Four Little Problems

“I’m looking forward to the opportunity of chatting with her regarding Tiffany’s record-keeping procedures.” Emily willed him to understand her double-speak. “She might know where we could find additional, um, materials.”

“Materials. Yes, well that does sound, um, promising.”

“And even if she doesn’t have any information, I understand she is an absolute pro at fund-raising. Something you might consider in light of recent developments. I know I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.”

Patrick nodded. “Absolutely. In that case, I accept your invitation. What time’s the dance start?”

“Eight o’clock. I’ll pick you up at seven-fifteen. That way I’ll have time to drop off the little kids at my friend Nancy’s house, then swing by and pick up Cassie.”

Jason groaned. “We were gonna double-date with Vince and his girlfriend.”

“Now, see, didn’t this turn out nice?” Emily smiled brightly. “You can double-date with your dear old mom and Mr. Stevens. What could be better than that?”

What indeed?

PATRICK DISCONNECTED from the Internet. Emily would be there shortly and he hadn’t found any solutions in his investment portfolio. He’d considered funding the trip himself, anonymously, of course. It would be worth every penny to watch Ari and Kat experience a whole new world.

But a quick glance at his portfolio had quashed that idea. He had a substantial sum set aside, but it would take more than a substantial sum to care for Roger once his mom and dad were gone. They made do with a couple of part-time home health aides and were great caring for his brother. Unfortunately, it was a full-time job for both of his parents, instead of the easy retirement they deserved. He worried sometimes they were working themselves to an early grave, but both claimed to enjoy having Roger living in their home.

Patrick ran a hand through his hair. Giving up on the Florida trip wasn’t an option, either, at least in his mind. Maybe they’d luck out and Tiffany’s friend would tell them where Tiffany had secreted the PTO money.

The doorbell rang. Glancing at his watch, he nodded. Emily was right on time.

When he opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to see Jason hanging back, expression sullen, holding the hand of a pretty teen. The infamous Cassie. But it was Emily who nearly took his breath away. She wore a suede skirt, boots and had her soft brown hair pulled back from her face. All suitable chaperone attire. But she also wore an itty-bitty, low-cut T-shirt that accentuated every lovely inch of her chest. What looked like a hand-crocheted vest went over the top to give the impression of modesty. But all it did was encourage him to visualize what she looked like sans T-shirt, with only the crocheted vest playing peekaboo with her breasts.

He cleared his throat. “Come in. I have to feed Newt before I go.”

“Newt?”

“My salamander. Let me dump a few crickets in his tank.”

“Live crickets?”

“Yes.”

Emily made a face. She wandered around his living room, studying his awards, stopping at the lone family photo. “Your mom and dad?”

His stomach clenched. “Yes.”

“You’re an only child?” It was an assumption many people made. Maybe because Patrick was serious and introverted. It hadn’t always been that way though.

“No. My brother isn’t in the picture.” In so many ways.

“Are you the oldest?”

“Yes.” Chronologically and mentally. Because there was no way Roger would ever be able to approach Patrick’s near-genius. But Patrick thought he would give his very life if Roger had the opportunity to show him up. Sibling rivalry had no place in the dynamics of their relationship. At least not in the past twenty-five years.

“Are you two close?”

“Yes. Roger’s my best buddy.” At least that’s what he told his brother every time he visited. It never failed to elicit a smile, sometimes marred by a spasm, other times accompanied by a trickle of saliva. But Roger’s smile touched a place in Patrick’s heart no other could reach. Not that many had tried. Most people were content to accept Patrick’s reserve at face value.

But Emily wasn’t most people. She studied his face. “I bet he looked up to you as a child.”

Patrick smiled, remembering the kid brother he couldn’t seem to shake. “Yes, he followed me everywhere.”

He turned at Cassie’s sharply indrawn breath. “Is that real?” the girl asked, pointing to Arnold.

“Yes. That’s Ahhnold.” He approximated an Austrian accent. “And this guy over here is Hairy S. Truman.”

“All Republicans,” Emily observed dryly. “A political statement?”

“No, just my warped sense of humor. It started with Hairy, for obvious reasons. Newt, as a play on words, because newts are a part of the salamander family.”

“That’s really tight, Mr. Stevens,” Jason said.

Cassie withdrew her hand from Jason’s and stepped back. “I think it’s gross. What does the snake eat?”

Patrick’s first instinct was to tell her the whole gory truth and gross her out. Live rats. Arnold squeezes them to death before swallowing them whole.

But tricks never led to anything good. He decided to provide Jason with a mature role model. “Rodents.”

Patrick was proud of his self-restraint when Emily repressed a shudder.

Fortunately, Cassie didn’t seem to realize the term rodents wasn’t the name brand of a processed pet food that came from a sealed bag. She said, “Whatever.”

“I’m ready.” He made sure all the enclosures were secure, leaving on the heat lamps. “Let’s go.”

Patrick was tempted to call shotgun as they approached the van, so like a family expedition. But he realized Jason wanted nothing more than to sit in the backseat with his girlfriend, sneaking a kiss when he thought Emily wasn’t looking in the rearview mirror.

The kids had made it pretty clear they didn’t appreciate being chaperoned. Yes, in bringing Patrick to the dance, Emily had elevated age-appropriate punishment to an art form. He knew from experience peer pressure and the threat of embarrassment worked wonders with the teen set. Patrick had no doubt he would be immediately invited in to the Patterson household if he visited again, day or night, whether Emily were at home or three states away. She’d certainly made her point.

Emily pressed the lock release on her key tag. “Are you sure you’re okay with me driving?”

“Positive.”

The drive to the high school went quickly. Jason and Cassie exited the van before Emily shut off the engine.

She rolled down her window. “See you inside,” Emily called out to them in an overly loud voice, enunciating clearly.

They pretended not to hear her.

Patrick went around to the driver’s side, but he was too late to hold the door for her. For some reason, that rankled. Though Emily could obviously take care of herself, he felt compelled to do things for her. He had a pretty good idea pampering was toward the bottom of her list.

“You’re an evil woman, Emily Patterson.” He couldn’t quite keep the admiration from his voice.

She grinned, lowering her voice to a Mae West growl. “When I’m good, I’m very good. But when I’m bad, I’m even better.”

His imagination was off and running with visions of her wearing the crocheted vest and very little else. His groin responded. “I’m sure you are.”