Page 24 of Class Act

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but if you plan on being a mom someday, you’ll have to do it, too.”

I shook my head, feeling green at the thought. “My husband will take care of those kinds of things.”

“Uh-huh.” Lizzie laughed. “Last time Jackson and his daughter Sally were in town, Sally got carsick driving up the canyon to Tony Grove. Guess who helped mop it up?”

I made a face. “No more, please. I should never have asked.”

“Pets aren’t any better,” Meredith stated. “My cat coughed up something atrocious the other day, like straight out of a horror film, and I had to dispose of it and sanitize the house. I thought about calling in an exorcist.”

“I don’t know how you stand that cat,” I said. It was no secret that I wasn’t a pet person. Hair and messes everywhere did not appeal to me. “Isn’t she like eighty years old now?”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “She’s ten. She probably has another ten good years in her considering she’s very spry and incredibly intelligent.”

“She’s coughing up her insides, one hairy ball at a time,” Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t seem intelligent.”

“Betty will do what Betty will do,” Meredith stated. “It’s best to stay out of her way and let her live her life.”

“Like pet, like owner,” Ruby said under her breath, and we snickered at the face Meredith made.

“The things people do for their pets,” I teased.

“The things we do for our students,” Lizzie sighed.

“The things we do for their parents,” Meredith added.

“Parents are harder than kids, every day of the week,” Aryn agreed.

“Try calling one and telling them their kid is sick,” Ruby inserted. “No parent likes getting a call from me. Half of them freak out and think their child caught leprosy and the other half can’t be bothered and say to keep them in my office until the school day is over.”

“Man, right now, I am the perfect parent,” Lizzie said in such a nonchalant way that it took us a second to register her teasing.

“Me, too,” I laughed when I realized what she’d meant.

“My kids are totally perfect,” Aryn added. “No one ever complains about them.”

“I’m nailing this parenting gig,” Meredith agreed. “Betty the cat is well adjusted and independent.”

“She’s not from planet earth,” Lizzie replied.

“Neither are half the people in this building,” Meredith quipped.

With that we broke up, chatting lightly as we made our way back to work.

*****

I entered the auditorium of the local high school holding a bouquet of bright pink dahlias as a shield against my chest. It was warm and noisy with family members and friends greeting each other while others posed on the stage for pictures. The houselights were on, but it still felt dim as I looked carefully to see if I could spot the Whittaker family, and then sit on the opposite side of the room. Over the past few days, I’d done a fabulous job of cutting Ford out of my thoughts. I was feeling more in control and had even confided in Aryn that I was open to being set up on dates. She’d clapped her hands and sworn that she wouldn’t tell the others just yet, but she was getting to work immediately on my first date.

For tonight, the plan was to greet Hillary when the recital was over, give her the flowers, and then hightail it out of there without any mental drooling over her dad. I figured with a few more of these low-key interactions, I’d be able to greet Ford around town when we were in the same places and my fantasies would be a distant memory. If I could manage it, it would be practically like they’d never happened. Easy peasy. After tonight, I’d slip away and go back to my role as her former teacher. Ford and I would be friendly associates and nothing more.

My heart lurched at the thought of giving Ford up, but I sternly practiced the mental mantra I’d created for such a moment.

I heard the familiar squeal before I saw the face behind it. I turned in time to have a fluffy teal ball of flying hair and bows slam into my side at the same time that two tiny arms wrapped around my waist. It caused me to take a step back, but I was able to catch myself with a laugh.

“You’re here,” Hillary cried.

I patted her back with my free hand, the motion causing my purse to fall off my shoulder and swing from my wrist. “I’m here,” I said warmly. I certainly couldn’t complain about being greeted this way. It felt nice.

She pulled away and grabbed my hand. “I had Daddy save you a seat.”

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