News of the scandal had leapt from house to house like a shake-roof fire, but Laurel first heard about it on Thursday, during her daily hour as a student aide, when she was filing absence slips in the anteroom off the main office. Sarah’s mother’s voice was loud and clear as she discussed the event with the school secretary.
“What do you think, Gail? I know the Redlander boy comes from bad stock. After all, his father has that horrible beer tavern, Beat Down or whatever it’s called, across the county line.” Mrs. Bridges’s voice lowered a decibel or two, as if she were trying to be discreet. “Nyquist told the school board he heard Marguerite screaming for help when he dropped by her house to pick up some papers, but Odelle Schlossnagel said that Jase and Marguerite had been at it for months, that she saw him vaulting over Ms. Shelton’s fence when she was putting out Christmas lights back in December.” Her voice ratcheted up a notch again. “Nyquist’s story is that Jase overpowered Marguerite, but my God, Gail, how could that boy have forced himself on that woman for four months straight without her uttering a word of complaint?”
Laurel risked a quick look toward the front desk and saw Ms. Fogarty raise a carefully penciled eyebrow and glance in the direction of Mr. Nyquist’s empty office. “Well, Marilyn, all I can tell you is that we’ve never had any trouble with Jason. He’s built like an adult man, though, six two in his stocking feet and still growing, while Marguerite’s only an inch or so above five feet.” She snickered through her nose. “On the other hand, she always looked very happy when she clocked in every morning.”
Jase and Ms. Shelton? Laurel didn’t believe a word of it. And apparently Ms. Fogarty and Sarah’s mother didn’t either—they seemed to be more amused than shocked.
A harsh buzz drowned out the women’s knowing laughter. Time for lunch.
Laurel’s brain whirled as she placed the rest of the absence slips on top of the filing cabinet for the next hour’s aide to finish off. She walked down the hall to the lunchroom like she was in a trance, filled her tray, handed her punch card to the monitor behind the register, then went over to the table near the window where she and her best friends always sat.
Rebecca Diaz, Saundra Schlossnagel, and Jennie Lynn Pietzsch weren’t there yet, but Sarah started talking before Laurel could even set her tray down.
“Did you hear what they’re saying about Jase?”
Laurel sat down on the bench across from her friend. “Yes, but I don’t believe it.”
Sarah’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “Well, the school board does. Last period in drama class, Amy Fassbinder—her father’s a trustee, you know—told me Mr. Nyquist called their house at seven this morning and said he’d caught Jase in the act.”
Laurel ripped open her milk carton. “I still don’t believe it.”
“Maybe Jase—” Sarah glanced across the room. “Shh, here comes Rebecca. Don’t say a word. You know how prissy she is.”
Laurel nodded, picked up her fork, and loaded it with a chunk of meatloaf.
She had no intention of talking to Rebecca or anyone else about Jase and Ms. Shelton, but she sure was thinking about them. The whole idea was ridiculous—Ms. Shelton was far too old for him. Besides, when she’d talked to Jase yesterday, before Daddy called him into his office, he hadn’t acted any different. Mr. Nyquist must have gotten it wrong—or maybe Ms. Shelton made it all up. Jenny Lynn, who had been in her class last semester, said she was a good teacher, but she spent a lot of time flirting with the football guys.
How should she act when Jase came to the house next Wednesday? What should she say to him? What could she say to him?
She stared at her fork. Meatloaf? She loathed meatloaf! She shook it off onto her plate and took a big gulp of milk straight from the carton.
Daddy would know what she should do. She’d talk to him when she got home. But how in the world do you discuss something like that with your father?
However, as usual, Daddy made it easy. As soon as she mentioned Jase’s name, he nodded, took off his glasses, and gave her his full attention. “Jase is a victim and no danger to anyone but himself,” he said in his usual dry, precise tone. “You should behave normally around him and not listen to gossip.”
Which, Laurel decided, meant Jase was innocent, just as she’d thought. However, Mama, whom she always talked with after her evening prayers, was more cautious. “Ms. Shelton has been replaced by a permanent substitute because of health problems,” she said, patting Laurel’s hand. “Perhaps it would be better to avoid Jason from now on, dear.”