Читать книгу Four Little Problems - Carrie Weaver - Страница 11

EMILY TIPTOED into Ryan’s room and watched him sleep. This was what mattered. Not how much money was missing from the PTO fund and not how many teachers would probably hate her guts.

She recalled Patrick’s frown when he’d suggested she do what she needed to do. It had almost sounded like a threat, except for the tinge of sadness in his voice.

She brushed hair off Ryan’s forehead. He appeared so sweet and angelic when asleep. Faint traces of his red fruit-drink mustache were the only evidence of his night of six-year-old debauchery.

Smiling, she counted her blessings. Her children were precious and she wouldn’t trade them for anything. Not even a spotless, peaceful house.

Tiptoeing from his room, she stopped outside Jason’s door. A thin strip of light shone beneath.

Emily threw back her shoulders and prepared to do battle, when all she really wanted was a hot bath and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

She tapped softly and entered, allowing Jason enough time to cover up for modesty if he wasn’t dressed, but not enough time to hide serious mischief—like bomb-making or drugs. Sighing, Emily knew she would have been shocked to find Jason doing something illegal or dangerous. But then again, it was often the parents who were the last to know.

Her gaze swept the room till she located her son slouching on the bed. Fortunately, he was dressed and there were no signs of a felony in progress.

Emily suppressed an urge to grab him by his shirtfront and shake some sense into him. Instead, she perched on the edge of his bed. “We have a rule, Jase, because I think it’s important. You broke that rule tonight.”

“We were only studying.”

Emily mentally counted to ten. Not only was he lying, but by doing so, he implied she was too stupid to comprehend what she’d seen. “What? You were studying Cassie’s tonsils with your tongue?”

“Mom!”

“I thought I could trust you.” His betrayal hurt. She depended on him to take care of the smaller children.

“Really, we were studying. But we started kissing like two seconds before you got home and—”

“Even if I believed that, it means you weren’t watching your brothers during those few seconds. That’s all it takes for a child to drown or start a fire. I expect you to act responsibly when you’re in charge of your brothers.”

“Mark and Ryan are fine.”

“No thanks to you. Which brings me to my second point. A teenage girl and boy home alone together is not a good thing. I don’t care how trustworthy you are—and I like Cassie—but things get out of hand really quickly. I think it’s about time for us to have a refresher talk about pregnancy and STDs.”

His face blanched. “Please, Mom, not that. Can’t you just ground me?”

The irony made Emily want to smile. She was so incredibly uncool and embarrassing to her kids. But a smart mother used it to her advantage. “It’s late. I’ll spare you the safe sex discussion tonight. But we will discuss it. And until then, you’re grounded.”

Relief flashed in Jason’s blue eyes, so reminiscent of his father’s. Oh, how she loved this headstrong child. And how it terrified her that he might do something stupid to derail his life. “Choices, Jase. Every choice you make has the possibility of changing your life, good or bad.”

Jason’s eyes started to glaze over. She could tell he’d escaped to whatever alternate reality he inhabited when she lectured. Sighing, he said, “I’m tired, Mom.”

“Yes, so am I.” Bone tired from nonstop problems and decision-making. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jason?”

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

His frown deepened as if she’d used some horrible curse. She hoped, underneath his tough exterior, that he still enjoyed hearing his mom tell him she loved him. Because she intended to keep at it indefinitely. Some days, that was all she had to give.

When no response was forthcoming, Emily turned to leave.

“Mom?”

She stopped, her hand on the knob. “Yes?” Maybe he’d say those four little words she longed to hear.

I love you, Mom. She could almost see him as a pudgy toddler, handing her a wilted dandelion. What a sweet, sweet child he’d been. Until puberty.

Jason frowned. “What was he doing here?”

“Hm?” For a moment she’d forgotten their visitor. “Mr. Stevens stopped by to copy a disk containing PTO records.”

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“Um, you’re not, like, dating him or anything, are you?”

The horror in Jason’s voice made Emily laugh. The boy had a vivid imagination. “No, Jason, I’m not dating him.”

“WHAT AM I GOING TO DO, Nancy?” Emily almost forgot her problems as she took a bite of double cheeseburger. A large order of french fries beckoned, promising to make her forget her doubts. Two days had gone by since they’d retrieved the disk and Emily was no closer to figuring out a solution.

Nancy speared lettuce and marinated chicken, pausing to say, “I wish I had an easy answer, but I don’t. Looks to me like you have two choices. One, throw up your hands and declare the school year a disaster. Because of Tiffany’s duplicity, nobody would blame you.”

Emily shifted in her seat. She didn’t want to admit defeat.

“Or, two, you start organizing fund-raising campaigns like crazy. It’ll be hard, but at least you can salvage a few of the smaller programs.”

“Yes, you’re right. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. I’ll need some help, though.”

“You can count on me.” Nancy sipped her iced tea. Blotting her lips with her napkin, she said, “I bet there’s fund-raising information on the Internet.”

“I’ll do some surfing tonight. I’d like to ask one of the previous presidents for some ideas, if I can do it without spilling the beans about Tiffany. Remember, not a word to anyone.”

“Cross my heart. You mentioned Patrick Stevens was at your house?”

“Just to copy the disk.”

“Sure. The disk.”

“It’s the truth.” Emily’s cheeks warmed. “Why is everyone reading more into this than there really is?”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” Nancy leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Are you blushing? In the three years we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen you blush.”

“You’re imagining things. Patrick can’t stand me. And I’m not too thrilled about him, either.” Emily felt a twinge of doubt. “But he did say I’m irreverent and voluptuous.”

Nancy grinned. “Aha! I was right. And that’s the perfect description—irreverent and voluptuous.”

“Have you forgotten the whole thing with Jason? Even if he asked me out, do you think I’d really be interested in a man who was so cold to my son?”

“No, I guess not.” She reached across the table to pat Emily’s hand. “Sorry, Em, I just want you to find someone special like Beau.”

“They broke the mold with that Texan.”

“Yes, they certainly did. But we can find you someone just as good in his own way.”

Emily raised her hand, palm outward. “No more fix-ups. I love you like a sister, but no more blind dates.”

“Too bad it didn’t work out with Luke Andrews. He’s so nice and steady, owns his own business.”

“He’s a very nice man. But boring with a capital B. I thought if I had to hear about hardware or plumbing supplies one more minute, I was gonna scream.”

“And I guess Patrick Stevens falls into the boring category, too. Those scientific types usually are. I had a chemistry professor once who talked with this nasal monotone. Put me to sleep every time.”

Emily thought about it for a minute. “Patrick is sanctimonious, bordering on pompous, but he has moments of almost being a real person.”

“Real is good. And he is attractive in an intense way.”

“Why are we even having this discussion?” Emily knew she needed to nip this in the bud or her friend would be in all-out matchmaking mode. “I’ve decided dating isn’t for me. My children are my focus.”

“Aw, Em, I hate to see you give up on having that happily-ever-after. If it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.”

Emily suppressed a twinge of envy. “I’ve never seen a couple that fits together like you and Beau. It’s like you two were made for each other.”

“But I didn’t always think that way, remember? As I recall, a very good friend encouraged me to give him a chance.”

“Beau’s a good man. He just took a few wrong turns on his way to finding you.”

“Maybe Patrick’s taken a few wrong turns, too. Maybe he regrets the whole episode with Jason as much as you do.”

“He hasn’t said anything. He even saw Jason the other night. Although it probably looked to him as if my kids were raised by wolves.” Rolling her eyes, she described their arrival.

Nancy laughed till she had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Em, but that’s the beauty of your home. It’s never boring and there’s always lots of love and laughter.”

Emily grumbled. “Just once, I’d like people to think of me like they thought of Tiffany Bigelow. How together and smart I am.”

“You are together and smart.”

“Till I stick my foot in my mouth. Like with that edible panty distributor who always hounded me for a date. He asked what he could do to increase our order, and I suggested they develop an edible panty that didn’t taste like the fruit chewy snacks I put in my kids’ lunches. I don’t care how much men like the things, women aren’t going to feel sexy if they associate the aroma with sack lunches.”

Nancy sputtered and set down her soda. “You had a valid point.”

“Probably, but the guy never asked me to dinner again. Why couldn’t I just come up with something cute and classy?”

“You actually did the man a favor. You gave him solid feedback on how crummy his product was. Unless, of course, he’s so wrapped up in his work, so to speak, he identified his product with his, um, equipment.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, great, now I’ve probably left the man impotent for life, when all I was trying to do was help.”

Nancy leaned back in her chair and laughed. “See, Em, you make me laugh. We just need to find a man who understands your sense of humor and isn’t intimidated.”

“Like such a man exists.”

“How about Parents Flying Solo? Any new guys there?”

“No, though I have to admit, I haven’t made many meetings lately. I’ve been too busy. Besides, it’s not the same now that you and Beau aren’t there anymore. Did you hear who was elected president?”

Nancy shook her head.

Emily updated her on the latest happenings at the parenting support group. The next half hour flew by as they moved on to other topics, chatting about their children and Nancy’s real estate business.

Emily was still smiling when she returned to work.

Her smile faded when she saw two police officers in the waiting area.

Olivia immediately came out of her office as if she’d been watching for Emily’s arrival. Good thing she hadn’t taken a long lunch.

“Emily, these officers are here to see you.” Olivia frowned, her eyes warm with concern. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Emily’s stomach tensed with dread.

The older officer introduced them and got straight to the point. “A report has been filed about certain irregularities in the Elmwood Elementary School PTO account. I spoke with Brad Bigelow this morning. He indicates you went by his house last night and asked for a computer file?”

“Um, yes. I’ve taken over as PTO president and I hoped the, um, disk might clarify some questions.”

“Principal Ross filed a report this morning about the missing funds. Kind of coincidental that you spoke with her yesterday and retrieved the disk last night. Interfering with an investigation is serious business, ma’am.”

“But there wasn’t an investigation yet.”

He nodded. “Technically, you’re right. But you were aware there would be. There could be a question of whether you tampered with the disk.”

“I did not tamper with it.” But her conscience twinged. Should she tell them she’d made copies of the disk? No. Tampering meant changing or destroying—copying hadn’t changed the original one bit. “I was hoping there might be information that would clear all this up and the police wouldn’t have to be involved.”

The officer held her gaze. “How closely did you work with Mrs. Bigelow?”

Emily forced herself not to blink, not to glance away. “I might have said hello to her at a PTO meeting, but for the most part, she didn’t think I was quite up to her standards.”

The officer’s eyes twinkled for a moment and he almost cracked a smile. “Yes, I understand she could be very, um, particular.”

Emily glanced at his badge. Officer G. Kirk. Jason played basketball with a Kirk. That must be his son. And she recalled hearing that his wife had had words with Tiffany over a school slogan contest or something. Nodody’s ideas had ever been as good as Tiffany’s.

“The word I had in mind started with a B, but I guess particular will work,” Emily commented dryly.

Officer Kirk coughed. “Do you have the disk with you?”

“Yes. In my purse.” She rummaged through her large bag and produced the disk. “Do you need some sort of affidavit that I haven’t changed anything on it?”

“If you’d handwrite a quick note, that would be helpful. We might need something more formal later.”

“Sure.” She pulled out a yellow note pad and quickly wrote the note. Tearing off the sheet, she handed it to him. “I’m sorry, officer, I didn’t intend to interfere with your investigation.”

“It looks like there was no harm done.” He sealed the disk and her note in separate bags. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emily breathed a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. Only then did she realize her knees were shaking. She’d put herself and her children at risk listening to Patrick Stevens.

It was hard to concentrate the next few hours, but somehow she managed. Finally, Olivia left for a meeting.

Picking up the phone, Emily dialed the number for Elmwood Elementary. She knew it by heart after having kids enrolled there so long. She punched in Patrick’s room number and was surprised when he picked up.

“Don’t you have classes to teach?” she demanded.

“My students are in Art. And this is?”

“Emily Patterson. The woman who went out on a limb for you. The same woman police interviewed at her place of employment because she did a favor for you.”

“You’re kidding. What did they want?”

“And you’re supposed to be a genius. The disk, Einstein.”

“Actually, I’m only highly intelligent. My IQ is a few points shy of genius level.”

“Quit playing games, Stevens. They asked me if I tampered with the disk.”

“You didn’t. I imagine you gave up the disk voluntarily. No harm, no foul.”

“Easy for you to say. I don’t know about you, but I need my job. If I’m unemployed, my kids are homeless with nothing to eat. It’s a little more severe than just missing a Lexus payment.”

“You’re right, Emily.” His voice lowered. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’m sorry.”

His apology surprised her. Neither of her ex-husbands had ever admitted being wrong. Even Larry, when she’d caught him riding a two-bit cocktail waitress at the Lazy Eight Motel.

Of course, Larry had explained how it had all been Emily’s fault because she’d gained weight after Ryan’s birth. After all, he could hardly be held accountable when his wife was a fat cow, too tired to make love with her husband.

Though Emily had promptly kicked his sorry butt out of the house, a tiny part of her wondered if he’d been right. She’d even gone so far as to suggest marriage counseling. Thank goodness he’d refused, or she might still be trying to fix a hopeless relationship.

“Emily, are you there?”

“Yes, um, the other line’s ringing,” she lied. “I’ve got to go. Just leave me out of any future schemes, okay, Einstein?”

PATRICK JUGGLED pizza boxes and a plastic sack of two-liter bottles of soda. Somehow he managed to press the doorbell at Emily’s house with his elbow.

His gut told him this was a lame idea. But his conscience told him he’d gotten Emily in a lot of trouble and pizza was the least he could do.

Waiting expectantly, he hunkered down in his jacket. Clear skies, a trace of snow on the ground, it was going to be a cold night.

Finally, the door opened a crack.

Patrick bit back a groan. It figured. “Jason, hi, is your mother home?”

“She’s in the shower.”

The boy’s answer left Patrick nonplussed. He hadn’t thought she would have rushed in the door from work and jumped into the shower. “Oh. I, um, brought pizza.”

“Yeah, I can see.” The door widened a bit and Jason crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “She doesn’t want your pizza.” He looked Patrick up and down, his smirk leaving no doubt it was more than food he referred to.

Patrick might have been amused if he hadn’t had a history with the kid. As it was, he reminded himself he was the level-headed adult and should respond as such. “Can you let her know I’m here?”

“Like I said, she’s in the shower.”

“You can’t call through the bathroom door?”

“Nope. She sings in the shower. Real loud. And off-key.”

The visual made Patrick smile. He decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. “Okay, how about if I come in and wait?”

“No way. One of Mom’s rules. No guests while she’s in the shower.”

Recalling Jason’s interrupted wrestling match with his girlfriend the other night, Patrick realized the rule was probably prudent.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here, then.”

“She takes a really long shower.” Jason nodded toward the boxes Patrick held. “And hates pizza.”

“Oh.” Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. He was tempted to turn and leave. But remembering how much trouble he’d caused for Emily, he knew he had to try. “I’ll just wait out here on the steps, then.”

Jason shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The door slammed in Patrick’s face.

Patrick surveyed the front porch. It was tidy, but bare. No comfy glider where he could park his rear. So he sat on the front step, the cold seeping through his Dockers almost immediately.

Ten minutes later, he hoped maybe Jason had been exaggerating.

Fifteen minutes later, he realized the pizza was stone-cold and he’d lost all sensation in his nose. His stomach rumbled. He figured the pizza couldn’t possibly get any colder and placed the boxes on the steps. He stood, rubbing his arms to warm them.

Twenty-five minutes later, Patrick rang the bell again.

“What?” Jason’s tone was belligerent when he opened the door.

“Surely, your mother is out of the shower now?”

“Nope. Told you she took a long shower. Why don’t you just leave.”

Why indeed? Because it had become a contest of wills. He would see Emily tonight if it killed him. And, if the temperature dropped any more rapidly, that was a very real possibility.

“I c-can wait.” He clamped his mouth shut to stop his teeth from chattering.

“Yeah, sure you can.” As the door swung shut, Patrick could have sworn he heard Jason call him a loser.

His pulse pounded. He had the urge to yank the door off the hinges and give the kid a piece of his mind. But he was here on a peacekeeping mission and yelling at Jason would hardly break the ice with Emily. He merely needed to harness his anger. Shrugging, he figured anger was probably a good thing—it’d keep his blood pumping and keep him from freezing to death.

He jogged in place, slapping his arms to increase circulation, for what seemed like hours. Patrick was about to concede defeat when headlights sliced through the night and Emily’s van pulled into the driveway.

“That little SOB,” Patrick swore through clenched teeth.