“Chatsworth-by-the-Sea,” Carly said. “May I help you?”
“I would like to speak with Carly Spencer please.”
“That’s me.”
“Mrs. Spencer, this is Mrs. Beecham, the vice principal. I have Tiffany in my office.”
“What?” Carly’s stomach flopped over and dove for her toes. No. This wasn’t happening.
“I’m sorry to inform you that your daughter has been cutting class. Is it possible for you to come to the school anytime soon?”
Carly had already logged out of her program. “I’ll be right there.”
It had only been three weeks, Carly thought grimly as she parked on the street, then hurried in the main entrance. Three weeks. Tiffany had never once gotten in this kind of trouble at her old school.
Worse, Carly had thought things had been improving with her daughter. Tiffany had made a couple of friends, including a girl who had stayed for dinner a couple of nights ago. There was even a boy she liked—Jack something. She mentioned meeting him in the computer lab and how she hoped he liked her. So why this?
Carly followed the familiar halls to the vice principal’s office and went inside. Tiffany sat on a bench outside a closed door. She rose when she saw her mother.
“You didn’t bring Grandma,” she said, sounding both scared and relieved.
“No. I didn’t tell her.” Carly hadn’t wanted to hear the lecture. “I’ll explain things to her after I understand them myself.”
Tiffany grabbed her arm. “It’s not what you think. It’s not bad. I didn’t do anything wrong. Well, not bad-wrong. Mom, I can explain. It’s not my fault.”
“How many times have I heard that sentence before?”
“But it’s true.”
The door opened and Mrs. Beecham stepped out.
The woman was in her early thirties, attractive and well dressed. Not exactly the dried-up old prune Carly remembered from her days at the school. Apparently administrators had changed in the past twenty-two years. But the rules hadn’t, and if Tiffany was cutting class, there was going to be hell to pay both here and at home.
“Mrs. Spencer?” the vice principal asked with a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, although I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”
“Me, too,” Carly said as they shook hands.
Tiffany tightened her grip on her arm. “Mom, I’m really, really telling the truth. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Why don’t you let us discuss it?” Mrs. Beecham said pleasantly. “Would you prefer your daughter in with us or would you like to have her wait out here?”
Tiffany’s blue eyes pleaded for admission to the meeting. Carly hesitated. The situation was a new one. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. Tiffany had acted up before, but she’d never done it at school. Skipping classes? Was it possible.
“She can join us,” she said, not sure if she was making the right decision.
“Thanks.” Tiffany moved close. “I can explain everything.”
Mrs. Beecham frowned. “You’ll have to be quiet if you’re to sit with us,” she said sternly. “Do I make myself clear?”
Tiffany shivered slightly and nodded.
Carly followed the vice principal into her bright and cheerful office and took one of the two chairs on the visitor side of the desk. Several plaques hung on the wall, honoring the school for academic achievement. There were mentions of the various universities Mrs. Beecham had attended and Carly was a little surprised to see her first name was Heather. Somehow women named Heather had never been so authoritarian before. At least not in her world.
“Tiffany has missed her class after lunch twice this week,” Mrs. Beecham said. “I can see by her transcripts that she was never in this sort of trouble before, which is why I wanted to have you in, Mrs. Spencer. We don’t want to start a negative pattern here in Tiffany’s new school.”
“I don’t get it,” Carly said, turning to her daughter. “You’re cutting class after lunch? What’s going on? Are you leaving campus?”
“That’s not permitted until one is a senior,” Mrs. Beecham said quietly.
Tiffany ignored her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been working in the computer lab. On stuff for the B and B. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I was working on the computer doing graphic designs. I lost track of time and didn’t realize I should be in class. I messed up and I was late. But here, if you’re more than ten minutes late, it counts as an unexcused absence. Which means they’re saying I cut class, but I was really there.”
Carly turned to Mrs. Beecham. “Is that true? Is more than a ten-minute tardy an unexcused absence?”
The other woman nodded. “It may seem harsh, but we want to make sure the students are in class, learning. People strolling in ten or fifteen minutes after the bell disrupts the class for everyone.”
Carly saw her point—sort of. But if a kid was late to class, it seemed wrong to tag her with cutting school.
“I’ll make sure Tiffany understands it’s important to be in class on time,” Carly said. “What is her punishment?”
“Two days of detention.”
Tiffany gasped. Before she could say anything, Carly shot her a warning look.
“All right. Thanks, Mrs. Beecham. I assume you have some system in place so that Tiffany can get back to class without being marked down for truancy?”
“Of course. I’ll write her a pass.”
“Great. If I could have a minute to speak with her in the hall, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Of course.”
“But I—”
Tiffany started to speak. Carly grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“We’ll be right outside,” she said. “I’ll send her in to get the note.”
“Good. Thank you so much for coming right away. I feel it’s very important to nip this sort of thing in the bud.”
“Of course. Sure. Have a nice day.”
Carly led Tiffany into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
“It’s not fair,” Tiffany wailed. “I can’t believe this is happening because I was late.”
Carly found herself wanting to agree, yet unwilling to side with her daughter against the vice principal.
“I don’t necessarily agree with the rules, but it’s good to know what they are so you can avoid getting into trouble the next time.”
“But I was doing stuff for you.”
Carly put an arm around her. “I know, and I really appreciate it. But I’m thinking maybe it’s time to spend your lunch hour doing something else. Trust me—you don’t want a career of detention.”
“I can’t believe she’s making me do that. I’m not some loser.”
“Agreed, but it could be worse. It could be three days.”
Her daughter grimaced. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose. You know that, right?”
“I do. I’ve seen how engrossed you get in your work. I believe that you didn’t hear the bell.”
Tiffany looked relieved. “Thanks, Mom. This was all so horrible. She called me out of class and everything. Talk about total humiliation. I thought I’d just die.”
Just then a tall, skinny guy with short brown hair and shoulders broad enough to support the world rounded the corner. He jogged toward them.
“Tiff. Jeez, I’m really sorry.” He noticed Carly and skidded to a stop. “Oh, hi. Are you Tiffany’s mom?”
“Yes. Carly Spencer.”
“Hey. I’m Jack. I’ve been hanging out with Tiffany in the computer lab. This is totally my fault. I have the computer lab right after lunch so I’ve learned to tune out the bells. I should have been paying attention and made sure she got back to class on time.”
So this was Jack—the boy Tiffany had been talking about. He was charming, in a puppy-dog kind of way. Carly liked how he took responsibility—something her daughter could learn to do.
“I’ve been helping her with the graphic designs,” he continued.
“She’s really talented.”
Tiffany stared at the floor and blushed. “No, you are,” she mumbled. “Jack’s come up with some great ideas for colors.”
He shrugged. “I’m really interested in the house, Mrs. Spencer. I’ve heard about it for years, but I’ve never been. The ghost thing. Totally cool. I’ve been doing some research on ghosts and paranormal phenomenon. I’ve even bought some equipment, you know, to help find it.”
Tiffany looked at him. “My mom’s seen the ghost.”
“For real?”
“Not recently,” Carly said. “That was years ago. You should come out and look around.”
His face brightened. He glanced at Tiffany and seemed to almost glow. “Thank you for asking. I’d like that very much. Look, um, I have to get back to class. I just wanted to let you know that it wasn’t Tiffany’s fault.”
He smiled at her, winked at her daughter, then loped away.
Carly watched him go. Okay, he was a good kid with decent manners. She liked that and she liked him. Of course saying that was a really bad idea.
“He’s older, isn’t he?” she asked instead.
“Just by a year. He’s sixteen.” Tiffany sighed. “He has his license. Do you think he likes me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure about him, though.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “You don’t like anyone I like. So why did you invite him over?”
“So I can keep an eye on him and you.”
“I hate my life.”
“I’m sure you do. Look, go get your note from Mrs. Beecham and head to class. I’ll be by after your detention to pick you up.”
Tiffany nodded, but before she turned away, she asked, “What’s my punishment at home?”
Carly almost asked “For what?” when she remembered the tardiness. She weighed the options and decided to go with her gut.
“You’ve never done this before,” she said. “I think there are extenuating circumstances. Your detention is enough.”
Tiffany’s whole face brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Her daughter flung her arms around her and hugged her hard. “You’re the best, Mom.”
“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”
Carly had barely taken two steps when she saw Mr. Everwood, aka Steve, approaching.
“We meet again,” he said, looking handsome in a math-teacher sort of way. “I heard about Tiffany. I think the tardy rule takes things a little too far, but I don’t make the rules.”
“Me, either. But it’s handled.”
“How are you settling in?”
“Getting there. I’m working hard at the B and B. It’s fun, but challenging.”
“I heard there were some changes.”
“That’s true.”
“I’d love to hear the details. How about over dinner?”
The man was too smooth by far, Carly thought.
“I, uh, dinner.” With Mr. Everwood? Could she really do that? “Um, sure. Great.”
“I’ll give you a call.”
She nodded and started backing toward the main entrance. “I know you know the number. Thanks. I, uh, I have to get back to work. Good to see you.”
“You, too, Carly.”
She turned to bolt, but before she could get up any speed, he called her back.
“How are we doing on the whole ‘calling me by my first name’ thing?” he asked with a grin.
“It’s much better.”
“You’re lying.”
“Okay. I’m working on it.”
“Keep practicing.”
Carly watched her mother debate which side to come down on. Tiffany shouldn’t be late to class, but this was her beloved granddaughter and she had been working to help the B and B.
“You’ve spoken with her?” Rhonda asked.
“Yes, and she has detention for two days. That should be unpleasant enough to remind her to get back in class on time.”
“Are you punishing her?”
Carly debated how to handle the situation. Right now she couldn’t face another run-in with her mother on how to raise Tiffany.
“I was going to,” she said carefully. “But then I remembered what you always said—that the punishment should fit the crime. As Tiffany wasn’t trying to skip class and get away with anything, I think the detention is enough.”
Rhonda considered the answer, then nodded. “I agree. She’s basically a sweet girl. With a little more direction and parenting, she’ll grow up into a fine young woman.”
Carly clenched her teeth, then did her best to relax. Remember the bigger picture, she told herself. Better to keep things pleasant in the family, at least during all the changes in the B and B.
Besides, she knew one sure way to make her mother forget all about Tiffany.
“I ran into Steve Everwood while I was at the high school,” she said as she poured them each a glass of lemonade. “I think he’s going to call and ask me out to dinner.”
Rhonda’s shock was priceless. Carly wasn’t sure if her mother was surprised that a man would be interested or that Carly would talk about it.
“Well, good for you,” Rhonda said as she took a glass. “He’s supposed to be very nice. He has a steady job and everyone says he was good to his late wife. You knew he was a widower, didn’t you? He’s not divorced. I’ve heard he does what he can to get women in bed and then he dumps them, but I doubt you’ll have a problem with that.”
There was so much information in her mother’s short speech, Carly didn’t know what to respond to first. Was her mother implying she wouldn’t have a problem with Steve’s amorous nature because he wasn’t likely to be interested in her that way, or because she was such a slut that she could easily handle it? And what was up with making a point of him being a widower rather than divorced?
Well, at least she had the distraction she’d wanted.
“I’m not sure if I want to go out with him,” Carly said. “He was my teacher in high school. That makes the whole thing kind of weird.”
“That was nearly twenty-five years ago. What does it matter now?”
Technically not yet twenty-two years, Carly thought.
“Besides, you’ll be forty soon,” her mother added. “You’d better accept any invitations that come your way.”
“Before I’m too old,” Carly said, not sure if she should laugh or scream.
“Exactly. You could do worse than him.”
“Good to know.” How thrilling that she had yet to hit bottom.
CHAPTER 7
“This is all your fault,” Rhonda complained loudly.
At least that’s what Carly thought she was saying. She’d never been very good at reading lips and it was impossible to hear actual words over the whine of twenty or thirty remote-control model airplanes swooping and soaring off the cliffs.
The sound was incredible—part chainsaw, part lawnmower, but at a pitch designed to send onlookers into madness.
She motioned for her mother to follow her back into the B and B where they could speak in relatively normal tones.
“What was that?” she asked when she’d closed the door behind them.
Her mother glared at her. “I blame you for that. The noise is horrible. How long are they here for?”
“Three nights.” Carly did her best not to look too happy, but in truth, she was giddy with delight. “Three whole nights with the B and B full and local restaurants catering the meals. We get a cut of that, you know. A smooth fifteen percent off the top.”
“I don’t like it. I already have a headache.”
Carly did, too, but she figured it was a small price to pay for wild success.
Okay, maybe not wild success, but a really big step in the right direction.
“We’re lucky to have them,” she said. “Their usual hotel had a lot of damage after last winter’s storms so they were looking for a place. We have everything they want, including the cliffs where they can fly their planes. The
y’re just one chapter of a fairly large national organization. We could have clubs like this here all the time.”
Her mother stared at her. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is. Just think of the money. Plus, I’ve been able to put together some special activities on a small scale. We have that lecturer coming in tonight to talk about the history of the house. That should be fun. If he’s any good, I’ll book him regularly.”
Maribel had turned her on to a professor at the community college who had done a lot of research on Chatsworth-by-the-Sea and was considered the resident expert on the ghost.
Carly was looking forward to attending the lecture herself and maybe learning something. Like where Mary had been hiding out all these weeks.
She walked into the main office and pointed to the booking schedule posted on the far wall.
“We’re booking up faster than I thought we would. Those ghost hunters are here next weekend. We still have the horror writers coming and there’s a group that researches paranormal phenomenon coming at the end of the month. I’ve already received calls from three former guests who are interested in reserving rooms. They said the drive was longer than they liked for a weekend, but it was worth it for a chance to hang with a ghost.”
Her mother studied the chart. “We’re starting to fill up.”
“I know. It’s fabulous. If things keep going like this, we might break even for the month of August.”
“So soon?”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s just one month, but we’re moving in the right direction. I want to do some more brainstorming. I was thinking of a Regency-themed weekend. We could hold cooking classes and learn the dances from the time.”
“You’re certainly pushing our ghost.”
“She’s the best selling point we have. Without her, I couldn’t make this work.”
Her mother shook her head. “People are so silly about ghosts.”
“As long as those people are interested in booking rooms, I don’t care how silly they are.”
There's Always Plan B Page 8
