Class Mom

23

You’d think with all my newfound knowledge I would have been out there like a bumblebee pollinating all of William Taft Elementary with news of Miss Ward, Kim Fancy, and the phantom Sasha Lewicki. But I didn’t. I sat on all of it, which if you ask me shows Herculean restraint. Ron thinks I’m just scared of the fallout, and maybe I am. This isn’t just “I saw her bingeing on ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s” gossip. This is information that has the potential to hurt people and change lives. I keep thinking about Nancy Fancy and how she will have to deal with everything if this comes out. And poor little Nadine Lewicki! Oh, wait, she’s not real.

I know I should at least let Asami know she was right all along and put her out of her misery, but I don’t know what she’ll do with the information, so I simply go on with my life.

The mud run at Ron’s store was a huge success. It was even on the front page of the Kansas City Star, albeit below the fold. The picture they used was of Garth just getting out of the mud. You can actually see my elbow in the shot! The lieutenant governor called Ron personally to thank him. They want him to start thinking about next year and maybe doing a cross-promotion with one of the TV stations.

It’s mid-May, so Vivs and Laura are done with school for the year, but both have opted to stay on campus and work rather than come home. I can’t say I’m surprised. Love is definitely in the air in Manhattan, Kansas. They are both coming home for Max’s last day of school, which to my shock and awe is only two weeks away. Normally, the kids would be in classes until the third week of June, but apparently the school board has scheduled good old William Taft for a facelift, so they’re shelving those oh-so-critical last two weeks when the kids do nothing but play games and go on field trips.

I realize I should email Miss Ward to find out if she wants to have a year-end party. The last day of school isn’t a Hallmark holiday, is it?

I get up from folding laundry and head to the kitchen-counter office to send her an email. When I log on I notice that Shirleen Cobb, Nina, and Miss Ward have all emailed me. Aren’t I the popular one today! Just for shits and giggles, I read Shirleen’s first.



* * *



To: JDixon

From: SCobb

Date: 5/23

Subject: Play date

Jen,

Apparently Graydon would like to have a play date with Max. I’d like to have it at my house so I can monitor what Graydon eats. How about this Saturday?

Shirleen



* * *



Yes, Graydon and Max are friends again. The whole “You’re a liar” incident is long forgotten … by some. I’m just glad Shirleen wants to host. I already have more gum than I can chew. Worrying about Graydon’s list of dos and don’ts just might push me over the edge. I email her back telling her it’s fine and move on.



* * *



To: JDixon

From: NGrandish

Date: 5/23

Subject: Hey

Breaking news from the principal’s office! Call me.

Xo



* * *



Just then my phone buzzes and I see that Nina has texted me the same thing. I think I know what it is. She has been making noise about stepping down as PTA president, but I always assumed she was all hat and no horse. Wow, I guess she finally did it. I’ll call her later.



* * *



To: JDixon

From: PWard

Date: 5/24

Subject: Today

Hi, Jenny,

I know we’re coming up to the long weekend, but could you meet me in the classroom after school today at 3?

Thanks,

Peggy



* * *



Finally! The universe has rewarded my patience and cowardliness. Miss Ward wants a meeting. I’ll seriously die if Kim Fancy is there, too.

I type back a quick affirmative reply to Miss Ward, then text Peetsa and ask if she can take Max home with her after school.

I just have time to run up and take a mini shower (no hair washing), put on a fresh mom uniform, and head to Starbucks before my meeting. Peetsa has responded that she will take Max with her and Zach while they go grocery shopping for their Memorial Day barbecue, which we’re invited to. I really owe her one. Taking two six-year-olds grocery shopping is only slightly easier than herding cats.

“You look good, Mama,” I say to her at pickup. It’s a sunny spring day and Peetsa has busted out a short pleated skirt and a light blouse for the occasion. She looks so pretty.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here.” She squints at me.

“Miss Ward asked to meet with me.”

“About what?”

I shrug. “No idea.” I hate lying to her. Fortunately, Ravi comes up to us, and the subject turns to summer and what we’re going to do with the boys. We’re trying to formulate some kind of shared schedule when the school bell rings. The good weather has infected the kids and there is extra noise and activity as they pour out of the building.

I wave Max over and give him a hug. He smells like dirt, so I can tell they were outside a lot today.

“Hey, buddy, do you mind going with Zach T. for a while? I need to meet with Miss Ward.”

“Are you going to talk about me?” He looks worried.

“Nope. We’re going to talk about the super big end-of-the-year party we’re going to have for you guys.” Peetsa raises her eyebrows at me, and I shrug.

“Can we get a bouncy castle?” Max asks.

“And cotton candy,” Zach T. adds.

“It’s not a carnival, guys, it’s just a party. I’ll see you later.” I wave to Ali and Lulu as I walk toward the school. My phone rings just as I am walking in. It’s Nina.

“I’m sorry, I meant to call you earlier. Did you do it? Did you quit?”

“I was going to, but I’m having second thoughts. But I did overhear something that you’ll be interested in.”

“What?” I pause in the lobby because I don’t want my voice echoing down the empty hall on my way to room 147.

“Miss Ward resigned.”

“What?”

“Yup. Apparently she told Jakowski she’s leaving. I don’t know anything else.”

“I’m actually on my way to a meeting with her right now.” I whisper even though there is no one around.

“Oh, my God. Go find out what’s going on and call me right back.” Nina hangs up before I can even say good-bye.

I put my phone in my purse and hurry to the classroom, where I find Miss Ward sitting at her desk, humming a kids’ song and organizing some papers. When she sees me, she jumps up much the way she did on curriculum night, oh so many months ago.

“Jenny!” She hugs me. “Thanks for coming. Sit down. I have some news for you.” She hops up to sit on her desk, leaving me with either one of the kids’ tables or one of their chairs. I choose a table and just hope it holds me.

“What’s up?” I ask as casually as I can.

“I wanted to let you know that I have resigned.”

“Really?” I act genuinely surprised, or at least I hope I do. “Why?”

I think she’s going to confess that she got caught inventing a fake student and parent and they asked her to leave. But once again, she surprises me.

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