Free The Good Mom by Cathryn Parry Page A

shutting him down.
    Brandon also wouldn’t like it when she discussed curtailing his weekend ball boy activities. At least twice a month during weekend home games, Brandon suited up and did what every kid in Boston wished they could do, too. And now she would have to force him to make some tough choices.
    He’s twelve. He’s old enough to make these basic choices. To understand consequences.
    She at least needed to talk with him now. Pave the way for a more difficult conversation this evening. She didn’t like that when she’d left him, she’d snapped at him. That wasn’t like her, and she didn’t want it to bother him.
    She went back to the desk where Dr. Pingree’s secretary sat. Ashley prepared to ask her to please allow Brandon to leave his class for ten minutes, in order to talk to her.
    The secretary behind the desk brightened and then hung up the phone when she saw her. “I’m glad you haven’t left yet, Ms. LaValley.” She held out a slip of paper to Ashley.
    â€œWhat’s this?”
    â€œBefore she left, Mrs. Sharpe asked me to give it to you.”
    Her heart pounding, Ashley unfolded the slip of thick, cream-colored stationery.
    Inside, there was no printed name or heading. Just a bold, cursive scrawl written firmly in black ink.
    Three lines: Aidan’s name. A Boston street address. A phone number.
    Her hand shook. Mrs. Sharpe, the spider. She probably thought she was being helpful.
    Ashley shoved the contact information into her purse. She had no intention of using it—or Vivian’s implied approval that Aidan should tutor Ashley’s son—but it reinforced to her that Vivian didn’t want to have any direct, face-to-face interaction with her.
    Fine. She was too tired to take offense right now. Too concerned about Brandon’s future.
    The most important thing this message showed was that the all-powerful woman didn’t have the power to keep her son from flunking out of the elite St. Bartholomew’s School. She thought that only Aidan could do that.
    Poor Brandon , she thought.
    * * *
    F IVE MINUTES LATER , Ashley met Brandon at the bench beside Headmaster Pingree’s office.
    He looked at her hopefully. “Will Dr. Lowe be tutoring me now?”
    Pushing away the guilt she felt for disappointing him, she shook her head and chose her words carefully. “Brandon, I want to make sure you’re okay. You got some big news today.”
    He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t want to see you worried.”
    â€œWhen you told me not to worry this morning, did you know that you’d failed the pretest?”
    He shook his head. “I found out for sure after you did.”
    â€œBut you suspected it?”
    He stared at his hands. “I try not to think bad things, Mom. I always try to think positive thoughts. You know that.”
    Yes, she did. That was important to him—she knew her son. And at least she could feel better that he hadn’t outright lied to her. “Could you help me understand something, Brandon? What happened with your studies this summer? You seemed to be working so hard.”
    He shrugged and didn’t meet her eyes. “There was so much to do. I guess I just didn’t get it.” He looked bewildered.
    â€œSchool has always been pretty easy for you.”
    â€œIt’s different here,” he mumbled.
    â€œI know. And Aunt Lisbeth used to spend hours locked in the library when we were kids. Maybe she studies differently than you do.”
    â€œI have a life, Mom,” he said indignantly.
    This was where it got sticky. She nodded. “I know you want to keep up with your friends and your social media. I know you want to suit up and be a ball boy this weekend, Brandon. But life is about choices. You need to decide which is most important to you.”
    â€œI can do both. My social life and school.”
    â€œPerhaps. But you aren’t