Carrie Weaver - Four Little Problems

He hoped she knew he meant it as a compliment. And hoped she didn’t realize how totally distracting the combination was.

Closing his eyes, he tried to summon the image of Ari and Kat, laughing at the antics of dolphins.

It worked. Emily’s curves were no longer an issue. Patrick was a man with a mission.

The documents flew by, a journal-like testimonial to how overscheduled Tiffany Bigelow had been.

Along about page four, Patrick started to sweat. Tiffany had apparently been unwilling or unable to refuse a single request for funds. A little mental math told him she’d promised more money than the PTO was likely to raise in four years, let alone four months.

His heart sank. He no longer wanted to think about Ari and Kat at Sea World. Because, instead, all he saw was the sad acceptance in their dark eyes. And the I-knew-it-was-too-good-to-be-true slump to Kat’s shoulders. Worse would be Ari’s devastation, because he’d believed Patrick’s promises with his whole being.

Emily’s home, a place that had initially seemed chaotic yet warm, now started to close in on him. He needed to escape, to think. To figure out some way to make this work.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “A blank disk?”

Emily didn’t respond.

When he turned, he realized she’d been too shocked to speak. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her lips trembled.

“I said, do you have a blank disk?” His voice came out harsher than he intended.

She leaned over his shoulder to open the cabinet door.

He barely noticed how close those voluptuous curves were. All he could comprehend was that he was royally screwed.

Emily handed him a floppy disk.

She was silent as he copied the disk, then accepted her copy with a murmured thank-you. She walked him to the door, saying a quiet goodbye.

And when he stopped in the doorway and turned, she didn’t try to conceal the sadness in her deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry, Patrick. It looks like there are going to be a lot of disappointed people. It’ll be a free-for-all for any funds we locate.”

“Yeah, well, you do what you have to do.” He raised his hand in a silent goodbye.

EMILY TIPTOED into Ryan’s room and watched him sleep. This was what mattered. Not how much money was missing from the PTO fund and not how many teachers would probably hate her guts.

She recalled Patrick’s frown when he’d suggested she do what she needed to do. It had almost sounded like a threat, except for the tinge of sadness in his voice.

She brushed hair off Ryan’s forehead. He appeared so sweet and angelic when asleep. Faint traces of his red fruit-drink mustache were the only evidence of his night of six-year-old debauchery.

Smiling, she counted her blessings. Her children were precious and she wouldn’t trade them for anything. Not even a spotless, peaceful house.

Tiptoeing from his room, she stopped outside Jason’s door. A thin strip of light shone beneath.

Emily threw back her shoulders and prepared to do battle, when all she really wanted was a hot bath and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

She tapped softly and entered, allowing Jason enough time to cover up for modesty if he wasn’t dressed, but not enough time to hide serious mischief—like bomb-making or drugs. Sighing, Emily knew she would have been shocked to find Jason doing something illegal or dangerous. But then again, it was often the parents who were the last to know.

Her gaze swept the room till she located her son slouching on the bed. Fortunately, he was dressed and there were no signs of a felony in progress.

Emily suppressed an urge to grab him by his shirtfront and shake some sense into him. Instead, she perched on the edge of his bed. “We have a rule, Jase, because I think it’s important. You broke that rule tonight.”

“We were only studying.”

Emily mentally counted to ten. Not only was he lying, but by doing so, he implied she was too stupid to comprehend what she’d seen. “What? You were studying Cassie’s tonsils with your tongue?”

“Mom!”

“I thought I could trust you.” His betrayal hurt. She depended on him to take care of the smaller children.

“Really, we were studying. But we started kissing like two seconds before you got home and—”

“Even if I believed that, it means you weren’t watching your brothers during those few seconds. That’s all it takes for a child to drown or start a fire. I expect you to act responsibly when you’re in charge of your brothers.”

“Mark and Ryan are fine.”

“No thanks to you. Which brings me to my second point. A teenage girl and boy home alone together is not a good thing. I don’t care how trustworthy you are—and I like Cassie—but things get out of hand really quickly. I think it’s about time for us to have a refresher talk about pregnancy and STDs.”

His face blanched. “Please, Mom, not that. Can’t you just ground me?”

The irony made Emily want to smile. She was so incredibly uncool and embarrassing to her kids. But a smart mother used it to her advantage. “It’s late. I’ll spare you the safe sex discussion tonight. But we will discuss it. And until then, you’re grounded.”

Relief flashed in Jason’s blue eyes, so reminiscent of his father’s. Oh, how she loved this headstrong child. And how it terrified her that he might do something stupid to derail his life. “Choices, Jase. Every choice you make has the possibility of changing your life, good or bad.”

Jason’s eyes started to glaze over. She could tell he’d escaped to whatever alternate reality he inhabited when she lectured. Sighing, he said, “I’m tired, Mom.”

“Yes, so am I.” Bone tired from nonstop problems and decision-making. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jason?”

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

His frown deepened as if she’d used some horrible curse. She hoped, underneath his tough exterior, that he still enjoyed hearing his mom tell him she loved him. Because she intended to keep at it indefinitely. Some days, that was all she had to give.

When no response was forthcoming, Emily turned to leave.

“Mom?”

She stopped, her hand on the knob. “Yes?” Maybe he’d say those four little words she longed to hear.

I love you, Mom. She could almost see him as a pudgy toddler, handing her a wilted dandelion. What a sweet, sweet child he’d been. Until puberty.

Jason frowned. “What was he doing here?”

“Hm?” For a moment she’d forgotten their visitor. “Mr. Stevens stopped by to copy a disk containing PTO records.”

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“Um, you’re not, like, dating him or anything, are you?”

The horror in Jason’s voice made Emily laugh. The boy had a vivid imagination. “No, Jason, I’m not dating him.”

“WHAT AM I GOING TO DO, Nancy?” Emily almost forgot her problems as she took a bite of double cheeseburger. A large order of french fries beckoned, promising to make her forget her doubts. Two days had gone by since they’d retrieved the disk and Emily was no closer to figuring out a solution.

Nancy speared lettuce and marinated chicken, pausing to say, “I wish I had an easy answer, but I don’t. Looks to me like you have two choices. One, throw up your hands and declare the school year a disaster. Because of Tiffany’s duplicity, nobody would blame you.”

Emily shifted in her seat. She didn’t want to admit defeat.

“Or, two, you start organizing fund-raising campaigns like crazy. It’ll be hard, but at least you can salvage a few of the smaller programs.”

“Yes, you’re right. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. I’ll need some help, though.”