Plotting at the PTA Read Free Page A

solution. My parents want to spend time with Jenna and Oliver, correct?”
    He always did this. Forcing agreement was one of his favorite management tools. Two and a half years distant from our former marriage, it still annoyed me. “We don’t need to build a consensus here, Richard. What’s your solution?”
    He changed tactics. “My parents have been looking forward to this visit for months. The kids are looking forward to going.”
    My former in-laws were kind and considerate people. They were also the stiff-upper-lip type and about as likely to step out of their comfortable upper-middle-class box as Marina was likely to start wearing pearls and twinsets. But they loved their grandchildren very much and the kids loved their times in Arizona.
    “I can’t make the trip,” Richard continued, “so I want you to consider going to Arizona in my stead.”
    “You . . . what?”
    “It won’t cost you a single dollar,” Richard said. “I’ll take care of the airfare and my dad will pick you up at the airport. No need to rent a car.”
    Trust Richard to have the details worked out in advance. And he was doing a good job of selling the idea. But then he made a major error. He said, “You’ll have a wonderful time.”
    No, I wouldn’t. I’d be bored to tears. His parents were nice people, but our overlapping interests began and ended with the kids. I grew instantly sleepy when they began describing their latest golf game, and their eyes glazed over when I started talking about the latest Caldecott winner.
    “So I take it you agree?” Richard asked.
    Off in the distance I could feel my future twisting around. Richard would say that Lois and Yvonne, my two full-time employees, could do without me for a week. I had orders to place, accounting to battle against, and my regular round of book deliveries to make. But I deserved a week off, he’d say. Why not take advantage of his generous offer?
    “No,” I’d said, and felt the clouds around my head start to clear. “No, I don’t agree.” It felt so good to say so that I’d said it one more time. “I don’t agree at all.”
    “You have another plan?” He’d spoken calmly, but I could hear the irritation growing in the back of his voice. “A plan which will deprive the children of time spent with their grandparents? With their grandmother, who loves them unreservedly?”
    “Not at all.” If he heard my smile, all the better. “They have two grandmothers, don’t they? I’ll take them up north.”
    Now I pulled into our driveway and saw our house, all safe and sound, and let myself relax. Going away was all well and good, but coming home was even better.
    I shuffled the mostly asleep kids inside to bed, tried but failed to pet the cat, who’d stayed home and been taken care of by a neighbor, then started heaving the luggage out of the trunk. Tomorrow was Sunday and laundry day, we had to pick up our dog, Spot, from the kennel, and I’d have to do some grocery shopping. I sighed. Being gone was a lot of work. Still, it had been a wonderful week and I was glad I’d stood up to Richard. I considered the thought that if I’d starting doing that twenty years ago we might still be married.
    Considered it briefly, then tossed it aside. If anything, my growing a backbone would have hastened the divorce. And if I’d grown one early enough, there might not have been Jenna or Oliver.
    No, things were working out, in a general sort of way. If only I knew what to do about—
    My phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse, poked at the ON button, and put it against my ear while I extracted Oliver’s stuffed animals from the car. “Hello?”
    “Hey, sweetheart. Are you home?”
    Evan. If only I knew what to do about Evan.

Chapter 2
    T he next morning—Easter morning—I was out of bed by eight and shepherding the kids into Sunday school almost on time. I scurried into the choir room and was donning my maroon robe when the director started warm-ups. I slid into my