Underneath It All (Storm Series) Read Free Page B

soon. Maybe we can read something about dinosaurs or race cars.” Ms. Rossa had turned back by then, and he skewered her with a withering look, but she smiled sweetly.
    Yeah, saccharine sweet .
    “ Class, thank Mr. D’Amico for coming in today.”
    “Thank you,” they chorused .
    Do they actually practice to get that kind of harmony?
    Rob set the book on Ms. Rossa’s desk and stood, idly scanning the room. Since he’d walked in, he’d felt like something was out of place since. Though Ms. Rossa had obviously tried to make the room look cheery with construction paper letters taped up around the room and some other cheap decorations, the walls were painted four different, hideous colors. There was an old-fashioned radiator heater running along only one side, which probably meant that area was like a furnace while the opposite side ran to cold.
    Nowhere did Rob see a cache of toys or art supplies or really much of anything like he would expect in a kindergarten classroom. He swallowed thickly. Sure, this was inner-city Buffalo, but still. The students were awesome and deserved better than getting the shaft like this just because of where they lived.
    Ms. Rossa led him out. “Thank you for doing that. The kids enjoyed themselves.”
    “You’re welcome. I tried to be as diplomatic as I could with the questions, but I thought it would be rude to ignore the kids.”
    “ Yes, I suppose,” she answered, and Rob understood what people meant when they mentioned pursed lips. It was as if Ms. Rossa was sucking on a lemon. “Especially since you started the conversation.”
    Don’t hurt yourself agreeing with me. She’d also not-so-subtly reminded Rob that she’d ordered him not to talk to the kids. In an effort to remain diplomatic, he changed the subject. “I think they gave you a list of dates and times I’d be here?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Okay then.” With nothing wittier to add, he continued, “I’ll see you next week.”
    Totally lame , dude.
    “Bye.” She turned and went back inside the classroom.
    Well, I guess I’m dismissed.
    After he got back in his truck, he called Sebastian. “Hey, are you with Sarah? Can you put me on speaker?”
    “Sure, man. Everything okay?”
    “Yeah, yeah. I want to run something by her. You can stay too. Actually, I could definitely use your opinion, since your mom’s a teacher.”
    “Hi , Rob,” Sarah said.
    “Hi , Sarah.” He took a deep breath, not sure of how to ask what he wanted to know. “I went over to that school to read to the kids today.”
    “Good for you,” Sarah answered.
    “I liked the reading. Little kids are fun. Anyway, while I was in the school I saw how…” God, how do I put this? “Desolate their classroom looked. I mean, the teacher had stuff up on the walls she’d clearly made herself, but all the things you’d normally see in a kindergarten classroom weren’t there. No toys, no art stuff, no big shelves crammed with books. Just, I dunno, nothing. Pretty sad. I was surprised to see that. I never saw a classroom in Canada that was so ill-equipped.”
    Sebastian spoke up. “ They fund schools here differently, right?”
    “Yes. I think there’s less subsidizing by the government,” Sarah explained.
    “So if the school is here in the city,” Sebastian said, “they probably do not have much money to buy those things. The city of Buffalo is not doing well in some areas. I’ve been reading about the situation in the paper.”
    S ince he was French-Canadian and had been raised in a non-English speaking house, Sebastian read every Sunday paper cover to cover in an attempt to learn better English. He’d been doing it for years.
    Rob blew out a breath. “I know, but I feel bad. There I was with my two-hundred-dollar jeans and my Rolex and the kids were coloring with stumps for crayons.”
    “You can’t feel bad about having money, Rob,” Sarah argued. “ It’s not your fault you do and they don’t. I know it’s hard not to feel