Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(27)

Nothing.

Holly banged again. Bang, bang, bang!

Door opened. A thin elderly bus driver peered down at Holly. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” said Holly, out of breath, signaling for Ella to join her. “My daughter needs a ride to school.” Panting. “To Primm Academy. You forgot us.”

He looked beyond Holly’s shoulder. “Where’d you come from?”

“Petunia.”

“This is Dillydally and Castle Drum Tower.”

“Yes, I know, but you drove past my house. I was in the grass, waving my arms and yelling for you. Please? Can you please take my daughter to school?”

Loud enough for Holly to hear, as Ella arrived to grab hold of Holly’s leg, one of the bus stop moms remarked, “I don’t think you can board your child from anywhere in town. I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”

“Oh, hush up,” Holly snapped, placing an arm on Ella’s shoulder. Probably a crafty, overachieving Dillydally mom. Collette type. Always burning up social media with photos of their perfect world. Holly had seen a wallpapered bookshelf with parchment-covered books just last night. Who does that? To the bus driver: “Please? It’s her first day of kindergarten.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But what you’re doing is very dangerous.” In Holly’s face, with little Ella by her side, he snapped the door closed, leaving them high and dry on the street. Traffic light turned green, and off he went. Dang it!

“Do you need a ride?” a mom offered. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

Holly turned, and sure enough, the offer had come from Collette. Perfect Pinterest Collette.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Our car is right over there.” Holly pointed. “But thank you. I, um . . . I lost track of time this morning because I was busy making a bulletin board for my family.” Lie. “Upholstery nails, burlap, black silk ribbons.” What am I saying? “I had trouble stretching the burlap across the canvas.” Total lie. All of it. A total lie.

“Mom?” Ella tugged at Holly.

“Shhh, not now, sweetie.”

Ella, holding fast to Holly’s arm, was shaking. Holly didn’t know if she was tired from running or shaking because she was scared of being so close to so many moving cars. Whoops. My car! It’s blocking traffic. “Gotta go! Come on, Ella.” Holly scooped Ella into her arms and ran with her toward their SUV as the cars in line behind their Suburban began honking. “Thanks anyway, Collette. Stop in sometime for a cup of tea!” Cup of tea? What was she saying? She hardly knew Collette.

They ran to the car, hopped inside, got buckled, and then drove down Village La-La, past the shops, past the bookstore, past the World of Primm and Drunken Plaid, and past Primm’s Coffee Joe, where a musician they’d met the day they went to the Topiary Park sat outside playing his guitar. Gary-Gee! That’s his name.

When they pulled into the grand cobblestone circular drive in front of Primm Academy, Ella’s bus—Bus 13—was parked right in front of them.

“Yes! We made it.” Holly clapped. Triumphant, she turned to face Ella in the back seat. “Woot! Woot! We did it, Ella. We made it.”

Couldn’t be more perfect. Now Ella could slip into the line and walk into the school with her bus mates—pretending she caught the bus on Petunia Lane. Pretending none of this ever happened.

“I don’t want to go to school,” Ella said, all wide eyed and frightened. “And who’s that lady?”

A woman dressed in school colors, probably a teacher’s assistant charged with working drop-off, walked toward their car, smiling and waving with gusto. Holly gave her the once-over. She seemed nice. White blouse with short capped sleeves exposing long, thin arms. Tailored black pants with a stylish gold belt that looked like a wide ribbon tied just above her right hip. From this distance, Holly could almost make out the shimmer of a honeybee hanging from a pearl necklace.

“She looks scary.” Ella fidgeted.

“Scary? No way. She’s wearing low-flat shoes. She’s harmless.”

“What if she’s mean?”

What if she’s mean? Is that what Ella is afraid of? Oh gosh, what if Ella gets inside and her kindergarten teacher is mean? God doesn’t make mean kindergarten teachers, does he?

On the way to their car, the smiling woman passed a matching set of topiaries flanking the school gates.

“Ella, trust me. This woman is not mean.”

“How do you know?”

Holly pointed at the woman’s head. “She’s wearing a headband.”

“So?”

“So you’ve got nothing to worry about. Only nice people wear headbands.”

Holly stared at Ella. Ella stared back.

“Is that true?” Ella asked. “Only nice people wear headbands?”

“Totally true.”

As the woman with the headband opened Ella’s car door, the look on Ella’s face confirmed Holly’s worst fear: Ella was petrified.

“I love you, Ella. You’re going to have so much fun and meet lots of new friends.” Holly plastered a golly-gee smile on her face as she watched Ella’s face morph into sheer panic. “It’s okay, Ella. Kindergarten is fun! If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands.” Clap. Clap. Ella looked miserable. “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands. If you’re . . .” Holly wanted to cry.