Death of a PTA Goddess Read Online Free Page B
committees, ever since Patty had become president. He was a dark, tall, muscular man with a square jaw and deep-set eyes, and a mustache squared off at the ends to look a little too Hitler-like for my tastes. He gave me a sheepish smile and said, “Chad Martinez. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Molly Masters.”
“Ah. Right. Come in, Milly.”
“Molly.” I removed my coat, which he immediately collected from me.
“I’ll put your coat in the spare bedroom. Patty’s in the kitchen.” Apparently he had no problem remembering that her name was Patty, not Pitty.
“She made such delicious hors d’oeuvres . . . pastries stuffed with corned beef . . . that I ate most of them. She’s just getting a second batch out of the oven now.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He nodded and headed down the hallway, carrying my coat.
Although I recognized a few faces in the small gathering, I headed straight to Susan Embrick. She was a little older than I, in her mid-forties, with short, jet-black-dyed hair. She was standing a short distance from Mr. Alberti, a teacher at the high school, who was the only person so far that Stephanie would not have considered part of the “PTA board.”
Susan blew on the surface of the liquid in her coffee cup, then I winced as she took what appeared to be a gulp of the very hot liquid. She smiled when she spotted me approaching.
“How are you, Susan?”
“Fine, Molly. How about you?” She ran a trembling hand through her hair. She always seemed to have a slight case of the shakes. She had four children, ranging in age from seven to seventeen. That would make anyone’s hands tremble.
“I’m fine.” Okay, we’d said something pleasant to each other; time to broach the subject matter so pressingly on my mind. “Our teenagers are on a date tonight.”
“Yes, I know. Adam told me he has a nice evening planned. He’s had quite the crush on your daughter for some time now.”
“Oh? For how long? Karen doesn’t volunteer much information to me, now that she’s in high school.”
“Really? Adam tells me absolutely everything.” She crossed her eyes to let me know that she was joking. She took another gulp of coffee. “I threaten to withhold his allowance each week till he opens up with at least one tidbit of personal information.”
“Did he tell you I called you back this morning?”
She grimaced and said irritably, “No. That would require his remembering that there are other people . . .” She let her voice fade. “This isn’t the right time to point out my son’s typical shortcomings. He’s a wonderful young man, Molly, and I hear nothing but good things about your daughter, so they’ll make a terrific couple.”
Oh, God. My little girl, one half of a high school couple! Why couldn’t she be a late-bloomer like her mother? My stomach churning, I reached for a less-upsetting topic. “What’s this emergency meeting about?”
“That’s why I called you last night, to see if you knew what was going on. Stephanie had phoned me a while earlier, saying that Patty had ‘done something unconscionable’ and videotaped us, but wouldn’t tell me anything more.”
“Hmm. She told me that the PTA’s privacy had been violated. Which must mean that Patty videotaped our meetings, for some reason. But they’re public, anyway, so I don’t see why that would be all that upsetting.”
“It’s puzzling, all right.” She glanced at her watch. “And now Stephanie is being passive-aggressively late to arrive.”
“As opposed to my being
coincidentally
late to anything that Stephanie hosts.”
Susan smirked. “Well, that’s different. Stephanie deserves it.”
“Deserves what?” Patty asked, appearing behind us with a steaming plate of puff pastries. Before Susan could answer, Patty smiled at me. “Molly, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.” She indicated her appetizers with a tilt of her head. “Try one of these pasties. Tell me what you
“Molly Masters.”
“Ah. Right. Come in, Milly.”
“Molly.” I removed my coat, which he immediately collected from me.
“I’ll put your coat in the spare bedroom. Patty’s in the kitchen.” Apparently he had no problem remembering that her name was Patty, not Pitty.
“She made such delicious hors d’oeuvres . . . pastries stuffed with corned beef . . . that I ate most of them. She’s just getting a second batch out of the oven now.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He nodded and headed down the hallway, carrying my coat.
Although I recognized a few faces in the small gathering, I headed straight to Susan Embrick. She was a little older than I, in her mid-forties, with short, jet-black-dyed hair. She was standing a short distance from Mr. Alberti, a teacher at the high school, who was the only person so far that Stephanie would not have considered part of the “PTA board.”
Susan blew on the surface of the liquid in her coffee cup, then I winced as she took what appeared to be a gulp of the very hot liquid. She smiled when she spotted me approaching.
“How are you, Susan?”
“Fine, Molly. How about you?” She ran a trembling hand through her hair. She always seemed to have a slight case of the shakes. She had four children, ranging in age from seven to seventeen. That would make anyone’s hands tremble.
“I’m fine.” Okay, we’d said something pleasant to each other; time to broach the subject matter so pressingly on my mind. “Our teenagers are on a date tonight.”
“Yes, I know. Adam told me he has a nice evening planned. He’s had quite the crush on your daughter for some time now.”
“Oh? For how long? Karen doesn’t volunteer much information to me, now that she’s in high school.”
“Really? Adam tells me absolutely everything.” She crossed her eyes to let me know that she was joking. She took another gulp of coffee. “I threaten to withhold his allowance each week till he opens up with at least one tidbit of personal information.”
“Did he tell you I called you back this morning?”
She grimaced and said irritably, “No. That would require his remembering that there are other people . . .” She let her voice fade. “This isn’t the right time to point out my son’s typical shortcomings. He’s a wonderful young man, Molly, and I hear nothing but good things about your daughter, so they’ll make a terrific couple.”
Oh, God. My little girl, one half of a high school couple! Why couldn’t she be a late-bloomer like her mother? My stomach churning, I reached for a less-upsetting topic. “What’s this emergency meeting about?”
“That’s why I called you last night, to see if you knew what was going on. Stephanie had phoned me a while earlier, saying that Patty had ‘done something unconscionable’ and videotaped us, but wouldn’t tell me anything more.”
“Hmm. She told me that the PTA’s privacy had been violated. Which must mean that Patty videotaped our meetings, for some reason. But they’re public, anyway, so I don’t see why that would be all that upsetting.”
“It’s puzzling, all right.” She glanced at her watch. “And now Stephanie is being passive-aggressively late to arrive.”
“As opposed to my being
coincidentally
late to anything that Stephanie hosts.”
Susan smirked. “Well, that’s different. Stephanie deserves it.”
“Deserves what?” Patty asked, appearing behind us with a steaming plate of puff pastries. Before Susan could answer, Patty smiled at me. “Molly, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.” She indicated her appetizers with a tilt of her head. “Try one of these pasties. Tell me what you