Beth Harbison - Head Over Heels

Which meant that he’d have to wait another ten months to apply again. The school had only enough money, assuming full enrollment, to maintain itself for two more years. If that didn’t change, Connor Primary Day School would have to close.

“Why did Mrs. Silvers rescind her offer?” Grace asked.

“That’s beside the point—” Luke began.

“No, no, it’s a good question,” Fred said. “She rescinded her offer because of our policy change on the honor code at the end of last semester.”

Luke nodded miserably. He’d known some oldschoolers would disapprove of the change, but he’d felt strongly that the code, as written, wasn’t fair.

“What change?” Grace wanted to know.

“There was some cheating on the final exam. About six students in Amanda Bittner’s class. The old policy was that if anyone cheated, the entire class would be expelled. But that was plainly unfair.” He looked at Fred Bailey. “Surely you pointed that out.”

Fred nodded and swabbed his forehead again. “Several of us tried valiantly, but Daphne hates scandal. Didn’t want her name attached to anything that smacks of dishonesty. And she’s not the only one—she nearly got Ginger Anderson and Lynn Morrow on board with her.”

“But that’s so narrow-minded!” Grace objected.

Luke agreed privately, but aloud he said, “These are older folks who have been living in this town for half a century or more, Grace. Not only are their personal codes of conduct strict, but they hold almost impossibly high expectations for everyone around them.”

“Exactly so,” Fred agreed. “So we’ve got to walk the straight and narrow, Luke, the straight and narrow. We can’t have anything happen this year that has even the slightest appearance of impropriety.”

Luke nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Mr. Bailey, you said this had something to do with me,” Grace said, her voice a little smaller than usual. “I hope my presence here hasn’t been the cause of any trouble, what with my divorce from Michael and all.”

Luke shot a fast look at Fred. That hadn’t even occurred to him. Admittedly, Luke hadn’t wanted to hire Grace, but he wouldn’t stand for her termination on the basis of her personal life.

Fred looked surprised. “Certainly not, my dear. It’s nothing to do with your divorce. It’s about your job here.”

Grace swallowed visibly. “My job?”

The older man nodded and looked regretful. “I’m afraid so. One of the budgeting proposals before the board is to cut out transportation.”

Chapter Five

Grace’s stomach dropped. They might cut out transportation? As in, she might lose the only job she could get?

It was totally consistent with the year she’d had, she thought cynically. She’d lost her husband, lost her home, begged Luke Stewart to give her a job as a bus driver, and now she was going to lose even that.

Obviously—and this could not be overstated—she had really ticked off the Man Upstairs somewhere along the line.

“We can’t cut out transportation,” Luke said, with the merest glance her way. “People are counting on it.”

The glance was not lost on Fred Bailey. He followed it to Grace, then said, “There are other jobs.”

Luke hesitated a small but noticeable fraction of a moment. “ Students are counting on it,” he said. “Some of these kids live miles away, with parents who, for whatever reason, can’t drive them to school. If we lose transportation, we lose students, and that means we lose revenue.”

“Tell me something, Luke. How many buses do we have here?”

“Two.”

“For how many students?”

Luke thought for a moment. “About twenty-five.”

Fred grimaced and swabbed his forehead again. “That’s only about ten percent of the student body. Last time I looked, we weren’t making much profit on transportation fees. With the cost of oil going up, we might even be working at a loss.”

“No way.” Luke shook his head. “We’re making several hundred dollars’ profit with each transportation contract we have.”

Fred gave a shrug that said he wasn’t quite buying it. “We’ll talk about it another time,” he said dismissively. “We’re not making any changes immediately.”

Luke expelled a tense breath and stood very rigid beside Grace. “I hope a few alternative plans were introduced.”

“Of course, of course,” Fred said. Grace got the impression that he’d already made up his mind about it. “Now there’s just one more thing.”

Grace could almost feel Luke’s agitation growing.

“What’s that?” he asked, clipped.

“As you may recall, the board wants the staff to be certified in CPR.”

“That’s right.” Luke looked at Grace. “Did you say you were certified?”

“Well, I took a class at the Red Cross, but I don’t have the actual certification.” She was about to add that she’d signed up for a refresher class at the firehouse already, but Luke interrupted her.

“That’s okay,” he said. “You can just take the course here. I should have mentioned it before. It’s a new policy, and I wasn’t thinking about it when I hired you.”

“She’s not the only one who needs the certification,” Fred said, raising an eyebrow at Luke.

“I know, Libby Doyle in the math department is already scheduled for a class in Dover this summer when she goes to visit her family.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

For a second, Grace felt sorry for him. She’d been to his office; she knew he had a lot piled on his desk already. Although she questioned whether they needed to work on the bus so early in the morning, she did believe that it had taken some effort on his part to carve out that hour or so he had to do it.

“The entire staff needs to be certified,” Fred was saying. “My secretary already looked into it and discovered that the Red Cross is sponsoring an all-day course at the firehouse next month.”

“What’s the date?”

“Saturday the 20th,” Grace answered. “I saw the sign at the pharmacy and thought at the time it would be a good idea to refresh my memory, so I signed up.”

“Wonderful!” Fred was clearly delighted. “Such a clever girl. You are your mother’s daughter.” He turned back to Luke.

“So all we need to do is sign you up.”

“I’ll be there,” Luke said, sounding as if it were the last thing on earth he wanted to do.

“Excellent,” Fred said, patting his handkerchief along the back of his neck. “Glad you’re both willing to pitch in this way.”

Luke nodded, as if he’d had a choice, which everyone knew he hadn’t. Then he looked at his watch. “I’m sorry,” he said to Grace, “but I have to get inside for a conference call in fifteen minutes, and I’m not going to be around in the morning. How about if we finish this tomorrow evening? Say, around seven?”

“It’s a date,” she said, automatically.

He didn’t correct her, but he might as well have for the dark look he gave her. “Seven,” he repeated. “We’ll do one last drill. After that, you’re on your own.”

* * *

“ When are we going home?”

“We are home,” Grace said to Jimmy for what seemed like the tenth time the next day. “For now.” She stabbed the ground with a trowel, thinking of Michael, and tossed the dirt aside. It was late to be planting tomatoes and basil, but she’d bought mature plants, and with a little luck she’d have a midsummer harvest. “You’re going to have to think of it that way.”

Jimmy rubbed his eyes with dirty hands, streaking mud across his lightly freckled face. His blond hair was sprinkled with dirt, like powdered sugar on toast. “But it’s not like home.”