Mommy Loves the Principal

“No.” She held up her hands in a stop motion. “No need. I already aced it.”

“Why don’t we talk over dinner tonight?” he said.

“So, I can butter you up?”

“Well, I do like butter.”

A parent in the back row turned around and shushed them with a glare. Ron noted a few teachers were watching them from the sidelines. A number of moms in the front row gave Kylee a death glare, which apparently Kylee took notice of.

“Wow,” she said. “You weren’t kidding about the hot commodity bit. I think I’m gonna go over and sit with the grandmas to, you know, get out of the line of fire.”

“See you tonight?” Ron called out to her as she approached an empty seat in the last row.

But when she went to sit down, the mom sitting there suddenly put her purse in the seat. Kylee looked back up at Ron and glared at him, as though it were his fault she no longer had a seat.

It was good-natured joking. And it was. Just joking. Just dinner. Nothing against the rules there.

Chapter Nine

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Kylee had begun her descent down the stairs to check on dinner. Molly was in the middle of the staircase, likely headed to her room. The two girls met in the middle.

Molly looked up at her mother. Her round face was contorted in what could only be described as aghast. Kylee looked down at herself in search of what her daughter had found so offensive.

After coming home from a long day of lesson building and problem creating, Kylee had done what she always did. She’d kicked off her heels, slipped out of her confining dress skirts or slacks, unbuttoned her starched blouses, discarded her binding bras, and slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a graphic t-shirt.

“He’ll be here any minute,” said Molly. “You should change. And shower. And for goodness sake put on some makeup. Ricky Wright, Jr.’s mom always has a ton on first thing in the morning when she drops him off.”

“What?”

Kylee’s head was spinning. Just what was her daughter talking about? Ricky Wright? The only Ricky Wright she knew was the old high school quarterback. She’d heard the rising star had flamed out in college. But she’d also heard that Ricky and Iman Hilson, St. Jude’s real live mean girl, had had a kid. A boy, if she remembered right. But what did Ricky and Iman’s kid have to do with Kylee needing a shower and some makeup?

Kylee leaned against the banister and crossed her arms over her chest. “Molly, what’s going on?”

Molly rubbed at a non-existent mark on the wall. “I just think you should look your best tonight when Principal Kidd comes over. You always make me get cleaned and presentable before I go to school every morning. Well, school is coming to our house so you should…” Molly wrinkled her nose and waved her hand at her mom in

a shooing motion. “You should really go clean yourself up a bit.”

Kylee smoothed a hand over her t-shirt. She had washed her face, reapplied deodorant, and put her bra back on. She was perfectly presentable to have a relaxing evening of catching up with her old friend. “It’s just Ron, Principal Kidd. He doesn’t care what I’m wearing. He’s been here many times before. He practically lived here before you were born.”

“Great. Then he’ll feel right at home.”

There was that sparkle in her daughter’s eye again. Jason had had that same sparkle early in their relationship when he’d been sweeping her off her feet. He barely looked at her the last few years of their marriage. And when he did, his eyes were dull with wariness.

Molly’s sparkle told Kylee the little girl was up to something. But what? Kylee had caught her daughter straightening up the living room earlier. It was like pulling teeth to get Molly to do chores, and she’d done a chore she hadn’t been asked to do.

Yes, there was definitely something going on. Maybe she’d gotten into trouble again and suspected Ron would give Kylee the full report tonight. Yes, that had to be it. Before Kylee could start her interrogation, the smoke alarm beat her to it.

Kylee took a deep inhale. The acrid smell of burning food charged into her nostrils. The alarm screamed again demanding attention. Another sound joined the chorus. It was the doorbell.

Kylee looked to Molly. Molly’s aghast look was even more pronounced on her round face. In her daughter’s eyes, Kylee saw her own mortification.

In unison, they looked at the front door. Then towards the kitchen. Then back to each other.

“You get the door,” said Kylee. “I’ll get the food.”

Kylee dashed off to the kitchen. When she entered, it was too late. The lives of the vegetables were already lost. The pan too, as the greens were now black and putrified in their so-called stainless steel coffin.