As for Chriselda, well, she was another matter. Angela sighed. She had of course discussed womanly virtues with her daughter, but it looked like it was time for another session. Perhaps in this session they would also discuss how not to deceive one’s parents, divulge family secrets, or make veins pop out in Daddy’s neck.
Angela sighed again.
They had arrived at the school precisely at 7 and looked for a place to park the children. There was free child care in the gym, but Angela had frowned upon the activities offered there; she disapproved of mixing arts with crafts. Dwight had felt it was a fire hazard to have several hundred schoolchildren in a gym with only high school National Honor Society students supervising. “They’re not even trained in CPR, I checked!” he had announced, “And those exits would become clogged with little bodies if there was a fire and everyone was trying to exit!”
They had settled the girls on a bench for the duration of the evening. Chriselda and Edrea had brought homework, Alarice had brought her knitting, and Geraldine and Matilda had a bag of books to share. They promised to sit quietly and not budge.
After quick trips to the first, second, third and fourth grade rooms, Angela and Dwight had entered the fifth grade room and immediately spotted Chriselda’s desk. They had carefully inspected the work on top of the desk, duly noting the A+ spelling test and the perfect geography quiz. Dwight had opened the desktop, and Angela had just been about to comment on her pride in her daughter’s neatness when Dwight had pulled a sheet of notebook paper out.
They both read it. Angela’s jaw tightened and she had felt Dwight stiffen up and draw his breath in sharply. “Chriselda Martine Halpert. Chrissy S. Halpert. Mrs. Patrick Halpert. Mr. Patrick James H. Schrute. Chriselda Martine Schrute-Halpert,” he had read in a deadly low voice.
Angela had been trying to process this in her mind when Dwight had marched up to the teacher and waved the paper in her face. “What is this? You are aiding and abetting a juvenile delinquent who is after my child!” he had sputtered angrily.
The teacher had taken a step back. “What?” she had said confusedly, taking a look at the paper, “Well, Chrissy and Patrick do sit next to each other, and they are friends, but that’s all I know!”
Dwight had glowered, and Angela laid a hand on his arm. Dwight had glanced at the paper again. “Halpert. Why is that so familiar? Did I hear that name on COPS?” he asked Angela.
The room had gotten quieter, as most of the other parents had edged out the door, so it was quite easy to hear when someone walked into the room and said, “Oh, my God!” Angela had spun around, intending to offer a piece of her mind about using the Lord’s name in vain. She had realized with a start that it was Jim and Pam, formerly of Dunder-Mifflin. Of course. Halpert. Angela had remembered the birth announcements that had come in the mail for Michael and the rest of the staff, one right around the time she was pregnant with Chriselda and the second when she had just had Geraldine.
They both had come forward, smiling, and Jim had offered his hand to Dwight. Dwight had looked at him suspiciously. “What is going on here?” he asked, “Is this a joke?”
Jim and Pam had both looked baffled. “No, we live about eight blocks from here, and our kids go here, and this is our son’s classroom,” said Jim.
“You mean the son who is trying to corrupt my daughter?” Dwight had demanded.
Jim and Pam had looked confused, and Dwight had shoved the paper under their noses. Angela had noted that they both had looked shocked, but really, they were good at feigning ignorance. She had known what had gone on during their Dunder-Mifflin days. She didn’t like this at all. Who knew what ideas this boy was filling her daughter’s head with?
“Dwight, our son is ten. He can’t corrupt anything,” said Pam. Jim had still stood, stunned.
“If I may interrupt,” said the teacher, looking as though she’d have liked to do anything but, “but kids this age sometimes don’t tell their parents about their little schoolyard romances. I haven’t noticed anything inappropriate at all between the two of them.”
“Well, people are good at hiding things, and this boy might be better at hiding things than you are at seeing, “said Dwight. The teacher had looked taken aback.
“Dwight, what is it exactly that you think is going on between our kids?” asked Pam incredulously. Angela had disapproved of her tone. Didn’t she know she was speaking to the Regional Manager of a renowned paper company? Or did she merely think Dwight was a scapegoat for more pranks?
“I think your son is trying to lure my daughter into lascivious happenings. She is just a child, and if you think that I am not aware that you put him up to this, you are wrong!” spouted Dwight, looking triumphant. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard,” said Pam. “Why is it ridiculous?” Angela had asked superciliously, “We all know what young men are after.”
“It’s ridiculous because he is ten years old and is still a child!” said Pam angrily. Jim had finally opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. As fate would have it, Patrick had chosen that moment to enter the classroom. He had started toward Pam, saying, “Mom, Jane won’t believe me that we can’t go on the playground. I told her it’s too dark, so will you please tell her?”
Angela had been so proud of how quickly Dwight jumped into action. He whipped a penlight out of his pocket and shone it in Patrick’s face. “What business have you with my eldest daughter?” he questioned authoritatively, and Angela pursed her lips in silent approval. Of course, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to the boy, but her daughter’s virtue was no trifling matter.
Patrick had looked scared, and Jim had stepped in and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Dwight, this is stupid. Patrick and your daughter are just friends, right Patrick?” he asked.
His face had blushed deep red and he had mumbled, “She’s kind of my girlfriend.”
Dwight had puffed his chest out and startled everyone by bellowing, “CHRISELDA SCHRUTE!” and Angela had walked over to the door to get her daughter as she came in the room. “Mom, what’s going on?” Chriselda had asked. Angela frowned. “First of all, you’re not wearing those green cargo pants any more. I knew those were a bad idea.” She had marched her eldest to the front of the room.
Dwight had looked at his daughter. “Am I in trouble?” she had asked him. “That depends,” he had replied, “What is your involvement with Patrick Halpert?”
Chriselda had jutted her chin out in a defiant expression that had made Angela feel like she was looking in a mirror. “He’s my boyfriend. We’re going out,” she had responded. Dwight had looked angry. “You’re not going anywhere right now, young lady. So as I understand, you were persuaded by this boy to ‘date’ him. Did he promise you things? Encourage you to deceive your parents?”
“Dad, no!” Chriselda had been outraged, and now looked very much like her father. “If you must know, I asked him out! And I didn’t tell you because you’d get mad!”
“I’m not mad!” Dwight had yelled, “I’m concerned for your virtue!”
“My virtue?” Chriselda had asked. “We don’t want you to travel down a path of corruption. No hand holding, because that leads to kissing. No kissing, because that leads to relations, which are only for married people,” Angela had answered imperiously.
Chriselda had still looked angry. “You got married in March, right, Mom? And my birthday is in--”
“Young lady, that’s enough from you!” Angela had interrupted hastily. Something like a grin had flitted across the faces of Jim and Pam, and she hadn’t like it at all.
Dwight had turned to Patrick again. “So you’ve never so much as kissed my daughter?” he had questioned. Patrick had shook his head and said, “No sir.”
“All right, this is ridiculous. We need to get home,” said Jim, “Dwight, Angela, it’s great to see you again, and I’m sorry you think we bribed our son to corrupt your daughter.”
Dwight had looked from one face to the other. “Fine. I can tell you’re telling the truth. But I don’t want these children to sit next to each other any more, Ms. Merrin.”
The teacher, who had been watching the proceedings in disbelief, sighed. “Fine, Mr. Schrute. But understand, I can’t make them not talk to each other. The best I can do is to rearrange their seats,” she had said wearily.
“Fine. The school board will be hearing from me,” said Dwight abruptly. Angela had glowered one last time, and then marched her husband and child out of the room. Chriselda had turned to wave goodbye to Patrick, and Angela had nodded brusquely to the Halperts.
She knew they should have home-schooled.
