“The club members’ response to the day care center has been so positive, we have more children than we first anticipated,” she answered, already knowing from the negative expression on his face how Beau Hacket would be voting on the matter.
“All you’re doing is watching a handful of little kids for a couple of hours,” Beau spoke up. “I don’t see where you need more money for that. Sit them down with a crayon and a piece of paper and they’ll be happy.”
“Beau.”
There was a warning in Josh’s tone, but Kiley knew it was more a rule of order than any kind of support for her. Josh Gordon had been almost as vocal in his objections to the day care center as Beau Hacket and Paul Windsor had. Since the club started admitting female members a few years ago, the TCC had experienced quite a few growing pains as it made changes to accommodate the needs of women in its ranks, the most recent change being the addition of the day care center.
Focusing her attention on the others seated at the conference table and off the committee chairman, she decided it was time to set them straight. “I think some of you have a few misconceptions about the day care center. Yes, we do provide a safe environment for the members to leave their children while they attend meetings or events at the clubhouse, but we’re more than just a babysitting service. Some of the members depend on us for early childhood education, as well.”
“My granddaughter is one of your students and in the short time she’s been attending, we’ve all been amazed at how much she’s learned,” the woman seated beside Josh said, smiling.
“Why can’t they teach their own kids how to finger-paint at home?” Beau demanded, his disapproval evident in the tone of his voice as he glared at her.
“I’m trained in early childhood education,” Kiley explained, hoping to convince the man of the importance of day care, but knowing she probably wouldn’t. “The center’s programs are age appropriate and structured so that the children are engaged in learning activities for their level of development.” When the committee members frowned in obvious confusion, she rushed on to keep one of them from cutting her off. “For example, the toddlers learn how to interact and share with other children, as well as begin to develop friendships and basic social skills. The preschool class learns to recognize and print the letters of the alphabet, as well as their names. And in addition to teaching them how to count, my assistant and I play learning games with both groups designed to pique their interest in things like science and nature.” She shook her head. “The list is endless and I could stay here all day outlining the importance of early childhood education and the benefits to a child.”
When Kiley stopped to take a breath, the woman on the committee nodded. “My granddaughter has not only learned a lot, she’s conquered some of her shyness and has become more outgoing, as well.”
Appreciative of the woman’s support, Kiley smiled. At least she had one advocate on the committee.
Josh glanced down at the papers on the table in front of him. “You’re not asking for more space, just additional money for the center?”
“No, the size of the room isn’t a problem. We have enough room for the children we have now, as well as many more.” She could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to what she had to say and would probably like to deny her outright. But protocol called for the committee to hear her out, discuss her request, then take a vote on the issue. “All I’m asking for is additional money for the day-to-day operation of the center.”
“Since you don’t have utilities or rent to worry about, what specifically would the funds be used for?” Paul Windsor asked, giving her a charming smile. A ladies’ man if there ever was one, the older gentleman’s flirtatious smile didn’t fool Kiley one bit. He was just as opposed to the day care center as Beau Hacket.
“Some of the children are with us for the entire day, instead of a half day or just a few hours, Mr. Windsor,” she answered, relieved she wasn’t having to focus on Josh, even though she didn’t like Paul Windsor. “We need the extra money for the materials for their activities, as well as the additional lunches and snacks. We also need to hire an extra worker for the infants we occasionally have when their mothers have a tennis match or engage in some of the other activities here at the clubhouse.”
“We wouldn’t have this problem if we hadn’t let women into the club,” Beau muttered as he sat back in his chair to glare at her.