Want to Know a Secret? (61)

Three bubbles appear on the screen for a few seconds before I see Riley’s response. I miss you.

I suck in a breath. I quickly delete the text messages, then smile over at April. “You ready to go in?”

“Yes, let’s go!”

I recognize Heidi at the front desk from when I picked up the applications for me and April. She flashes me a tight-lipped smile that gets on my nerves. You would think a preschool would have somebody friendlier at the front desk, not this sour-faced woman.

“Hello!” April says. “My name is April. I was hoping to drop off my application for the preschool.”

And then I see a genuine smile from Heidi. “Of course! Hand it right here!”

April beams. “You must be Heidi. I think we talked on the phone.”

“Yes! We did!”

And then April spends the next several minutes charming Heidi. I’m impressed and even a little jealous. How is she so good at that? God, I hope it helps.

We finally walk back outside together, sans applications. I start to walk to April’s car, but then she puts her hand on my arm. “No,” she says. “Wait.”

After a few minutes, a car pulls up in front of the preschool. A woman with a three-year-old strapped into the back of the car as well as a newborn comes out of the car, looking overwhelmed at the idea of getting both of her kids free. But before she can attempt it, April approaches her.

“Hi!” April says. “You can drop your application off right here! I can take that for you.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” The woman gratefully plops the application into April’s waiting hands. “Getting the kids out of the car is such a hassle. “

“Believe me, I know!” April says.

And then as the woman drives away, April winks at me.

What the…?

And then she does it again. And again. We stand there for another twenty minutes and accept a dozen more applications. I know I should stop her from doing this, but I can’t. I just keep watching her in fascination. She’s so sweet. She even handed one of the women a tissue to wipe up some drool on her baby’s face.

Then when we each have a stack almost too heavy to carry, she motions to me and we walk back to her car. She tosses her applications in the back and nods for me to do the same.

“April,” I say. “What are you doing?”

She winks again. “Improving our odds.”

“Yes, but…” I look up at the preschool, then at all the applications littering the backseat of April’s SUV. “This isn’t right. We should bring them to the school. Everyone should get a fair shot.”

That makes her throw back her head and laugh. “Come on. Let’s go get some coffee.”

We go get a cup of coffee. But not before April stops at a dumpster and throws all the applications inside.





Chapter 38


ONE YEAR EARLIER



“Do you want to hear some incredible gossip?” Kathy Tanner asks.

I hate myself for how excited I am about this. A piece of good gossip? That’s the highlight of my week. This is what my life has become. It is ten o’clock on a weekday morning, and I’ve been sitting in Kathy’s kitchen for the last fifteen minutes, drinking coffee and complaining about having stepped in a pile of dog crap right outside her house.

(Although honestly, what sort of psychopath lets their dog crap right on the sidewalk and then doesn’t clean it up? We live in a society, for God’s sake!)

“Of course,” I say.

Kathy flashes me an evil grin. “Are you sure? It’s about your BFF April.”

It doesn’t surprise me that the gossip is about April. People love to gossip about April, maybe because she’s the closest thing we’ve got to a celebrity in this town, thanks to her little YouTube show. It isn’t even that popular, which goes to show how little we have to talk about.

Also, Kathy doesn’t like April. It’s not entirely clear why, but it likely has something to do with the way her husband Mark is always flirting with April and staring at her breasts. To be fair, my husband always stares at April’s breasts too. Yet somehow it doesn’t bother me as much.

“Tell me,” I say.

Kathy giggles. “Okay, this is a good one. So you know how April sometimes talks about how she went to culinary school, but she decided it wasn’t for her?”

“Yes…”

“Well,” she lowers her voice, “I heard from a very reputable source that April did not leave culinary school voluntarily. She was kicked out.”

I clasp a hand over my mouth. “No…”

“Yes!” Kathy squeals. “And this is the best part. It’s because she was having an affair with one of her professors!”

I take a sip of my coffee, letting this little detail percolate in the back of my head. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that much. It seems like the sort of trouble April might get herself into. Maybe not now, but when she was younger.

Or maybe now. Hard to say.

“God, I can’t wait to tell everyone,” Kathy muses. “April acts like she’s such a big deal. This will totally put her in her place.”

I pick up my spoon and stir my coffee, even though it’s black. When I worked at the DA’s office, I got into the habit of drinking a cup of bitter black coffee every morning to wake me up, even though I hate the taste. And now I can’t break that habit. “Maybe you shouldn’t go around telling everyone.”