Emberleigh turns, grabs a pink bakery box and pops a cream puff into it. I grab for my wallet.
“On the house,” she says.
“Well hello, boys,” Betty Faye Holt says from behind us. “What a treat to run into you two.”
“Hey, Mrs. Holt,” Dustin says to his landlady.
“Now, Dustin, we’re practically family. I told you to call me Gran.”
“I know … Gran.”
The way he says it is like trying on a shirt that’s two sizes too small.
“And how are you these days, Cody?”
“Just fine, ma’am.”
She studies me and I feel like she can see straight through me. I wouldn’t be surprised if some part of my face told her I was cozied up with Carli in the front of my truck a few nights ago. I glance away and shift lightly on my feet.
“Mm hmm. I’ll say,” she says, confirming my worstnightmares. Not that she actually knows. But the seniors around here have honed their ability to read people like it’s a science and they’re up for the Nobel prize.
“We’d better get going,” I tell Mrs. Holt.
“Off to Waterford Elementary?” she asks.
“Yep,” Dustin says without flinching. “Local Hero Day.”
“Don’t forget the cookies!” Emberleigh says, ducking into the back of the bakery and emerging with two large rectangular bakery boxes.
“We’re bringing cookies?” I ask Dustin.
“Yeah. We’ve got to show up the policemen. They’ll come empty-handed.”
Dustin leans across the counter near the cash register and gives Emberleigh a quick kiss goodbye. Then we’re on our way to the school.
We pull into the school parking lot and park in the fire lane so we’re positioned for the kids to explore the truck at the end of our visit.
The cafeteria is buzzing with volunteers, administration and a few teachers’ aides. Student volunteers are introduced, we’re all given visitors badges, and then we’re escorted to our classrooms.
“They’re very excited,” the assistant principal tells us as we walk down the hallway.
I can’t quite read her expression, but I’ve experienced excited elementary students before. They’re a force to be reckoned with.
As soon as the classroom door swings open, the kids, who are all sitting cross-legged on carpet squares on the other side of the room, start cheering.
“They’re here!”
“We got the firemen!”
“Look! It’s Dustin!”
Yeah. I don’t take that one personally.
“Hey, kids!” Dustin says, waving.
“Hi, Mister Fireman!” one boy shouts.
Another child corrects him. “That’s Dustin and Cody.”
