Kindergarten Baby: A Novel (24 page)

“How were they bad?” asked Lindsey. “What happened?”

“You should have seen it,” Harley exclaimed. “Bobby kicked Ms. Laura and then spit on her.”

“What?!”

But he had even more to share. “Willy laughed and threw all the table baskets on the floor. All the pencils and crayons and scissors went flying.”

“And then he stood up on the table and danced around,” someone else said.

Joseph put up his hand. “He looked like a bad-dancing, stupid chicken.”

Lindsey could definitely picture that.

Armando pointed at the wall. “I got to push the button to call the principal. I never got to do that before.”

Back to Harley. “Then they got taken away and spended, and we got to sing and color some more.”

“Mr. Tom even helped take them away.”

Lindsey stared, horrified. “The custodian helped the principal?”

“And the cafeteria man, too,” added Joseph, seeming delighted that he wasn’t the one in trouble.

Emma nodded. “Ms. Laura got to go home, and Mrs. Peterson came in from the library to watch us for the rest of the day. She was nice. She read us stories.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Poor Laura, Lindsey thought. She resolved to check with the office to hear the adult version of what had taken place then arrange to do something special for her friend later in the day. At lunchtime she went to see Sally, the office manager.

“Yes, Ms. Sommerfield,” Sally said. “The principal suspended both boys. They won’t be returning to school until Monday.”

“Can I see the paperwork?” asked Lindsey. “Bobby’s grandmother wants a call back, and I want to be prepared for that conversation.”

“I don’t have it. You’ll have to get it from the principal, and she’s at the monthly administrators’ meeting all day.”

“There’s no way to pull up the paperwork on the computer? I like to get back to people right away.”

“Nope. Not that I know of.”

“Well, can you tell me anything about what happened? Did you see the boys?”

Sally’s jaw tightened, and she glared at Lindsey. “Oh, I saw them, all right. I had to try to keep them on that couch till their rides showed up. Willy’s mom came relatively quickly, which was a good thing. If he’d stayed any longer I would have killed him. He jumped on the couch, he swung his backpack over his head and knocked over the plants on my counter‌—‌and that’s just the beginning. Bobby’s mom and grandmother didn’t pick him up until an hour past dismissal time. That was the longest hour of my life. I called for the principal and Laura to restrain him‌—‌I’m not trained to do that, and even if I were, I wouldn’t try it with that kiddo‌—‌but they had already gone. I did my best to corral him in the corner where he couldn’t reach anything else to throw at me.

“After that, I had to listen to his mom scream at him for being so bad, for forcing her to get out of bed, and other stuff about how he was nothing but trouble. There isn’t enough money in the world to get me to spend an entire day with these guys, let along a whole school year, unless I could use a straightjacket and duct tape. And just for the record, I would demand hazard pay.”

Lindsey felt terrible. Yes, the boys were trouble, but she’d never imagined they’d behave so badly. “I am sorry the boys were so…‌difficult. They don’t do well with change,” she tried attempting a positive spin. “Well, thank you for all you did.”

She couldn’t do any more today regarding the boys and their suspensions from school, so Lindsey headed home to see Wendell and Malcolm, to unpack, and to make a plan to get together with Laura. Her friend would need to some additional venting time to purge herself of the horrendous experience with the boys over the past few days.

It felt great to get home and know that they heard her coming. Tails were wagging‌—‌including Malcolm’s, sort of. “Hi guys. I missed you so much,” she exclaimed, taking Wendell’s head in her hands.

She rubbed his ears and let him lick her face while Malcolm landed on her shoulder and began to peck at strands of her hair. Her two best friends followed her from room to room as she tried to put away her clothes and materials from the conference, not letting her out of their sight. It made the whole process enjoyable, but slow.

She gave her winter jacket one last look before putting it away. “Guess I won’t be needing this till next year.”

Wendell left her side to keep watch by the phone message machine. One of his eccentricities‌—‌all dogs have them, but this one was pretty unique‌—‌was to stare at the machine whenever the message light blinked. The first message was Jake, confirming that he’d picked up the animals. The second and third messages were junk‌—‌recorded sales calls. One was about refinancing and the other one started off with, “Congratulations! You’ve won a trip—” Lindsey pushed the erase button before it went any further.

Then a man’s unfamiliar voice delivered the fourth message. “Lindsey? Are you there? Pick up.” Pause. “Damn.”

Lindsey frowned. It hadn’t been Anthony’s voice‌—‌she’d still recognize it anywhere. Pretty sure it wasn’t Emmett, though she wouldn’t put it past him. Jake? No. Not unless he was sick with a bad cold that had lowered his voice. And it was too soon for bill collectors to be calling. She wasn’t overdue on any payments…‌yet. She was just about to pick up the receiver and call Laura when the phone rang.

“Hello,” she said tentatively, hoping it was Laura.

“Well, thank God you are finally home,” said the same mysterious, menacing voice.

“To whom am I speaking?” she asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

“Oh, good grief, girl. Do you always have to sound like such a stuffy teacher? You know perfectly well who this is. We talked before. I have news you need to hear. So just shut up and listen, princess.”

Lindsey sat down because her knees felt weak. Her hands shook, and her heart raced. She tried to remember the message Emmett had relayed to her before about a caller, but her memory was a bit cloudy; she’d had other matters on her mind that day. Then there was the strange call she’d received at school, telling her about Anthony hurting Wendell.

“You might as well forget about Anthony,” the man muttered. “He and his girlfriend are getting married in August. It’s all worked out. So, Little Bo Peep, he’s not yours to keep,” he said in a singsong rhythm. “Leave him alone, ‘cause he’s not coming home.”

Panicking, she hung up, then stared at the phone. Why would anyone want to scare her? Who was this person who seemed to know all of Anthony’s and Shawna’s plans? She toyed with the idea of calling Anthony. Perhaps he knew who it was or why he’d chosen to harass Lindsey with the sinister phone calls.

When the phone rang again, Lindsey jerked away and almost fell off the chair. She couldn’t take another call right now. She decided to let the machine pick it up.

“Hey, Linds. Laura. I was wondering if we—”

She grabbed the phone. “Laura! I am so glad it’s you! I was just going to call you, but then this other call came in, and I am still trying to recover from the creepy way it made me feel.”

“What creepy way?”

Lindsey began to explain about the calls, the man, and the weirdness of it all, when Laura interrupted. “Lock all your doors. I’m coming over.”

Lindsey had never been happier to see another person than she did when Laura arrived. They double-locked all the doors, checked that the windows were closed and locked, then took inventory of all their defense possibilities. Laura had brought two pepper spray canisters and a hunting knife. Lindsey produced a large flashlight and a small gun.

Laura stared at it. “You have a gun? Since when?”

“Since Anthony lived here. He said we should always have a gun for protection.”

“And you know how to shoot it? Is it loaded?”

She nodded. “He taught me how to shoot it when we first got married. It has six bullets in it, and here’s a box with more.”

“Huh. Okay.” She blinked at Lindsey, obviously shocked to see her quiet, unassuming friend handling a gun. “Well, you can be in charge of that. I’ll stick with my pepper spray.”

They spent the rest of the night throwing themselves an old-fashioned, girly slumber party complete with brushing and styling their hair, doing each other’s nails, and eating ice cream right out of the container. And though Lindsey hadn’t slept in the master bedroom since that awful afternoon, they used that room tonight for the sleepover. The best friends chatted nonstop for hours, laughing and crying. They talked about the two troublemaking boys in Lindsey’s kindergarten class, the men no longer in Lindsey’s life, and the strange phone calls. But when Lindsey asked Laura how things were going with Jake, the free-flowing talk stopped.

“Come on, Laura. Spill.”

Laura shrugged, reluctant. “We still haven’t gone out,” she muttered. “Not even for a drink or a hamburger or anything. Oh sure, I see him at the restaurant once in a while, and we talk on the phone occasionally‌—‌and he does still seem interested in me, always asking questions about me‌—‌but it never goes any further. Nothing comes of it. I’d made up my mind that‌—‌come hell or high water‌—‌Jake and I would have our first real date the weekend you were gone. I planned it all out, arranged everything.”

Lindsey gave her a wry grin. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t work out. All he had to do was show up, but he never even returned my calls, so I never got to tell him about the fun plans I’d made for us.”

“How many phone messages did you leave?”

“Uh…‌One.”

“One?” She shoved her friend’s shoulder playfully. “Gee whiz, Laura. That’s not enough. And I’ll bet you just said something like, ‘give me a call when you get in,’ huh?”

Laura nodded. “Yeah, something like that. So? I didn’t want to sound pushy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, where Jake is concerned, you need to push. Even I know that. Hey, I’m still hungry. How about you? I’m craving Chinese food.”

“You’re bad, Lindsey. Brilliant, but bad.”

Lindsey smiled. “Get ready to push, my friend.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The doorbell didn’t ring, but they knew someone stood on the doorstep because Wendell hobbled closer, listening. They heard a definite thump, followed by a voice mumbling something like,
Come on. I’m here. Open up
. They’d been expecting to see Jake, loaded down with their Chinese order‌—‌they’d even ordered enough for him to join them. Instead, when they opened the door, they saw an overweight woman in her late fifties.

The woman dropped the bag she’d held between her teeth. “Here’s the sesame chicken and white rice. And here we’ve got the lettuce wraps, the veggie egg rolls, and the chef’s special.” Then she pulled out a basket from under her left arm and handed it to Laura. “That will be $31.27.”

Lindsey handed her $35.

“How much was the basket?” asked Laura. “I don’t think we ordered anything that comes in a basket.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring that. It was on your porch when I got here. I just picked it up so I wouldn’t trip over it. Do you need change?”

They didn’t need change; in fact, they added another dollar to her tip then hurried inside to check the contents of the basket. The purple cloth that lined the old woven basket also covered the items within, and they hesitated, unsure of whether they were more excited or wary.

“Wait,” said Lindsey. “Let’s try to guess.”

“Okay, Ms. Kindergarten Teacher, I’ll go along with that idea as long as we can eat while we think.”

Lindsey gathered plates and glasses, a bottle of chardonnay, and utensils for Laura‌—‌Lindsey preferred to use chopsticks‌—‌then set up their feast on the coffee table in the living room.

By the time they were all ready to eat, Wendell, tired of waiting, stuck his head into the basket, revealing what appeared to be a flask and some small cakes or biscuits. Laura unscrewed the flask’s top and sniffed.

“Smells like some kind of red wine.”

Lindsey examined the food. “These are just little cakes without icing.”

They didn’t know what to make of this orphaned basket of goodies, and neither of them could make any kind of reasonable guess at who had left it. To be on the safe side, they decided not eat or drink any of the basket’s contents, just in case a big, bad wolf was involved.

At midnight they turned the lights out with the intent of falling asleep. After all, the next morning was a school day. After about twenty minutes of lying on their backs, eyes wide open, Laura rolled over to face Lindsey.

“Are you still awake? You never finished telling me about the cowboy.”

Lindsey chuckled. “That story is not going to help us get to sleep. Plus, it’s kind of long,” she replied. Regardless, she managed to tell a condensed version of the events surrounding Martin.

“Are you going to call him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Probably not.”

***

At the end of her long, exhausting week, Lindsey slumped with relief. She sorely needed the weekend to recuperate from the conference, the traveling, the terror she had felt‌—‌whether real or imagined‌—‌and the havoc Bobby and Willy had caused, not to mention the trouble they were in. Her first course of action began with a soothing cup of chamomile tea along with a plate of cheese and crackers. Then she proceeded to write several To Do lists, hoping to prioritize and relax a bit.

Tonight’s list would be short, Saturday’s list would be long, and she’d keep Sunday open for now. First she would clean out her traveling bag, then organize her purse. After that, she would play with Malcolm and Wendell for a while. Then they would watch her complete the remaining simple but necessary tasks from her list: cleaning, laundry, and bill paying.

She reached into her purse and sudden flash of panic shot through her veins. Her driver’s license wasn’t in her wallet where it should have been. She flipped the purse upside down and dumped everything out.

“Oh no. This is not good,” she muttered, relieved that at least she hadn’t been pulled over by the police during the past couple of days. “This is not good at all.”

‘Find Driver’s License’ was added to the top of her Friday night list. She mentally retraced her steps all the way back from Rugby, and it didn’t take long for her to remember the last time she’d actually seen her driver’s license. Security had required her to present it with her boarding pass at the checkpoint in Bismarck before boarding her flight to Phoenix. She looked in her carry-on bag, wondering if she’d accidentally dropped it in there. It wasn’t in any of the zippered pockets.