Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(63)

“Stick with me,” Shanequa said. “This is my third year. The trick is to stay focused and stay on task so you don’t slow the line. If you think you can’t finish, they’ll suggest you complete the page at home so the line doesn’t bottleneck at one of the projects. Don’t take offense if that happens. Just know that the volunteers are here to hand out supplies and help with pacing so the lines move smoothly. It’s nothing personal.”

Starting at the “entry” end of the kindergarten table, Holly worked her way in single-file fashion through designated “scrapbook stations” that featured a sample scrapbook page so you could see what the page would look like when it was finished. A parent volunteer handed Holly a small bundle containing all the supplies she needed to complete that particular page. If Holly wanted to skip that station and move to the next one, she could take the bundle of supplies home with her because there was a set of clearly written instructions inside each bundle. Holly glanced at the first set of instructions. Clearly, some moms could skip the entire event and simply pay the thirty-six dollars and complete everything at home in their free time. The Primm Paper bag Katie had handed Holly at the door became Holly’s new best friend. It contained all Holly’s treasures, and she was careful to protect it.

Probably the coolest part of the entire evening was the care that was taken to design the scrapbook pages. Thirteen teams of Scrapbooking Moms—one team for each grade—had met with the teachers in that grade to generate a list of the major school events happening over the coming school year. Three of the twelve scrapbooking pages at each table were designed to have a nonspecific, “general” theme, but nine of the twelve scrapbooking pages were created to specifically highlight a particular grade-level event. So Holly would leave tonight with twelve scrapbook pages for Ella’s kindergarten year. All Holly would have to do was add photos to the designated location on each page once Ella attended that event. Presto! Scrapbooking made efficient.

“I’m so excited,” Holly kept telling Shanequa. “I can’t believe I’m going to have Ella’s entire kindergarten year scrapbooked in one night. This is amazing!”

And so worth the thirty-six dollars—even if money was tight. Holly didn’t care that she was copying the sample scrapbook pages—this was way better than anything she could create on her own, especially since she’d never scrapbooked. Holly felt a tad bit better about Ella starting kindergarten. She felt like she was commemorating Ella’s life, slowing things down a bit. And right now, for Holly, that was huge.

Every few steps, she took a peek into her Primm Paper bag to admire her work. But her stomach was getting progressively worse. Holly was thrilled to have met Shanequa (a new friend!) and thrilled Shanequa’s daughter Talia was in Ella’s class. Maybe Talia would invite Ella over for a playdate sometime. Actually, thought Holly, maybe I should invite Shanequa over for coffee while the girls are in school. Now there’s an idea! Yes, I’m going to do that. Just as soon as I finish unpacking, remove the bedsheet from the living room window, and hang some real curtains.

About halfway through the line, after Holly had completed about six scrapbooking pages (with Shanequa’s help), she started to feel nauseated. Really nauseated.

“Are you okay?” Shanequa asked.

“Um, actually, no. I think I should sit down.” Any over-the-counter medicines Holly took earlier had completely worn off. She needed to go home, but first, she wanted to get through this line.

“Drink some water.” Shanequa offered a bottle of water from her tote bag.

“No, no . . . I’m good.” The Gatorade Holly drank in the parking lot sat on her stomach like a puddle of yuckity. She leaned onto the table for a second to rest, closing her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Shanequa asked. “Because you don’t look so good.”

“I ate a batch of bad cookies. I think it might be food poisoning.” One of those E diseases Mary-Margaret mentioned in one of her phone messages.

I’m going to throw up. It’s coming. I can feel it.

“Maybe I should go home.” Holly surveyed the scene, wondering how she’d ever get out of the line she was trapped in. There were at least twenty moms in front of her and twenty moms behind her with long cafeteria tables flanking either side of them.

Shanequa signaled a nearby volunteer. “Excuse me. Would you mind collecting the next six scrapbooking bundles for this mom? She’s not feeling well and needs to go home right away.”

“Thanks, Shanequa.” Holly was a bit embarrassed but had to kneel down for just a bit because the pain in her stomach was so intense. She lowered herself to a squatting position between the tables.

The moms in front of her noticed what was happening, so one of them started snapping her fingers above her head. “Excuse me? Excuse me.” She signaled the moms in front of her. “Everyone needs to move. Move. Lean over the tables so this mom can get through.”

“Can you walk?” Shanequa asked.

“I think so,” Holly mustered, trying to uncramp her body. Freaking Mary-Margaret. I’m so pissed.

And then she heard it: “Yoo-hoo! Oh, noooooo! What is it, Lavender? What’s wrong?” It was Mary-Margaret, the Pink Witch. She was seven people ahead of Holly in the kindergarten line, and she’d just taken notice that it was Holly who needed to leave in a hurry.