out. She always did. There was no way she was losing her family’s home.
* * *
THE STAFF LUNCHROOM in the back of the Play Hard Sports store served as the exam room. Melody and two other management trainees competing for the same position at the Newark store sat in the overheated room waiting to begin. Again, she was relieved there had been no one else interested in the position in the Brookhollow store. The whole process had been stressful enough, and she’d have hated to compete for the promotion. Staring at the closed booklet, she replayed over and over the things she’d studied. Heather had taught her to visualize charts and definitions in order to recall them more easily during the test, but today whenever she closed her eyes, all she saw was the notice from the bank. She forced all thoughts of that morning’s disturbing news away. The exam facilitator, a woman from head office, checked her watch and told them to begin.
Melody opened the exam booklet and scanned the first section. She felt the tension in her shoulders begin to melt. Product knowledge—her strongest subject. Not only had she worked in the store for eight months, but she also had the advantage of growing up with two athletic brothers. Now her boys were playing on every sports team in town. Sports equipment was something she knew. She flew through the hundred multiple-choice questions quickly, never second-guessing her answers.
The next section was tougher—questions about the principles of management—but as she skimmed them, images of the cue cards around her house popped into her mind. Thank you, Heather. Furiously, she scribbled detailed responses and even provided examples that weren’t required. Better to give too much in the way of an answer than not enough.
As she turned to the last section an hour later, she felt her cell phone vibrate. She’d put the cell in her purse, which was sitting on the floor against the chair leg. Who was trying to reach her at twelve-thirty on a Monday afternoon? Everyone knew she was writing an exam at that time. She contemplated not reaching for it...but what if it was an emergency? When the boys weren’t with her, she liked to be available. Lowering her right hand, she slid the zipper open on the purse and glanced down to see the caller ID. Brookhollow Elementary. The boys’ school never called unless they were sick or injured.
“Um, excuse me,” she said to the exam moderator.
“Yes?” The woman looked up from the home-and-garden magazine she was reading.
The other two employees glanced up from their exams.
“Sorry,” Melody said. “It’s my son’s school. Can I take it outside?” She held the vibrating phone.
The woman shook her head. “I’m sorry, but if you leave the testing area, you can’t reenter.”
“Well, can I answer it quickly here?”
“No.”
Melody stared at the vibrating phone. She was almost done the exam. Another hour at most. Could the call wait? The exam was too important to mess up, especially now, but family always came first. What was she supposed to do? If she left the exam, she wouldn’t get the promotion and the kids would suffer...but what if one of them were hurt? Damn it. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” She grabbed her purse and rushed from the room, dropping the unfinished exam on the facilitator’s desk as she passed. “Hello?” she said as the room door closed behind her.
“Melody?”
She recognized the school secretary’s voice. “Yes, Amy. Are the boys okay?” She pushed her purse strap up her arm as she rushed down the hockey stick aisle in the showroom toward the front doors.
“It’s David.” The woman paused.
If only I could reach through the phone and strangle this woman. “Is he hurt?”
“No. He’s suspended.”
Melody struggled to catch the phone as it slipped from her fingers. David was suspended? How was that possible? He was a good kid. Sure, he’d been going through a bit of a rebellious phase lately, but that was normal for a boy his age, wasn’t it? Brookhollow Elementary never suspended anyone. At least this was the first suspension she’d ever heard of. “Why?”
“I’d rather tell you in person. Can you come to the school?”
Did she have a choice? “Yes, of course. I’ll be there soon,” she said. She disconnected the call.
Outside in the parking lot, she struggled with the stubborn handle on the minivan, her anxiety making her oblivious to the bitter cold whipping through her long-sleeved, ribbed shirt. She’d forgotten her winter coat in her haste to leave the exam room and answer her vibrating phone. “Come on,” she muttered, yanking the handle and steadying herself as the door flew open. Inside, her hand shook as she shoved the key in the ignition and reached for her seat belt. The strap wouldn’t budge, and glancing down, she saw it was trapped in the door. “Seriously?” Swinging the door open again, she freed the seat belt and slammed the door shut.
She tore out of the parking lot. The tires spun on a snowy patch and she cringed. She really couldn’t put off getting those winter tires any longer. Maybe she needed to allow Bailey to do them for free. If the boys got hurt because of the useless vehicle, she would be devastated.
As she drove, her mind reeled. Her son was suspended. Of all things. Of all days. What possibly could have happened that would have warranted a suspension. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t hear the wail of a police siren behind her. That couldn’t be for her...but a glance at the speedometer confirmed it was. She checked the rearview mirror, hit the brake slowly and pulled the van to the side of the road. She rolled down the window and waited, rubbing her arms for warmth. The van’s heater was useless.
“In a rush?” her father asked, coming up to the open window a minute later.
As the town police chief, her father took his job seriously. She just hoped he’d give her a break this time. A speeding ticket was the last thing she needed. “Hi, Dad. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention to the speed.”
“A tip? That’s not the best response to offer a police officer who pulls you over for dangerous driving, Melody.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, shivering.
“Where’s your coat?” He frowned.
“I forgot it at work—I’m on my way to Brookhollow Elementary,” she said reluctantly. Her family members were always offering unsolicited advice on her life choices and the way she was raising the boys. They criticized her independence, claiming she should ask for help more often.
Her father’s face changed in an instant from annoyed cop to worried grandfather. “The boys okay?”
She hesitated. She hated to tell anyone, including her family, if one of the boys had done something that appeared to be less than perfect. In their eyes, it was a reflection of her lack of parenting skills. “David has been suspended.”
“What did he do?”
She stiffened. Without the details, she refused to judge her son’s actions as being right or wrong. “I don’t know, but I’m on my way there now, Dad.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want her son to feel ganged up on. The boys were close
