Read Online The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom by Robyn Harding - Free Book Online Page A

T-shirts to school in her pants
pocket, and changing into them after I’d dropped her off. This meeting could be
to discuss her parading around the classroom dressed like some chick in a
Whitesnake video.
    “Mr. Dennison didn’t give me any specifics. We’ll see you
this afternoon.”
    Three hours later, I was sitting in one of the hard, wooden
chairs lining the wall in the school office’s reception area. I felt just like
I did in ninth grade, when I got caught stealing Sandy Moresso’s bra out of her
gym locker and hanging it from the basketball hoop during the boy’s gym class.
It served her right for having such enormous boobs, when some of us barely—”
    A door opened and Mr. Dennison, a tall, fortyish man with an
extremely obvious dye job, walked briskly toward me. “Paige Atwell. Nice to see
you.”
    “And you,” I said, shaking the hand he proffered in
greeting.
    “Let’s step into my office so we can talk in private.”
    Obediently, I limped along behind him, my heart thudding
loudly in my chest. When I was seated in the cramped, airless office, facing
Mr. Dennison across his large oak desk, I took a deep breath. “I think I know
what this is about,” I said.
    “You do?”
    “Yes, and I agree that it’s a problem, but I’m at my wit’s
end. I’ve tried, on numerous occasions, to talk to Spencer about his language.
I’ve told him that there are parts of the body that are private, and also, the
things that come out of those private parts, are a natural part of the body’s
functioning, and they are not funny, or shocking, but also private, and not to
be discussed, especially at school. But it’s like an obsession with him.”
    Mr. Dennison looked puzzled and mildly amused. “Actually, I
called you in today to talk about Chloe.”
    “Oh.”
    “But we can talk about Spencer’s issue too, if you like?”
    “No, thanks.”
    “Well, Ms. Blackmore and I are concerned about Chloe.”
    I was not about to jump in with my theories this time.
“Yes?”
    “We suspect she may have some problems with her vision.”
    “Her vision?” Was it wrong to be relieved?
    “Yes. Ms. Blackmore has noticed her squinting at the
chalkboard, and she had to move Chloe’s desk closer to the front. I don’t know
if you’ve noticed any strange facial movements or expressions at home?”
    Other than constant sneers of disdain.... “Not really.”
    “We’ve noticed some in class, which are most likely caused
by the tension of eye strain. We recommend she see an optometrist for a vision
test. She’ll probably need some glasses.”
    “Certainly, I’ll make her an appointment right away,” I
replied cheerfully. It wasn’t like I was happy that Chloe needed
glasses, but the problem was so wonderfully cut-and-dried. Daughter has bad
vision: see optometrist, get glasses.
    “This can be a tricky subject to broach with girls Chloe’s
age. They’re just becoming aware of their looks, of fashion… That’s why I
wanted to meet with you in person—to make sure you felt equipped to bring this
up with Chloe on your own.”
    What a thoughtful man. I was lucky to have such a caring
principal at my children’s school. Not many men would be as sensitive to the
issues facing young girls today. I smiled at him. Really, other than the
blackish-red hair dye, he was not a bad-looking guy. If he let his natural hair
color return and bought a better suit, Mr. Dennison would be almost attractive.
And his hands… they looked quite strong and masculine, despite his desk job.
Maybe he did carpentry on the weekends? I had always had a thing for manly
hands. By looking at a man’s hands, it was almost like I could feel them—”
    “So… do you feel comfortable talking to Chloe?”
    “I think so,” I said, smiling at him. “I may need to call on
you for backup, though, if things get difficult. Would that be okay?” My tone
was sweet, almost cloying. What was I doing? Was I flirting? Oh God! Sure, I
felt bored and lonely, but