Four Little Problems

“Yes, they’re in my backpack somewhere.” He shoved a piece of cookie in his mouth, wiped his hands on a napkin and rummaged through his pack.

He reminded Emily of a chipmunk. But his hazel eyes were too serious for such a mischievous creature. He might be cute, if he’d lighten up.

“Here it is.” He triumphantly produced a wire-bound pad of paper, suitable for taking notes in class.

He paged through until he found the appropriate section.

Sliding it across the table, he pointed to a row of figures.

“Those are the projected costs, minus the monies we’ve brought in through various fund-raising projects of our own.”

“Yes, I think I remember hearing about a car wash?” Emily had tried to block out any information pertaining to Patrick Stevens. Apparently, she’d failed. “And a bake sale?”

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, the kids are pretty industrious once they get their hearts set on something.”

“Yes, they are.” Emily swallowed hard, then glanced away, unable to meet his earnest gaze. His obvious affection for his students stung. Why couldn’t he have been that way with Jason? It might have made a world of difference to the boy. Instead, her son had been rejected by yet another male authority figure. She’d sometimes wondered if Jason’s pranks had been a bid for attention, a clumsy way to connect with this reserved man.

Instead, Patrick Stevens had been cold and unyielding. And Emily’s heart had broken as she’d watched Jason build a wall around his emotions. Her once fun-loving, affectionate son had grown sarcastic and rude. Prepubescent hormones were one explanation. But Emily thought his attitude was probably more the result of one disappointment too many coming from a father figure.

Of course, Emily shouldn’t blame the teacher. Loving his students wasn’t in his contract. Nor trying to understand them.

“Ms. Patterson?”

Emily flushed. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“I pointed out the figure we’ll need from the PTO funds. Tiffany didn’t seem to think it would be a problem.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of money. I’ve seen the PTO budget and I can’t help but wonder why Tiffany agreed to this.”

“She mentioned having some special fund-raising project in the works for the spring that would make it possible.”

“What kind of special project?”

“That’s just it. I have no idea. She wouldn’t say. Just said it was big.”

“I’ll talk to Principal Ross. Maybe she knew about it. Something that big would need to be planned well in advance.”

“Time is critical, Ms. Patterson. The hotel and bus companies are pressing for deposits. We have enough from our own fund-raising, but I don’t want to make a nonrefundable deposit if there’s a chance the PTO won’t come through on what’s been promised. I need to know right away.”

“Mr. Stevens, obviously I can’t commit to something I know nothing about. I’ll talk to the principal, see if she knows where the rest of Tiffany’s notes might be. In the meantime, Principal Ross is putting my name on the PTO account. I can’t access the bank statements until then.”

“Can’t Ross access them?”

Emily shook her head. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this. “There was some mix-up at the bank and Principal Ross was removed as a cosigner. After the treasurer moved to Texas in November, Tiffany was the only one with access.”

Patrick cursed under his breath. He seemed to swear a lot for a dispassionate guy.

EMILY SET A STACK of paper plates in the center of the large picnic table she used for a kitchen dinette set. Nancy’s husband, Beau, was working tonight, so she and Ana were staying for dinner.

“So maybe Tiffany was playing fast and loose with the PTO funds?” Nancy’s eyes sparkled with interest as she folded paper napkins and arranged them with plastic cutlery. “I knew there was something about that woman.”

“I didn’t say that. We won’t know anything until one of us can access the account. Principal Ross said she’d go to the bank tomorrow and straighten it out.”

“But still, it’s a little strange, don’t you think? Only Tiffany’s name as signatory on the account?”

“Shh. I don’t want to start any rumors.” Emily nodded meaningfully toward the family room, where her two younger boys, Mark and Ryan, played hide-and-seek with Nancy’s daughter, Ana.

Jason had basketball practice and Jeremy was playing at a neighbor’s house.

Nancy sighed. “My bad. I guess I was hoping to dig up some dirt on the woman. She was just trying too hard to be perfect. And was downright mean, to boot.”

“I hope all of this turns out to be an honest mistake. The whole PTO thing is getting more complicated by the minute. Patrick Stevens is pressing me to release funds for the sixth-grade trip to Sea World.”

“You obviously need all the facts before you can do something like that. What’s his hurry?”

“He has good reason.” Emily put out a large bucket of the Colonel’s chicken, along with containers of coleslaw and baked beans. “Hotel and transportation deposits need to be made. But there’s nothing I can do.”

“This is more than you bargained for, huh?” Nancy’s voice was warm with concern.

“You don’t know the half of it. The PE teacher gave me some brochures for sports equipment. The art teacher mentioned how desperately we need art supplies. And the music instructor showed me how old and worn-out the band instruments are.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure, Em.”

“It is. And there’s a part of me that thinks the money Tiffany supposedly promised for the Florida trip could be put to better uses.”

“It’s a tough call, no doubt about it. But if you find Tiffany’s notes and she already promised the money, you’ll be hard-pressed to back out now.”

“That’s just it. I’ll be damned if I do and damned if I don’t. It might be best if Tiffany’s notes aren’t found. Then I can at least do what my conscience says is right.”

Nancy squeezed her arm. “Let’s look on the bright side. Maybe her fabulous spring fund-raiser will bring in so much money, you’ll be able to please everyone.”

Emily nodded. “Maybe.”

But as a single mom on a tight budget, she knew all too well there was rarely enough money to go around and someone always ended up mad. And it was starting to look like Patrick Stevens might be the angry one if the PTO budget was tight.

PATRICK ARRIVED at school well before the first bell. It had become a tradition.

And sure enough, he saw two figures huddled in the doorway, their thin coats probably affording very little warmth. It had been a mild winter for upstate New York, but mornings were still chilly. “Hey Ari, Kat. You look like you could use some hot chocolate.”

The two kids turned, nodding.

“The usual spot?” he asked.

They nodded again, following him to a bench near the doors.

Though Patrick walked slowly, he still reached the bench before them. He turned and waited.

Ari’s gait was erratic, one foot turned inward. His twin sister, Kat, slowed her pace to match his.