Page 6 of Savage in the Sweets
He takes a seat up at the front, and Principal Bailey begins going through the items on the agenda.
These affairs are always boring, but it’s good that I’m here because I’ve scored more than one fundraiser by being present at these functions.
I also like keeping abreast of issues happening around the community, so I can stay involved.
Finally, when I think the meeting can’t possibly drag on any longer than it has, Irene says, “There’s been a lot of discussion over the past year regarding our playground equipment. In regards to this matter, I’d like to hand over the podium to someone new to Wilson’s Grove, Mr. Colin Davers.”
Mr. Tracksuit gets up from his seat and takes a position front and center.
Well, this should be interesting.
“Hello, fellow parents. My name is Colin Davers, and my son Michael is in second grade here. I moved to the area just last month, and I have to say, your community is warm, inviting, and so full of life.”
He sounds nice enough, not like the kind of guy that would purposefully be rude to someone. He probably just had something in his eye.
Mr. Tracksuit continues with, “As you may already be aware that I’m opening a gym in the commercial complex right across the street named: Mind and Might. I founded it seven years ago, when I decided that being an emergency medical technician wasn’t aligned with being a single parent. I moved here to open a second location. It serves both adults and children and is designed to allow kids to exercise both their bodies and their brains, and I’ll offer a wide range of activities and camps to promote their growth.”
Well, well, well—if it isn’t my new neighbor. That explains the muscles.
“I am also going to assist with updating the current playground equipment to make sure that our children can play safely, without fear of injury.”
A murmur of approval carries across the crowd, and I have to admit, even I am impressed. And not just by his good looks, which have me salivating. He seems genuinely kind.
And I couldn’t help but notice he said ‘single parent.’
He continues with, “But these steps are small, and they have to be accompanied by community action. Our children need to learn how to make good decisions. That starts at home and should be complemented by school policy.”
“Hear! Hear!” Stacy calls out.
I roll my eyes, knowing how she cares more about drinking than caring for her son.
“Without sounding like a pretentious know-it-all, I’d like to give the community some advice. I have a suggestion for you, if I may be so bold. The first step in our journey together. A lesson in making good choices for our health…”
I sure wouldn’t mind Mr. Tracksuit teaching me a lesson…
He points his finger toward the back of the room, at my table. “…and it’s that sugar-ladened junk food has to place on school grounds, in our fundraisers, or at our board meetings.”
Wait…what?!?
All eyes turn in my direction, but the room remains silent.
Except for him.
“Sugar is one of the most addictive substances known to mankind. The toll it takes on our health, our teeth, and our life expectancies is too great to allow it into our great school system. By consorting with the likes of that confectionary temptress in the back, we’re basically handing our children a lifetime of preventable health issues.”
Did he just call me a confectionary temptress?
This has to be some kind of a joke.
People are looking at me with wrinkled foreheads, mouths slightly ajar. I’ve always taken great pride in knowing that I help the community, and that because of me, the school can supply instruments to the less fortunate, kids can go on field trips, and if there’s ever an emergency, selling my goods assists in the purchase of relief efforts for ailing families.
But this man, Mr. Fancy Pants Tracksuit, is making me sound like a monster.
Irene approaches the podium and says, “Why, thank you, Mr. Davers. We’ll certainly take your thoughts into consideration.”
Thank you, Irene! Your next fix is on the house!
My heart thuds in my chest, waiting for what happens next.
