“We have a lot of mothers volunteering this year,” Mabel added, adjusting her sweater. “It makes such a difference when the kids see their parents in the cafeteria.”
“I plan to be there,” I said.
“Excellent,” Mabel said, looking over my shoulder at the next car in line. “I know Sarah is already coordinating the decorations.”
She turned to guide a boy with loose shoelaces inside, leaving me on the damp step.
I walked back to my car, the flyer folded small in my palm, and sat behind the wheel for a moment before starting the engine.
The steady, rhythmic hum of the commercial printer in the corner of my office usually kept me focused, but today the noise only made my temples throb.
My desk was covered in layout proofs for the county library newsletter, but the green light on my desk phone began to flash.
I picked up the receiver on the third ring.
“Jen,” Darren said, his voice flat and hurried. “Confirming Friday pickup at four.”
“Four is fine,” I said, leaning back in my mesh chair. “I have her bag packed.”
