The thought of anyone encroaching on my art classes makes my stomach hollow.
“You’re the one who needs the help.”
Benny said that during our big budget debate, back when I was nine weeks postpartum and convinced I could do everything on two hours of sleep and sheer will. I was livid, confident he was micromanaging me and stealing my responsibilities before I even started my new job. But hindsight is cruel and clear. He was right. I was a hyper-emotional postpartum tornado who needed help. And I needed rest.
“Emma.” Ellie nudges me, pulling me back to reality and leaving the incompetence I felt in the past. “You’re up,” she whispers, bouncing Josie on her hip.
“Right, yes.” I clear my throat, pumps still going, and address the room. “Thank you, Benny, for covering those things. Alright, next up we have our spring art show, and then prom will be here before we know it.”
Kate whoops at the mention of prom, because of course she does. Last prom was the year she and Malcolm finally got together after five painfully obvious years of him pining over her like a lovestruck puppy. They’ve been disgustinglyinseparable ever since. Malcolm winks at her, and the room groans as one.
Staying on task, I add, “We could really use some help with set-up this year. Please don’t make me assign names.” I eye the group of chatty Kathys in the back corner—literally, there’s a Kathy and Cathy making up half of the liberal arts crew, who are very good at ignoring these meetings.
Benny pipes up immediately, dragging Ellie into his “we’ll help” statement. He beams, as if the whole school isn’t aware that he will help witheverything.
“Thank you, Benny,” I deadpan, trying to coax more hands. “If anyone else could—”
“Let me have a turn with her,” Margaret interjects, wiggling her fingers in Josie’s direction.
“Did you wash your hands?” Ellie asks, givingMargaret a look like she, herself, is covered in baby poop.
Margaret scoffs, and Ellie whips her head toward me for backup. I take a strategic step back; I am not refereeing a baby-holding cage match. Benny’s quiet coaxing eventually pries Josie from Ellie’s arms, but not before she levels Margaret with anI’m watching youtwo-finger warning.
“Alright, then, as I was saying…” My words trail off as I hear footsteps pounding down the hall, followed by a loud slam of a locker and a string of curse words.
“Here we go,” Malcolm mutters, and Kate elbows him in the ribs.
“Be nice,” she tells him as Rob Daniels barrels in, sweat beading on his forehead and his necktie crooked over hisStar Warsgraphic tee.
“Mr. Daniels, nice of you to join us.” I bite back the smile as I savor the line I’ve always wanted a chance to say.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he stammers. “I got held up with the—”
I give him a careful nod and direct him to sit down. His eyes are full of fear and shame ashe takes the seat next to Benny. He hugs his computer bag to his chest and Benny gives me the “go easy on him” look.
“Glad you made it, Rob.” I give him a smile, and he loosens slightly.
“Now back to prom set-up. Does anyone else want to commit, or do you want to wait until my kindly worded email next week?”
Before anyone can answer, Josie starts to wail in Margaret’s arms.
“What did you do?” Ellie snaps, reaching for the baby.
“Why don’t I take her?” I say softly.
Ellie winces at my words, aware that she’s overstepping. Margaret hands Josie over, and my baby girl melts into me instantly, soothed by my voice and heartbeat. Her curls tickle my cheek as she nestles in, and the room releases a collective “Aww.”
“There, there,” I whisper. She wiggles a few times before finally falling asleep against my chest.
“Wrapping up,” I whisper to the room, “prom email goes out next week, check your inbox. And for the peer interview next week, we still need two people to sit—”
Kate’s and Malcolm’s hands fly up.
“Again, you cannot participate if you have a personal relationship with the interviewee.” Their hands drop.
“Interview?” Daniels asks.
“For the theater position,” Benny whispers.
