Holly Banks Full of Angst (Village of Primm, #1)(8)

JACK: Holly. Come on.

HOLLY: What?

JACK: You’re the mom.

HOLLY: So?

JACK: So that’s how it’s done. That’s how it’s always been done.

HOLLY: Seriously, Jack?

JACK: What?

HOLLY: Are you really going there?


Heeding Penelope’s call to “get out while you still can,” Holly stood up and began her excuse me, excuse me, excuse me across the kneecaps toward the aisle.

“Whoopsie daisy! ” Mary-Margaret gasped from the podium. “Looks like someone is trying to sneak out of a PTA meeting early. Will someone stop that mom from leaving?” said Mary-Margaret, following up with a polite chuckle and then snapping, “Stop that mom.”

Holly turned. “Me?”

“Yes, you, Team Buttercream.”

Surrounded—not by orange Oompa Loompas but by a sea of seated pink people blinking up at her—Holly felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz after crash-landing in the Village of Primm, insisting she wasn’t a witch at all.

“Oh, no. I don’t play Frisbee.” Holly channeled Dorothy. “I’m not a Frisbee player at all.”

“You can’t leave now,” Mary-Margaret implored. “I’m not through with my announcements.”

“But—the dads just left.” Holly felt her face and neck turn red.

“I know the dads just left. I dismissed them. Moms run the school. Not the dads.” Mary-Margaret shook her head as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “If dads ran the school, nothing would get done. Except, maybe, a barbecue. Or something. Flag football . . .”

Fine.

Holly returned to her seat—excuse me, excuse me, excuse me—then sat and stewed, completely humiliated.

Mary-Margaret said, “Despite my selfless, tireless recruiting over the summer, no one has signed up to serve as secretary of the Primm Academy PTA. I certainly hope it’s not because of what happened to last year’s secretary . . .”

Holly wondered, What happened to last year’s secretary?

“I’m sure she’s perfectly happy in Southern Lakes,” Mary-Margaret added, with just a tinge of pity in her voice. “And don’t let anyone tell you she was banished from the Village of Primm. It wasn’t banishment. It wasn’t! She wasn’t banished. So don’t say banished. Her grass was simply greener on the other side of the fence. That’s all. She wasn’t banished. So don’t say it. Banished. That’s what you don’t want to say. Anyway. Will you be the next Primm Academy PTA secretary?” She pointed to a mom in the crowd and then pointed to another. “Will you?” Pulling the microphone to her lips, she lowered her voice an octave. “Ask not what Primm can do for you. Ask what you can do—”

ZZZPT! From the microphone came a RurrrrRing!

“Whoo! What was that? Can everyone hear me?” Mary-Margaret scratched the top of the microphone. “Oh. Ha! Ha! Okay, it’s still on. Thank you.” She looked to her left. “Where’s Principal Hayes?” She scanned the room. “Did he leave? Is he here? Because this microphone . . . did everyone hear my last announcement? I need a secretary. I need someone by my side, each and every day to help me help you.” She pointed to someone in the front row. “You. With the glitter notebook. What’s your name? You can be my secretary. Do you like glitter? Because I like glitter.”

ZZZPT! RurrrrRing!

“Ahhhhhhhh! Ouch. Gosh. That hurt my ears.” She extended her lower lip to pout. “Can someone help me with this microphone? It doesn’t seem to be working all of a sudden.”

Holly turned to scan the back of the room for a tech person. Was someone messing with her microphone? Being silenced would drive someone like Mary-Margaret nuts: a fate worse than death—or banishment from the village, since that seemed to be a concern around here.

ZZZPT! RurrrrRing!

“Hello?” Tap, tap, tap. “But . . . I don’t understand,” Mary-Margaret whined. “What’s wrong with the microphone?” Tap, tap, tap. “Hello? Are you there, crowd? It’s me, Mary-Margaret.”





4


During the break



A quick break in the New Parent Orientation meant Holly had a chance to slip out and get home to Jack and Ella and relax. Holly held tight to her coffee, slipping deftly through the crowd of moms and toward a side door. She wished she could render herself invisible. She pushed a hip into the exit door’s silver exit bar—weeeoooweeeoooweeeooo!—triggering the alarm.

From across the room came a loud “Stop!” Mary-Margaret rolled onto her tippy-toes and began snapping her fingers.

Weeeoooweeeoooweeeooo!

“Stop that mom!” She rushed through the crowd toward Holly as everyone turned to look. “She’s trying to escape!”

“Escape?” Holly shook her head at a nearby mom. “I’m not trying to escape. Sorry, everyone!” She had to holler to be heard above the alarm. “I didn’t mean to—” She pulled at the exit bar. “I wasn’t trying to—I was just—” Weeeoooweeeoooweeeooo. “I can’t make it stop.”

“Coffee mom!” Mary-Margaret picked up the pace and began running across the auditorium. “You! You with the yellow shirt!” Weeeoooweeeoooweeeooo. She crossed the entire length of the room in seconds flat.