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“Yes, they’re in my backpack somewhere.” He shoved a piece of cookie in his mouth, wiped his hands on a napkin and rummaged through his pack.
He reminded Emily of a chipmunk. But his hazel eyes were too serious for such a mischievous creature. He might be cute, if he’d lighten up.
“Here it is.” He triumphantly produced a wire-bound pad of paper, suitable for taking notes in class.
He paged through until he found the appropriate section.
Sliding it across the table, he pointed to a row of figures.
“Those are the projected costs, minus the monies we’ve brought in through various fund-raising projects of our own.”
“Yes, I think I remember hearing about a car wash?” Emily had tried to block out any information pertaining to Patrick Stevens. Apparently, she’d failed. “And a bake sale?”
He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, the kids are pretty industrious once they get their hearts set on something.”
“Yes, they are.” Emily swallowed hard, then glanced away, unable to meet his earnest gaze. His obvious affection for his students stung. Why couldn’t he have been that way with Jason? It might have made a world of difference to the boy. Instead, her son had been rejected by yet another male authority figure. She’d sometimes wondered if Jason’s pranks had been a bid for attention, a clumsy way to connect with this reserved man.
Instead, Patrick Stevens had been cold and unyielding. And Emily’s heart had broken as she’d watched Jason build a wall around his emotions. Her once fun-loving, affectionate son had grown sarcastic and rude. Prepubescent hormones were one explanation. But Emily thought his attitude was probably more the result of one disappointment too many coming from a father figure.
Of course, Emily shouldn’t blame the teacher. Loving his students wasn’t in his contract. Nor trying to understand them.
“Ms. Patterson?”
Emily flushed. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I pointed out the figure we’ll need from the PTO funds. Tiffany didn’t seem to think it would be a problem.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of money. I’ve seen the PTO budget and I can’t help but wonder why Tiffany agreed to this.”
“She mentioned having some special fund-raising project in the works for the spring that would make it possible.”
“What kind of special project?”
“That’s just it. I have no idea. She wouldn’t say. Just said it was big.”
“I’ll talk to Principal Ross. Maybe she knew about it. Something that big would need to be planned well in advance.”
“Time is critical, Ms. Patterson. The hotel and bus companies are pressing for deposits. We have enough from our own fund-raising, but I don’t want to make a nonrefundable deposit if there’s a chance the PTO won’t come through on what’s been promised. I need to know right away.”
“Mr. Stevens, obviously I can’t commit to something I know nothing about. I’ll talk to the principal, see if she knows where the rest of Tiffany’s notes might be. In the meantime, Principal Ross is putting my name on the PTO account. I can’t access the bank statements until then.”
“Can’t Ross access them?”
Emily shook her head. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this. “There was some mix-up at the bank and Principal Ross was removed as a cosigner. After the treasurer moved to Texas in November, Tiffany was the only one with access.”
Patrick cursed under his breath. He seemed to swear a lot for a dispassionate guy.
EMILY SET A STACK of paper plates in the center of the large picnic table she used for a kitchen dinette set. Nancy’s husband, Beau, was working tonight, so she and Ana were staying for dinner.
“So maybe Tiffany was playing fast and loose with the PTO funds?” Nancy’s eyes sparkled with interest as she folded paper napkins and arranged them with plastic cutlery. “I knew there was something about that woman.”
“I didn’t say that. We won’t know anything until one of us can access the account. Principal Ross said she’d go to the bank tomorrow and straighten it out.”
“But still, it’s a little strange, don’t you think? Only Tiffany’s name as signatory on the account?”
“Shh. I don’t want to start any rumors.” Emily nodded meaningfully toward the family room, where her two younger boys, Mark and Ryan, played hide-and-seek with Nancy’s daughter, Ana.
Jason had basketball practice and Jeremy was playing at a neighbor’s house.
Nancy sighed. “My bad. I guess I was hoping to dig up some dirt on the woman. She was just trying too hard to be perfect. And was downright mean, to boot.”
“I hope all of this turns out to be an honest mistake. The whole PTO thing is getting more complicated by the minute. Patrick Stevens is pressing me to release funds for the sixth-grade trip to Sea World.”
“You obviously need all the facts before you can do something like that. What’s his hurry?”
“He has good reason.” Emily put out a large bucket of the Colonel’s chicken, along with containers of coleslaw and baked beans. “Hotel and transportation deposits need to be made. But there’s nothing I can do.”
“This is more than you bargained for, huh?” Nancy’s voice was warm with concern.
“You don’t know the half of it. The PE teacher gave me some brochures for sports equipment. The art teacher mentioned how desperately we need art supplies. And the music instructor showed me how old and worn-out the band instruments are.”
“Sounds like a lot of pressure, Em.”
“It is. And there’s a part of me that thinks the money Tiffany supposedly promised for the Florida trip could be put to better uses.”
“It’s a tough call, no doubt about it. But if you find Tiffany’s notes and she already promised the money, you’ll be hard-pressed to back out now.”
“That’s just it. I’ll be damned if I do and damned if I don’t. It might be best if Tiffany’s notes aren’t found. Then I can at least do what my conscience says is right.”
Nancy squeezed her arm. “Let’s look on the bright side. Maybe her fabulous spring fund-raiser will bring in so much money, you’ll be able to please everyone.”
Emily nodded. “Maybe.”
But as a single mom on a tight budget, she knew all too well there was rarely enough money to go around and someone always ended up mad. And it was starting to look like Patrick Stevens might be the angry one if the PTO budget was tight.
PATRICK ARRIVED at school well before the first bell. It had become a tradition.
And sure enough, he saw two figures huddled in the doorway, their thin coats probably affording very little warmth. It had been a mild winter for upstate New York, but mornings were still chilly. “Hey Ari, Kat. You look like you could use some hot chocolate.”
The two kids turned, nodding.
“The usual spot?” he asked.
They nodded again, following him to a bench near the doors.
Though Patrick walked slowly, he still reached the bench before them. He turned and waited.
Ari’s gait was erratic, one foot turned inward. His twin sister, Kat, slowed her pace to match his.
Patrick swallowed hard as he remembered another boy with a less pronounced pigeon-toed gait. A boy who had once run, laughed and played, but was developmentally little more than a toddler now.
He pushed the thought away. He couldn’t take that trip down memory lane.
When they’d settled themselves on the bench, Patrick withdrew a thermos from his backpack. He would have preferred a strong cup of coffee, but this ritual was for Ari and Kat.
He poured the steaming mixture into three cups.
The children waited patiently while he handed them each a foam cup.
The expressions in their huge, dark eyes were unreadable. Someone’s stomach growled.
“I hope you guys will help me out.” He withdrew a packet from his backpack. “I have these muffins that will go stale if someone doesn’t eat them. I thought maybe you two could help.”
“Yes, Mr. Stevens, we’ll help.” Kat spoke for both of them as she often did.
“Good.” He handed them each a banana-oat muffin, wishing it was a four-course hot breakfast. Their parents were immigrants, both working sixteen-hour days to make ends meet. Sometimes, he suspected there wasn’t enough food in the house.
Patrick sipped his hot cocoa, wondering if the kids thought it strange they didn’t go inside where it was warm. But they never asked, so he was spared explaining that it wasn’t prudent for a teacher to show a special interest in a child behind closed doors. He could understand the practical reasons, but it still saddened him.
Instead, they sat, shivering, right in front of the school, where they were appropriately supervised by anyone who might drive or walk by.
“I read…the book,” Ari said. His speech was a bit slow because of cerebral palsy, but his mind was sharp. He’d been mainstreamed several years back and had done fine. Of course, he also had his own personal guardian angel in the form of Kat.
“What did you think of the book, Ari?”
“Dolphins are smart and nice,” he enunciated slowly.
“Yes, they’re good animals. There are lots of true stories of dolphins keeping humans from drowning.” Funny, how he could say the word drowning without even flinching. Progress perhaps?
Ari’s eyes were bright with excitement. “I…will…swim with the dolphins. At Sea World.”
The thought made Patrick’s stomach churn.
“Sure, we’ll see the dolphins. I think you can even pet them from a boat.”
“No.” His reply was emphatic. “Swim.”
Anything but that.
For the first time he could remember, Patrick ignored Ari. “What about you, Kat, did you read the book?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to see the dolphins and penguins?”
She hesitated, as if afraid to believe in something that would turn out to be a fairy tale. “I’ll go if Ari goes.”
“Good. You guys worked really hard at the car wash.”
There was no way in hell he’d allow this trip to die. He’d promised all the sixth-graders, but most importantly, he’d promised Ari and Kat.
Emily Patterson would just have to do the right thing.
EMILY SIGHED when she hung up the phone, eyeing her overflowing In basket. Now she knew why it was mostly stay-at-home moms who were PTO presidents. She was in the unenviable position of having to ask to leave early two days in a row.
She found her boss in her office. “Olivia, the principal from the school called and wants to meet with me.”
Olivia gave her a pitying look. She probably assumed it was about Jason again.
Emily’s conscience twinged, but she didn’t correct her. She didn’t want her job jeopardized because of her PTO position.
Fortunately, Olivia was understanding. “Voice mail can pick up the phones. And you said you’d work through your lunch hour tomorrow?”
“Yes, I will. Thanks a bunch, Olivia.”
Her boss nodded. “Go.”
Emily grabbed her purse, forwarded the phones and left in a matter of minutes. She was breathless when she reached Principal Ross’s office, following Patrick through the door.
“Good, you’re both here,” the principal said. “Please close the door.”
Emily’s heart sank.
“Please, sit.” The woman sat behind her desk and nodded toward two chairs.
Patrick pulled out one of the chairs slightly and gestured for her to sit down.
His courtesy flustered her.
But she sat.
And so did he, in the chair next to her. They were practically knee-to-knee in the small office.
Principal Ross cleared her throat. “What I have to say is rather difficult. I expect it to stay in this room. Not to be repeated to anyone.”
“Of course,” Patrick said.
“Yes, of course,” Emily murmured, aware that she’d probably already shared too much with Nancy. But Nancy was discreet and wouldn’t repeat the information.
“I spent several hours at the bank today. The PTO account was in complete disarray. But the gist is, there’s only a few dollars left.”
Patrick stiffened. “There’s got to be some mistake.”
“I’m sorry, there’s no mistake. The branch manager checked and rechecked the figures while I was there. I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to contact the police.”
“Do you have any idea where the money went?” Emily asked.
Marilyn Ross’s mouth turned down at the corners. For a moment, Emily was afraid she might cry.
