by Rose, Kristi
As Principal Josh spoke about her role, he placed his hand on her back and gestured to her like Vanna White did the electronic letters. She cast him a brief and furtive look of such loathing I sat up straighter.
“Did you see that?” I asked Rachel, who was nodding and smiling to whatever Principal Josh was saying.
“See what?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth. Rachel had always been a teacher pleaser. No chance she was going to give her attention to anyone other than Principal Josh when he was talking. Heaven forbid.
“Incredible that you missed the look the counselor gave Principal Josh, like she thought a dog turd was better than him.”
Rachel elbowed me. “I doubt that.”
I leaned toward Precious. “Did you see it?”
She nodded. “He disgusts her. Probably the pleats.”
Principal Josh gestured to his staff then clapped his hands, cueing the audience to applaud the hard-working women, all the while his smile never wavered. Then, with a grand wave of his hand, he dismissed us. Rachel sprang from her seat, her grip strong on my elbow as she dragged me toward the principal and the open doors. I dragged Precious.
“Hi, Principal Josh, Counselor Post,” Rachel said as she planted us in front of them. “I’m Rachel True. We’ve spoken on the phone before. And this is my sister, Samantha.”
I laughed. I was sure they’d spoken on the phone before a lot. A lot. Multiple times a week would be my guess, knowing Rachel.
“You don’t have to call me Counselor Post. Danika is fine. I remember speaking with you.” She held out her hand and shook Rachel’s.
I watched her like a hawk hoping to see another glare. Maybe I’d imagined it.
“Cora has a great support system with my parents and sister. We’ve done what we can to ease her into this transition with me shipping out.” She elbowed me. “But I want to know if she’s struggling or acting out.” Rachel pointed to me. “She’ll try to keep things from me because she’s afraid I’ll worry.”
I shrugged and smiled at Danika. “I’m not afraid she’ll worry. I know she will.” I glanced at Josh. His smile was still going strong. His pearly whites, probably veneers, glistened under the fluorescent lights. His tie had little stick families all over it. Yoga mom, karate son, business dad, and baby sister. Except each family on his tie was different. It was kinda cool. His overall appearance screamed “educator.” Which was good considering he was in charge of a bunch of them. And up close he wasn’t hideous or anything. I could see a certain appeal.
Danika put her hand out to shake mine. “You can reach out to me any anytime.”
I liked this counselor. She seemed straightforward.
Next, I shook hands with Josh. If that’s what it could be called. We clasped hands, but instead of shaking, he tucked my hand between both of his and squeezed. Weird.
“And who is this with you?” Principal Josh asked, his eyes on Precious. Precious awed everyone. She was supermodel pretty.
She stuck out her hand. “Erika Shurmann, I’m a business and life coach.” She shook Danika’s hand first.
Principal Josh’s brows shot up. “What exactly does a business and life coach do?”
“I help people level up.”
Josh’s focus on Precious intensified as he took her hand. He stood taller, shoulders broadening as he leaned toward her. When his button-down shirt stretched tight across his chest and side, I glimpsed two large overlapping squares under the arm extended to her. Like a patch or something a smoker might wear.
I did a sweeping inspection of Principal Josh. He had the telltale pucker lines of a smoker around his mouth, but his teeth weren’t yellow thanks to the veneers. I glanced at his hands as he clasped them over Precious’s outstretched one. Sure enough, right above the middle knuckle of Principal Josh’s middle finger was a tinge of yellow. I’d put money on Josh being a smoker trying to quit.
“Do you have a card, Ms. Shurmann? I’m thinking of leveling up my personal life.”
Barf. The nerve of this guy to flirt with parents around. Though, to be fair, Precious had this effect on men everywhere.
“Hard pass, Principal Josh, but if you’re searching, I can give you the name of other companies.” She pulled her hand free.
I choked back a laugh.
Danika cleared her throat and said to me, “Didn’t you used to work at Toomey Studios?”
I had to think about the question. Working as a photographer for Toomey seemed liked a lifetime ago. No sooner had I quit that job when my life went sideways. I’d been widowed, found out my marriage wasn’t legal since Carson already had a wife, inherited a PI business I knew nothing about, was chased by bad guys, and then brought down said bad guys. Hard to believe that was six months ago.
Principal Josh turned his wide-eyed gaze to me and did the impossible. His smiled broadened. “You’re a photographer?”
I smelled a trap.
“Yes,” Rachel said. “A high quality one.”
“My camera’s broken,” I said.
Rachel gave me an odd look. “No, it’s not. You were just taking pictures of Cora at the beach today.”
“Well, the film was giving me trouble,” I mumbled.
“Aren’t most cameras digital now” Danika asked. I dropped her down a level on the Like-meter.
“Did I say film? I meant screen,” I said.
Principal Josh squeezed my shoulder, his fingers massaging. “We need a photographer for the Fall Festival to take pictures of the families from ten to one. We—” He chuckled. “By we I mean the PTC will have everything set to go. All you need is to show up with your camera and smile.” His hand slid off my shoulder and rubbed my upper arm. “You could also help us get candids of the staff, PTC, and our environs for the yearbook. You seem like the best person for that.”
I showed teeth and hoped it looked like a smile. The thought of taking family pictures that weren’t of my family was a special kind of hell.
Rachel face me, pleading with her eyes, “The festival is right before I ship out. Cora can see you supporting her school. You’d be doing a good thing.”
Not knowing how to respond, I said nothing.
A rogue bird flew in from one of the open ginormous windows and buzzed us. Danka swat at it and squealed in fear.
The PTC president ducked and covered her hair.
Likely just as afraid as the humans and discombobulated, the bird circled and zigzagged over us erratically before colliding into the top pane of the lifted window and crashing to the floor. The little bird shuddered once. Then Died.
At my sister’s feet.
Or mine too because we were standing side by side.
Rachel gasped.
I grabbed her arm. “Do not read into this.”
“What am I missing?” Principal Josh said.
I stared at the little bird. A magpie.
Precious said, “Its believed if a bird dies at your feet something bad is going to happen.”
Chapter 2
Saturday - Mid September
I woke to my sister misting me with a squirt bottle.
“Pleeg,” I said, blowing hair from my mouth while wiping the dew from my face. I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow.
“Get up.” She pushed my head into the bed. “You have seven minutes before you’re expected to take pictures at Fall Festival.”
I’d heard through the grapevine, aka Precious, that the Village Garden School had committed to hosting the photography booth as part of a clever strategy to beholden the school to the community, to win over those holdouts that begrudged a different school outshining the regular old schools. Anytime a person looked at their picture, they’d think of the charter school.
“Go away,” I mumbled. I’d stayed up way too late watching YouTube videos on how to be a PI.
I was living off the dregs of a small windfall left behind by my lying bigamist husband. I’d used a portion to fix the air conditioner in LC, my classic Jeep Wagonee
r. Working the case of my not-husband’s unexpected death left me battered and bruised, so I’d taken a budget trip to Hawaii to reset. What was left was earmarked for rent and food. I needed to step up my game or else I would be dirt poor. I had my job at Ralph’s doing the online grocery shopping gig but wasn’t getting more than fifteen hours a week. LC, named after the explorers Lewis and Clark, drank those wages weekly in gas and oil.
“Sam, come on. People are lined up. Mom is there, and she said you better not make her look bad.”
Oh, snap. Rachel had pulled out the big guns.
I flipped onto my back and squinted at my sister. “You’re so mean.”
She shrugged. “Mean would be to let you sleep past ten and have Mom come and get you.”
True.
I rolled from the bed, groaning. “I hate taking pictures of smiling, happy people.”
“You take pictures of us all the time.” She pushed me toward the bathroom.
I stopped at the doorway. “I like you all. It’s everyone else. All fake smiles while the dad is thinking he can’t wait to go back to gambling away their mortgage money, or the mom is having an affair. Maybe he is, too.” I snorted with disgust. From the floor I picked up yoga pants and changed into those.
Rachel raised her brows as she studied me “You’ve gotten cynical. One bad experience, and its changed you.”
“Says the woman who hasn’t dated since her fiancée died.” I stepped into the bathroom to roll on underarm stink repellant, don a bra and a tunic style T-shirt.
In my bedroom, Rachel was lying across my bed. “I’m hoping time with Dad will do wonders for Cora. She isn’t around men a lot.”
“When Dad’s done with her, she’ll be a boss at picking her own fantasy league,” I said. “She’s an amazing kid, and that’s all because of you.”
“But maybe I should date,” Rachel mused.
“Maybe think about that when you get back. You’ve got a lot on your plate.” On Monday we would fly to Virginia with Rachel to see her ship out. Pretending that her deployment wasn’t a big deal while focusing on everything else, regardless of how insignificant, kept us from impromptu crying episodes.
My phone rang, and we looked at each other.
“Ten o’clock,” Rachel said. “You’re officially late.”
“Crap.” I stuffed my feet in UGGs. I pushed my hair back with a fabric headband and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth. “This is the bad omen from that bird,” I called to Rachel.
She groaned. “I hope so. I know it’s a silly superstition, but I don’t need one more thing to worry about.”
The ringing continued.
“Grab that,” I yelled before sticking the toothbrush in my mouth.
“Not on your life,” she said.
My mom and I might not agree with how my life was playing out, but I wasn’t interested in making her look bad or upsetting her any more than I already did. She was the town mayor and one day aspired to run the world. Or the school board. Whichever came first.
At the door I grabbed my camera case. Then Rachel and I dashed out. I lived in a simple four-room apartment over my dad’s newspaper. Living room-kitchen combo, bathroom, and bedroom. The place used to be an Airbnb and extra cash for my parents, so the decor was nice and inviting.
The newspaper office, and apartment, were half a block from the downtown park where the Fall Festival was happening. We didn’t have far to hustle. But as we drew closer, I slowed. I wasn’t about to rush up looking flustered.
The park butted up against the Windy River and was swarming with families. Countless booths ran the perimeter of the park and offered food, information for community programs, face painting, and so much more. The photography booth was near the entrance and set up to look like a library. Two tall shelves stacked with books were the backdrop surrounding a small stage. A line of people waited.
“Crap,” I mumbled.
My mom stood at the head of the line with one hand on her hip and one arm around Cora. She raised a brow. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
Besides not wanting to do this, the hour too early for me, and I hadn’t had coffee? Nope.
I was setting up my camera when Precious stepped into the space. She held out a large paper cup that was filled with nectar from the gods.
“Is that coffee?” I took the cup and inhaled the steam coming from the tiny hole in the lid.
She nodded. “I figured it was for the good of the entire event and, particularly, the families that requested photos.” She wore wild, flower-patterned black leggings under a formfitting black tunic and knee-high black boots. Precious was the descendants of Germans. She stood six feet with naturally platinum blond hair. Her personality was big, her breasts even more so. But her heart was ginormous. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail using a black Ponytail Beanie and looked the picture of a successful adult. Put together.
She continued, “And if you find that to not be enough,”—she pointed behind the bookcase — “June’s right behind you.”
I glanced behind the shelves. June and one other teenager staff were serving up drip coffee and scones.
I said to June, “Best part of this whole thing is knowing scones are right behind me.”
She smiled and handed me a mini scone on a napkin. “On the house.”
“You’re a savior,” I told her before shoving the entire treat in my mouth.
My mother cleared her throat, but it didn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “Samantha?”
“I got this, Mrs. True,” Precious told my mom.
She turned to the crowd and explained the procedure for getting their picture taken. They were to put their names on the provided list in numeric order and include their phone numbers and email. I would catalog their names with the coordinating picture frame number. Precious also told them that mistakes were bound to happen so be patient and kind. Precious was a natural leader and organizer.
“Weren’t you wearing this yesterday?” my mother asked. She gave me a pointed look after scanning me up and down.
“At least I’m here,” I pointed out. I gave Cora a tickly hug that made her laugh then turned to the crowd.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, then groaned from annoyance. I’d rather be anywhere but here. Based on the surprised look on the faces of my mom and the families in line, I must have groaned out loud.
Forty minutes into snapping images of several families with plastered-on smiles, I was looking for an excuse to take a break when Principal Josh popped up. Hands in pockets and a toothy smile on his face, he said, “I suppose right on time is still considered on time. I’m a five minutes early guy.” He rubbed my back. “This is a flattering look for you.”
His mannerisms were so weird. Was he reprimanding me? Or flirting?
An appropriate response eluded me.
Principal Josh continued, “It takes a village to raise productive adults, Samantha. We appreciate you doing your part. But remember, you’re a role model and be mindful of the message you’re sending.” He massaged my shoulders.
Reprimanding, I decided. See, here’s the thing. Guilt didn’t work on me unless it was from my parents. I wasn’t wired like most people. Having dyslexia and struggling through school taught me that sometimes other’s expectations were unattainable and that those requirements were on them, not me. Besides, it didn’t hurt to teach kids that, even as an adult, we get flustered or have bad days.
I was about to tell Principal Josh with his Calvin and Hobbes tie, which was super cool, to kiss my heinie I opened my mouth to say something unkind but Principal Josh interrupted.
“Oh, the PTC ladies and I are meeting Tuesday after next at How Ya Bean Coffeeshop. Come by and get pictures.”
The only good thing about being the “school photographer” was the fact that the PCT met at a coffee shop. “I got a fair number of pics from the last meeting.” I signaled for the next family to take their place on the stage.
“More is always
a good thing. Besides, it's important to me you become a part of Team VGS.” He squeezed my shoulder. VGS was Village Garden School, and I’d rather be on a team doing an excursion into hell than to go to another PTC meeting with the snooty moms with their Range Rovers and Hunter boots.
A tall woman with long straight brown hair and blue eyes came up to Principal Josh and cupped his elbow. She was dressed like everyone in the PNW: leggings, a T-shirt, and a long sweater-like jacket over it. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
“Hey,” she said to me then focused on Principal Josh.
He faced her, his smile wide and open. “Hey, babe, you all set to ease parent’s minds?”
She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “Where did you get that water you brought for the run?”
As part of the festival a small 2.5 K kick off at eleven.
He shrugged. “I didn’t have time to run to the store, so I grabbed your stock from the garage.”
She groaned. “That’s part of my”—she lowered her voice — “cache.”
Principal Josh’s smile wavered. “I’ll replace it. Don’t freak out. It’s not like you need it today.”
Babe’s eyes went wide. Freak out might not have been impending, but it was now. Telling someone to not freak out is a stupid thing to do. He was being dismissive, and she was about to let him have it.
I snapped a few pictures, dismissed a family with a wave of my hand and told the next family to take their place. Hoping Babe and Principal Josh would continue their conversation without taking it elsewhere. I was nothing if not curious.
“I’ll decide when to freak out or not. You helping yourself to my stuff without asking feels like I should freak out,” she said vehemently. “Particularly when you have no business being at my place… anymore.”
“It’s just water. It’s not like you can’t get more, and I said I would replace it.” Principal Josh did not sound like he was smiling.
“Kids in front,” I said like I was paying attention to my job and not the drama behind me.
Babe scoffed. “See that you do,” she said. “And anything else you might have helped yourself to.”
