It wasn’t ice cream, homemade or otherwise, and it was delivered by a catering company.A catering company.He’s six years old, for goodness’ sake.I couldn’t hide my incredulity if I tried.
They might as well have sent a bottle of...I don’t know, the most expensive champagne that only rich people drink—or even a crate of it.
“He was so embarrassed, and it didn’t help that the other kids started teasing him about eating boogers.He doesn’t even eat those things himself.”
“Poor kid.Clueless rich parents.Did you call them in for a meeting?”
“I tried to,” I tell Esme.
I haven’t met Jake’s parents yet.He just transferred to my class a week ago, and he fit in from day one.
“The number on file for Jake went to their office, apparently.I had a very strange conversation with the receptionist who answered, but I finally learned they were home, and home happens to be here,” I say, tapping the screen of my laptop.
“I asked if I could make an appointment, and she said if it concerned Jake, I could just drop by, day or night, unannounced.So that’s what I’m going to do.”
I close my laptop, slip it into my handbag, and swing it onto my shoulder.
“Good luck.Give ’em hell.”
“Always,” I say, waving at her.My kids come first, and the Grants won’t be the first parents I’ve set straight.
“Hey, what happened to the food?”Esme calls just before I slip out the door.
“Oh, Melody to the rescue, since none of the kids wanted to try it.She took care of it before lecturing us all about having poor taste; emphasis on poor, I guess.”
Melody Avers is the most unqualified school secretary in existence.Her father bankrupted his hotel business, and if he didn’t know the principal of Valley Bright Elementary, Melody would not have gotten the job.
She’s also declared herself my number one enemy for reasons I don’t know yet but am too busy to care about.
This is also the perfect opportunity to speak to Mr.and Mrs.Grant.Jake is currently at swimming lessons and won’t have any idea I visited his parents.Kids are very sensitive about things like that, and he hasn’t been in my class long enough for us to have built trust.This way, I’ll fix the situation without him knowing, offering an easy solution for the parents: don’t send caviar to school for your six-year-old son’s movie day.
Chapter Two
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Genevieve
