time before we had this discussion.
“I can hear you,” Mere mumbles from the other side and I’m so happy to hear her soft voice.
“Please, baby, open the door.” I knock again and she thankfully listens this time. I’m about to enter when my daughter wedges herself between the half-open door and the doorframe.