Fools Rush in(87)

“Millie! Good morning,” Dr. W. said.

“Hello,” I answered. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, punkin! Doc here and I were just talking about you.” My dad placed a heavy arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.

The door opened, and Katie, looking like a tourism ad for Norway, came in, her face serene and lovely, blond hair swinging in a silken curtain over her shoulders. “Hi, Millie,” she purred. “Hi, everyone.”

I went over to her side. “Why were you yelling at Joe?” I whispered.

“Oh, did you overhear that?” she asked blithely.

“Yes! I certainly did. Why, Katie?”

She smiled. “He asked for it.”

“Did he?” Was anyone so foolish as to ask for the Wrath of Katie?

“Well, he wanted to know if I knew why you broke up with him. So I told him.”

She looked as sated as if she’d just had a night of world-class sex, her cheeks slightly flushed and glowing, her eyes sparkling. “Did you have to enjoy it so much?” I asked.

“That Peter Pan routine is pathetic,” Katie murmured. “High time someone told him.” She sighed contentedly and floated away. I turned around, bumping right into Joe.

“Hi, Joe,” I said, feeling my ears grow hot. “How are you?”

He didn’t look nearly as healthy as Katie. “Fine,” he answered.

“So, um, I guess you’re here for Career Day,” I said, feeling my stomach contract with discomfort.

“Yup.” He continued to stare, unsmiling, a look that was foreign to his usually cheerful face.

“Okay! Well. Um, see you later.” I scurried away like a cockroach. Apparently, Joe hadn’t gotten around to the “no hard feelings” stage. Or he was still shell-shocked from the Katie grenade that had just been launched.

At that moment, the door opened and in came Mrs. Deveau, who’d been principal when I was a student here. “We’re all set, people, if you’ll follow me,” she said. We made our way en masse to the auditorium. A number of my former teachers still taught here, and one or two waved as we passed through the halls.

“Hey, Millie,” Sam said, appearing at my side. “Representing the medical world today, are you?” He looked handsome in his uniform, brawnier with the radio and gun clipped to his belt. Downright…well, actually, quite…

“That’s right. And you’re discussing…what is it again that you do? Dog warden?” My banter was automatic because of the strange, hot…

Sam laughed, and my innards contracted in a warm squeeze. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Actually, most kids ask me about playing football in college.” He smiled at me, his hazel eyes crinkling, and there it was again, that…that…

Okay, okay. Sam was a looker, I knew that. Sure I did. But suddenly, I seemed to be feeling…things. For my sister’s ex-husband. For the father of my nephew. Of course you love Sam, a voice in my head soothed. But only in a platonic way. Right. So why was adrenaline spurting into my bloodstream, urging me to flee? And why did he suddenly seem so…delicious? I shuddered at the mere thought. Sam, delicious? Oh, God, he was!

“Okay,” Mrs. Deveau said. “Why don’t we have you go first, Mr. Barnes, since you’ve done this before. Everyone gets ten minutes, give or take, and then the kids can ask questions. Are we all set?” She didn’t wait for an answer, in typical principal fashion, and led us onto the stage. The kids were already in the auditorium, shuffling and chatting, but they quieted as we filed on and sat in the chairs lined up for us.

I did not feel well. Was I sick? I wished I was! Do not feel this way, Millie. Isn’t life complicated enough? Dr. Whitaker sat on one side of me. Sam sat on the other, his leg brushing mine, causing my nerve endings to leap.

Oh, no. No. No. Sam was off-limits. Do Not Enter. No Trespassing.

My palms grew clammy, and I tried to wipe them discreetly on my skirt. Mrs. Deveau was giving the introduction. A cramp pierced my abdomen. Dr. Whitaker leaned in close to whisper something, but I only dimly heard him over the roar in my ears. “Okay, sure,” I whispered back when it seemed an answer was called for.

Oh, this was bad! My knees were humming and weak with terror, and my pulse must have been at least one hundred and twenty. Maybe more. Breathe deeply, Millie. I obeyed myself, causing Sam to glance at me.

“Nervous?” he whispered with a grin.

Oh, shit. This was not what I needed. This was awful.

“It’s not so bad,” he continued. I could smell his nice Sam smell, soap, starch from his uniform, shaving cream. Oh, please, please—

“…Howard Barnes,” Mrs. Deveau said. Dutiful applause rose from the kids.

“Hi, kids!” my father bellowed. “I’m Danny Nickerson’s grandfather, and I’m the owner of a septic service company…or, as I like to say, the King of Crap.” Warming to his fecund subject, Dad launched into a lurid tale of a pipe erupting during a storm several years ago, causing sewage to flood our fair streets. The kids were hooked.

Concentrate on Dad. My carotid artery throbbed sickly in my neck as I stared straight ahead. God, these lights were hot! Was anyone else hot? My fellow panelists looked composed and relaxed. In the audience, I spotted Danny, sitting next to Bobby Canton. There was Kyle and another boy from the Lighthouse Dance.