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the side of his temple with one aching hand. “It’s not that we don’t want to. Christian would be more than welcome. It’s that we can’t provide the education that the state says we must.”
    Luisa smiled. “But you must understand my position, Mr. Altari. Christian must go to school somewhere. If he cannot go here, and he can’t go to Willsboro, and he can’t go to Lake Placid, where can he go?” She shook her head, her short black curls fanning over her shoulders. “Plattsburgh is over an hour and a half away by bus. That is unacceptable.”
    “That is a long ride.” Donald tapped a few computer keys. “Maybe we could find a Spanish-speaking tutor who could homeschool Christian.”
    “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. He is a very social boy, and I think a year of being isolated from all the other children would not be in his best interests.” Luisa leaned forward.“Maybe if the tutor could come with him to the classroom, and translate—”
    “You wanted to see me, Mr. Altari?” Glenn Rabideau, a short, stocky man leaned into the office. He handled language arts for the campus—largely French.
    “Yes,” Donald replied. “Glenn, this is Mrs. Alvarez. Mrs. Alvarez, Glenn Rabideau. He turned toward the teacher, thankful for once that the man was not reeking of aftershave. “Mrs. Alvarez’s son doesn’t speak English, and we’re trying to come up with some way to teach him.”
    Glenn smiled. It was a thin, narrow grimace, the type you see on well-fed weasels. “Well, maybe she should have him swim back to wherever they came from. I bet they speak plenty of good Spanish there.”
    Donald’s jaw dropped so hard his cheeks hurt.
    “Mr. Rabideau,” Luisa said, whirling to face Glenn in one fluid motion. “Let me assure you that while my son speaks no English, my command of the language is more than adequate. Your presence at this meeting is no longer required.”
    Face flaming, Glenn looked to Donald. Hurriedly, Donald shut his gaping mouth, and nodded.
    He’d barely left when Luisa continued. “Is this the attitude I am to expect from your school? Is this the environment I should send my child into? I think not!” She grabbed her purse from the floor and headed to the door.
    Donald scrambled after her. “Mrs. Alvarez! Please, stop!” He caught her above the elbow, and found himself facing furious black eyes. “I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Mr. Rabideau will be reprimanded. I do not allow, nor do I tolerate, that kind of behavior on my campus.”
    Time froze for a moment. Luisa held perfectly still, not moving for the space of a dozen heartbeats. Her eyes never left Donald’s. And then she smiled.
    “Well, then, Mr. Altari, perhaps we can discuss how we will arrange Christian’s class schedule.”
     
    Two hours had elapsed since Luisa Alvarez had left Donald’s office. A thin folder of neatly completed paperwork sat before him, filled with Christian’s health and educational records. He’d only skimmed them. It didn’t take much to see the boy’s grades were excellent.
    A tutor had been hired to accompany Christian throughout the day and provide English instruction. It wasn’t easy to find a qualified teacher on such short notice, but Donald’s mortification had been a powerful motivator. And when Luisa had suggested that it would be a good gesture for the school district to pick up the tab for the special tutor, he couldn’t help agreeing.
    There were almost four months of the school year left. That was almost three thousand dollars of tutoring he had to pay for, three thousand dollars that were nowhere in his budget.
    Donald Altari was not a happy man.
    “Shirley?” he said, barking into his intercom. “I want Glenn in here. Yesterday.”
    A few minutes later, Glenn entered his office. “Don, I—”
    “Just stop.” Donald cut him off. “I really don’t want to hear it.” He picked up his pen, sprawled on the notepad in front of him. “Just tell me what