supermarket. If you spooned it into stemmed glasses, added a dollop of whipped topping and sprinkled it with her secret ingredient, powdered chocolate sugar, it was almost impossible to tell the difference.
Any good Southern girl who didn’t know how to bake quickly learned how to fudge it. Another thing all good Southern girls knew was that you didn’t take credit for a blessing straight from God. The fact that she and the children had survived yesterday was nothing less than exactly that kind of blessing.
When the dessert looked restaurant-presentable, Claire waltzed back into the dining room and announced, “Viola!”
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.” Darlene reached for her dessert.
“It was nothing,” Claire quipped.
Her depressed friend popped a spoonful into her mouth. “Mmm. Yummy.”
There was no more talk of good-looking cops or love lives or lack thereof. Chocolate could always be counted on to soothe the wicked beast whether depression, envy or just plain old impatience.
Claire went all out. Even served coffee in the living room after dessert. It was that kind of day. One where she felt the need to celebrate the things she was lucky to have: good friends, a great job, nice home, food to eat, gourmet ground roast. All the necessities of life.
“Oh, I meant to tell you.” Darlene sat her half-empty cup on the table next to the sofa. “Mr. Allen’s service will be tomorrow. The school board is working with the family to make this a community-wide service.”
“I’m glad.” Claire put her cup aside, feeling warm and satisfied. “The entire community should come out and show their support and respect for Mr. Allen and his family. I’m going to miss him.”
“The whole school is going to miss him.” Darlene tucked her feet under her and got more comfortable. She had claimed one end of the sofa while Claire curled up on the other. “Speaking of school, there won’t be any tomorrow either. We’ll resume classes on Thursday. When I talked to Peg, I asked her about your classroom and she said you would be using the small auditorium for a while.”
Peg Mason was Mr. Allen’s secretary. “That’llwork.” Claire hadn’t really thought about where she would teach her class when school resumed. She hadn’t thought about much the last twenty-four hours…other than the past and the horrific moments in her classroom yesterday.
“You could take a few more days off if you feel the need,” Darlene suggested.
“No.” Claire shook her head adamantly. “I couldn’t do that to my students. They’re going to need familiarity. Consistency will be very important in moving beyond this trauma.”
“You’re right.” Darlene reached for her coffee and, as if she could sense Claire drifting back into troubling waters, she said, “So, have you ever dated a cop?”
Claire had to laugh. The woman was like a dog with a bone. “I can try and set you up if you’re that interested.”
Her friend chewed her lip for a moment. “Do you know how long they’ll need to keep an eye on you? I mean, have you heard whether or not they’ve caught the guy?”
You are dead!
Claire blinked away the ugly words reverberating in her head. “Nothing. They haven’t told me anything.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “But then I haven’t asked any questions. I suppose I should.”
Darlene patted her hand. “It’s only been twenty-four hours. Give yourself a little time. Surely someone will bring you up to speed by this evening or tomorrow morning at the latest. They can’t expect you to stay shut up in here forever.”
“I should hope not.”
The telephone rang. Claire started at the unexpected sound. She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’ve got to get past being so jumpy.”
“You want me to get it?” Darlene was already getting up.
“Sure.” Claire dropped her feet to the floor, but didn’t bother getting up. “Thanks.”
“Hello.”
Claire twisted
Any good Southern girl who didn’t know how to bake quickly learned how to fudge it. Another thing all good Southern girls knew was that you didn’t take credit for a blessing straight from God. The fact that she and the children had survived yesterday was nothing less than exactly that kind of blessing.
When the dessert looked restaurant-presentable, Claire waltzed back into the dining room and announced, “Viola!”
“You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.” Darlene reached for her dessert.
“It was nothing,” Claire quipped.
Her depressed friend popped a spoonful into her mouth. “Mmm. Yummy.”
There was no more talk of good-looking cops or love lives or lack thereof. Chocolate could always be counted on to soothe the wicked beast whether depression, envy or just plain old impatience.
Claire went all out. Even served coffee in the living room after dessert. It was that kind of day. One where she felt the need to celebrate the things she was lucky to have: good friends, a great job, nice home, food to eat, gourmet ground roast. All the necessities of life.
“Oh, I meant to tell you.” Darlene sat her half-empty cup on the table next to the sofa. “Mr. Allen’s service will be tomorrow. The school board is working with the family to make this a community-wide service.”
“I’m glad.” Claire put her cup aside, feeling warm and satisfied. “The entire community should come out and show their support and respect for Mr. Allen and his family. I’m going to miss him.”
“The whole school is going to miss him.” Darlene tucked her feet under her and got more comfortable. She had claimed one end of the sofa while Claire curled up on the other. “Speaking of school, there won’t be any tomorrow either. We’ll resume classes on Thursday. When I talked to Peg, I asked her about your classroom and she said you would be using the small auditorium for a while.”
Peg Mason was Mr. Allen’s secretary. “That’llwork.” Claire hadn’t really thought about where she would teach her class when school resumed. She hadn’t thought about much the last twenty-four hours…other than the past and the horrific moments in her classroom yesterday.
“You could take a few more days off if you feel the need,” Darlene suggested.
“No.” Claire shook her head adamantly. “I couldn’t do that to my students. They’re going to need familiarity. Consistency will be very important in moving beyond this trauma.”
“You’re right.” Darlene reached for her coffee and, as if she could sense Claire drifting back into troubling waters, she said, “So, have you ever dated a cop?”
Claire had to laugh. The woman was like a dog with a bone. “I can try and set you up if you’re that interested.”
Her friend chewed her lip for a moment. “Do you know how long they’ll need to keep an eye on you? I mean, have you heard whether or not they’ve caught the guy?”
You are dead!
Claire blinked away the ugly words reverberating in her head. “Nothing. They haven’t told me anything.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “But then I haven’t asked any questions. I suppose I should.”
Darlene patted her hand. “It’s only been twenty-four hours. Give yourself a little time. Surely someone will bring you up to speed by this evening or tomorrow morning at the latest. They can’t expect you to stay shut up in here forever.”
“I should hope not.”
The telephone rang. Claire started at the unexpected sound. She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’ve got to get past being so jumpy.”
“You want me to get it?” Darlene was already getting up.
“Sure.” Claire dropped her feet to the floor, but didn’t bother getting up. “Thanks.”
“Hello.”
Claire twisted
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