Page 12 of A Class of Her Own

Brooks’s shoulders moved up and down as he breathed in and out slowly. “Science—if needed—comes later in the process. For now we’re simply chatting about if this is an issue we need to investigate more.”

I threw my hands up. “Come on. I’ve been a schoolteacher for twelve years now, and one thing I can tell you is that kids don’t remember which towel they brought to the pool. To try to assign malicious intent to towel sharing is beyond ridiculous.”

“What about the adults who do it?” Vicki cried.

I turned partially to meet her head on. “Most married couples share far more than an occasional towel. Are you proposing to go into their homes and make sure they stop?”

There was an audible gasp followed by whispers and some laughter. I held back a smirk as Vicki’s face turned red.

“That’s not the same thing at all,” she whined.

I shifted my shoulders, the very picture of unbothered, and turned back to the table. “Let’s spend less time on these types of things and more time on important matters. Did you know that one in four children in our community are dealing with insufficient food? I’m sure some of our neighbors are counted in that number. Instead of towel police, let’s use extra funds to provide lunch on the weekends, or over school breaks, to the children in our neighborhood who could use the support.”

Hazel nodded at me, pleased and grandmotherly. Leland’s mouth tugged down into what I hoped was a thinking expression. Shayla was putting on lip gloss and stealing glances at Brooks, who clasped his hands in front of him and looked at me for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he was touched by my suggestion or plotting ways to drive me out with a pitchfork. His dark eyes were unreadable, and his mouth was a flat line.

“If they can afford to live here, they can afford food,” Vicki harrumphed before sitting down. “We aren’t here to vote on food. We’re here to vote on towels,” she added.

I shook my head at Brooks, but he only nodded. “She’s right. If you’d like to put in a motion to discuss hunger needs in our area, we can discuss that next month.”

“I should stop coming to these things,” I muttered and sat down with a thud. These meetings were simply more proof that I was always fighting a losing battle.

“That might not be a bad idea,” I heard someone behind me whisper to their seatmate.

I managed to keep my head high and my shoulders firm, but the statement sneaked into that soft place I kept well hidden . . . the spot that reminded me I was too much for most people.

“Now, Hazel had a matter to discuss,” Brooks said, moving on.

Hazel preened, fluffing up her blue hair and smiling at what felt like every person in the room. “As the enforcer of bylaws, I’d like to discuss the matter of garbage and recycling cans being kept out of view from the street,” she said. “It’s come to the attention of the board that the Holt residence has been keeping their bins next to their garage door where they are clearly visible.”

I rolled my eyes. It had come to her attention because she regularly trolled the neighborhood in her car, driving idle speed and peeping at everyone’s homes to find infractions of the law while licking the tip of her pen and keeping her ticket book on her lap.

“This comes with a $600 fine,” Hazel stated.

I wasn’t the only person who gasped. “That’s ridiculous and excessive,” I blurted out.

My gosh, think about how many meals that could provide, or how many warm coats it could buy.

“Hear, hear,” a few others called.

Hazel held up a wrinkled hand. “Maybe, but it’s clearly in the contract that all of you signed as homeowners. The Holts have been given warnings.” She flipped through her ticket book and did some quick counting. “Three warnings with no change. At this point I’ll be writing an actual ticket, and they will be fined.” She glanced around the room again, this time not smiling at everyone. “Let this be a firm reminder that our bylaws are to be followed.”

“What will you do with that money?” I asked. “It could buy a lot of lunches for kids.” Even knowing better, I couldn’t help the hopeful tone in my voice.

“Or enough towels to prevent sharing,” Vicki piped up.

I groaned. Hope squashed once more as Leland pointed at Vicki with his knife and nodded and Shayla blew a bubble. How old was she, anyway? Didn’t bubble blowing stop in adulthood? Especially at meetings?

Brooks held up a hand. “We’ll discuss what to do with it once the fine is received by Shayla.”

He was actually going to let that fine go through? I balled my hands into fists in order to avoid causing another scene.

Shayla immediately brightened up at the use of her name and offered Brooks a smile that made my insides churn. It was gross. I shouldn’t have cared that she flirted with him, but something about it made my stomach heave. Something about all of this made my stomach heave, and I withdrew inside myself, not really listening as the meeting wrapped up.

Snow was falling again when I left the clubhouse to start walking home. I’d tuned back in during the vote on towel sharing, and I was grateful it didn’t pass. Good grief, these people were legitimately bonkers to think up these things—and then to assume they mattered. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that absurd fine for cans being seen from the road, or the fact that there wasn’t a clear answer about how those funds would be spent after they were collected. I wanted wisdom and transparency, but all I was getting were fools blowing bubbles.

I tugged my coat tighter around me, not for the first time wondering how nice it must be to carry a little insulation as part of your body makeup. I’d been a chubby toddler, with rolls upon rolls, and a sweet, rounded tummy. In all my baby pictures, my eyes were nearly covered by cherubic cheeks when I smiled. I’d often wondered where all that padding had gone in later years. After my mom had passed, it was like my body simply didn’t produce anything squishy anymore.

“For the record,” Brooks’s voice startled me out of my reflective moment, “and I’ve deeply questioned saying this to you—I thought your idea about hungry kids was the best thing I’ve heard in that room in months.”