Dumping Billy Read Free

certainly loud,” Dr. McKay complained.
    “From the little I know of it, AAT—airborne animal therapy—can frequently be noisy,” Elliot said, poker-faced, “although it’s having significant measurable success in schools for the gifted, where it’s being pioneered. Of course,” he added, “it might not be right for this setting.” He nodded at Kate. “I’m not the expert,” he said as if he were deferring to Kate’s professional judgment. She smothered a laugh with a cough.
    “We’ll put this off until after three o’clock, Dr. McKay,” she promised.
    “All right, then,” he said primly. He left as suddenly as he had arrived, shutting the door with a firm but controlled click. Kate and Elliot looked at each other, waited for a count of ten, then burst into giggles that they had to stifle.
    “AAT?” Kate gurgled.
    “Hey, straight men love acronyms. Think of the army. He’ll be on the Internet in less than ten minutes, searching for ‘airborne animal therapy,’” Elliot predicted. He stood up and began collecting the stuffed animals. Kate got up to help him. The irony of the situation was that Elliot had helped Kate get hired, and since then George McKay had told several teachers that he suspected them of having an affair. Ridiculous as that idea was, the sight of the two of them in the chair was not one to instill confidence in Dr. McKay, who had frequently announced at teachers’ meetings that he “discouraged fraternizing among professional educational co-workers.”
    When Kate and her “professional educational co-worker” finished laughing, she stood up, smoothed her skirt, and put her hair back up, this time with a barrette she found in her drawer. Elliot was standing still, looking down at the chair. He heaved a dramatic sigh.
    “Oh, shit!” he told her. “You crushed my banana.” He held up the mangled fruit from his lunch bag, which had slipped under them during the battle.
    Kate turned, struck the pose of a femme fatale, and rasped, “How times have changed. You used to like it when I did that.”
    Elliot laughed. “I’ll leave all banana handling to you and Michael.”
    Kate and her new boyfriend, Dr. Michael Atwood, were going to dinner with Elliot and his partner, Brice. It was Elliot’s introduction to Michael, and Kate felt a little flurry in her stomach at the thought. She hoped they liked each other. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late tonight,” she told him.
    “Okay, okay.”
    She grabbed her sweater from the back of her chair and moved toward the door.
    “So you like your work so far,” Elliot said, watching her. As she passed by, Kate nodded. But she kept moving: She knew what was coming. “And even though I helped you get the job, you’re still not going to let me know where you’re going?”
    Kate didn’t bother to answer as she sailed out of the room, Elliot scrambling to hurry after her. Elliot was what people in Brooklyn called “a nudge.”

 
    Chapter Two
    I n all the years Kate had known Elliot—over ten now—he’d always managed to cheer her up when she was sad and support her in her successes. Now, as they walked down the corridor to his classroom, she glanced at him affectionately. The stretched-out orange T-shirt, the ugly green overshirt decorated with mustard, the slight love handles, and the wrinkled chinos didn’t make him look like much, but he had a keen mind and was a loving and generous friend. She felt a swell of gratitude toward him. As always, he had cheered her up and helped her make the break from school.
    Kate was proud of the work she did with these kids. She had learned a lot from them, too. For one thing, the school catered to the children of the rich and successful, but Kate saw that money, privilege, and education brought on as much misery as had her own deprived childhood. She had lost her resentment of those with money, and she was grateful for that. She had not picked her calling for the money it earned; in fact,