Shonee’s POV
I stood in front of the fireplace, reading Mirasol's schedule which hung on the wall.
WEEKLY SCHEDULE
8:30 AM - 9:00 AM: Morning Routine (Get dressed, breakfast, personal hygiene)
9:00 AM - 9:30 AM: Circle Time (Introduction, calendar, weather, and discussion)
9:30 AM - 10:15 AM: Language Arts (Storytime, basic writing skills & foreign language lessons)
10:15 AM - 10:30 AM: Snack Time
10:30 AM - 11:15 AM: Math (Counting, basic math concepts)
11:15 AM - 12:00 PM: Science/Exploration (Simple experiments, nature walk, observation)
12:00 PM - 1:00 PM: Lunch
1:00 PM - 1:30 PM: Etiquette classes (Dining & professional communication skills)
1:30 PM - 2:30 PM: Music Class (Introduction to music, singing, basic violin exercises)
2:30 PM - 2:45 PM: Snack Time
2:45 PM - 3:30 PM: Dance Classes (Waltz & Ballet lessons)
3:30 PM - 4:00 PM: Quiet Time (Rest or nap)
4:00 PM - 4:45 PM: Social Studies/Community Exploration
4:45 PM - 5:30 PM: Review of the day's activities
I read the schedule twice before mumbling, "Who the heck came up with this piece of junk?" I was no pre-school expert but come on! Half of the things on this schedule were too advanced for a five-year-old.
"Etiquette classes?" I slapped a hand on my forehead. No wonder she was blue and moody all the time. There was basically no space left in her life for fun.
Glaring at the absurd schedule for the last time, I headed over to the kitchen, remembering Jordin's advice from last night that I should try and find out what Mirasol likes. And I figured Gerta was the best person to talk to since she was the one in charge of Mirasol before my arrival.
"Hmm, I can't tell you much," the older woman said as she chopped up some cucumber for the salad she was making. "Vincent only hired me a year ago to manage the housework, so Mirasol wasn't really my focus and it helped that she was always quiet. But one thing I noticed she liked was her music classes. She loves to play her violin. Even on the days her teacher couldn't make it, you'd find her on the patio or in the garden, trying to learn on her own."
"An entire twenty-four-hour schedule and the only thing she loves on it is her music class?" I questioned in disbelief.
Gerta shrugged her shoulders. "It's still something."
"Yeah, but don't you think that's bad?"
A thoughtful look graced her features. "Well... sometimes I think it's too much, then I remember that since her father isn't around very often, he is doing whatever he can to keep his daughter preoccupied so she doesn't dwell on the past." Gerta set the knife down. "Mirasol wasn't homeschooled in the beginning. She used to go to preschool like any other normal kid, but then her mum passed away and her whole life changed. She became a completely different person and the kids at school weren't making it any better for her, so Vincent did what any concerned father would do. He pulled her out of school and gave her the best private education money could offer."
I sighed, rubbing my temples.
"I get that you are new and the whole schedule thing is strange in your eyes...but I think you should give it some time. Sit in some of the classes." Gerta laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you'll see how beneficial they are."
Taking Gerta's advice with a grain of salt, I found myself sitting in Mirasol's etiquette classes right after lunch.
The teacher, Mrs. Gutenberg, watched me with a curious look.
"Don't mind me." I put my hands up in surrender. "Just here to observe."
Mrs. Gutenberg pushed up her reading glasses and then turned to the setup she had laid in front of the preschooler. "Now Mirasol, you are at an exquisite French dinner in Paris with an extensive and carefully laid dinner set before you. Your first course is soup. Can you pick up the required spoon for that?"
Oh God. I slapped my forehead and Mrs. Gutenberg and Mirasol turned to me.
"Uh, sorry," I quickly apologized. "Please continue."
A pensive look graced Mirasol's features until she lifted her small hand and picked one spoon off the table.
Mrs. Gutenberg clapped her hands. "Very good, Mirasol."
The dining set test continued and just when I thought this etiquette class couldn't get any more silly, Mrs. Gutenberg brought in a mannequin on wheels. "Now Mirasol, this doll represents a prominent figure in French society. Your task is to engage in polite conversation with this distinguished guest. Remember, eye contact, a firm handshake, and courteous phrases are essential."
And that's it! I just had to get out because I was minutes away from turning everything upside down.
This wasn't what Mirasol needed. She was a five-year-old for crying out loud. She needed something appropriate for her age, something fun and creative, to bring out that playful side of hers that has been buried under years of boring etiquette class.
Then it hit me.
Art! That was the only thing that wasn't on her schedule.
What Mirasol needed was what I had a degree in. If I could get her some art supplies and a sketch pad, maybe I could bring out that creative and imaginative side.
Grabbing my purse, I dashed into town to get the stuff I needed.