“Hey, she asked for…” he began, sounding even to his own ears like he was younger than his son.
“Don’t you dare,” Lizzy said. “Don’t you dare say that.” She was shaking, not only with fear but with rage.
And as suddenly as if they’d discussed it, Lizzy, James, and Sarah scattered to other parts of the house, leaving him by himself.
JimBee remembered tomorrow would be the Homecoming game and dance. He didn’t care if he saw Little Miss Bitch in the damn dress or not. Or even James in his tux. He conceded inwardly that he might go to the game, see if James got something right out on the field.
But that was all he’d do.
Though he’d known for two months that he and Lizzy were scheduled to chaperone the dance, he decided she could do that on her own, if she was so damn mad at him.
The next day, Travis High was buzzing with excitement. The cheerleaders put up laboriously created banners (“Panthers CLAW the Bears”), parents came and went all day decorating the gym and dropping off refreshments for the dance, and though the kids rotated through their classroom schedule, it was easy to see that learning was the last thing on their minds.
“Yes, Sarah?” Coach Halsey said. She’d stopped at his desk when the second period bell rang.
“My dad promised to chaperone tonight, but he’s not going to come. Just my mom will be there.”
“I’m sure there are enough parents coming, Sarah.”
“I just thought you ought to know.” She went out. She was walking stiffly.
He related the conversation to Anne DeWitt later that day.
“That’s very interesting,” Anne said. “I heard Sarah telling Buddy the exact same thing when she came in this morning.” Buddy Mathis, Anne’s assistant, was a burly plodder who talked tough and looked tougher, befitting the person in charge of discipline.
“Hmmm,” said Holt. “Why would she…?” And then he paused, startled.
“Yes,” Anne said. And to Holt’s surprise, she laughed.
That night at the Homecoming Dance, Principal DeWitt was the subject of many admiring comments. The warm slacks and boots and coat she’d worn to the game had been exchanged for a dressy emerald-green suit and some notable high heels consistent with conservative chic, her adopted look since she’d assumed the name and persona of Anne DeWitt. Holt Halsey (who himself looked fairly mouthwatering in a suit that fit surprisingly well) appreciated Anne’s grace as she made a point of talking to all the chaperones working the first shift. The two moms closest to him were talking about Anne. He listened in, of course. “How can she afford such an outfit on her salary?” said a senior’s mom. Her husband had just lost his job.
“I don’t know, but it sure looks good on her,” said a very plump mother, with a sad touch to her envy. “You know, she’s a widow. Maybe she got a big insurance payment?”
“Oh, right,” said the first mother with some sympathy. “Well, I’d sure rather have my husband.”
Not everyone felt that way, Holt thought, and his gaze lingered on Lizzy Toth, who was wearing tired slacks and a creased silk blouse. Holt searched the happy throng for the Toth kids. Sarah was holding hands with Brian, and she looked as pretty as she ever would, with her brown hair hanging free and the dark blue of the dress bringing out her eye color. Unfortunately, the lingering bruise on her upper shoulder wasn’t covered by her hair. She was looking around the room smiling, but she seemed a bit anxious. James and his date Mercedes were dancing. James looked like he’d been let out of prison early.
Holt worked his way around the room to stand by Anne. He leaned toward her wearing his public smile, and said, “Well?”
“Seems wrong to let her down,” Anne said, clearly surprised at her own conclusion.
Holt shrugged. “Whatever. I can slip out.”
“You know… I think I’ll do it. She’s watching you and Mathis. It’s about time Miss Sarah got a surprise.”
“People will notice your being gone more than me.”
“Not in these shoes,” she said wryly, and held out one foot, inviting his gaze.
She began easing her way to a corner of the room where a few parents were sitting. She dropped a complaint about her aching feet into three ears before settling herself into one of the metal chairs close to an exit. After a moment, she slipped out, right after asking Buddy Mathis to do a tour of the boys’ bathrooms.
In forty minutes Holt saw Anne come back into the gym in a lower pair of heels, reappearing as unobtrusively as she’d left. She drew her change of footwear to the attention of a few moms. “I keep these in my car,” she told Lizzy Toth. “They’re my go-to shoes.” She and Lizzy laughed together.
Holt Halsey completed his tour of the perimeter of the gym, confiscating a flask from a sophomore and reminding a junior couple that public displays of affection in the school gym were not cool before he drifted close to Anne, who was talking to the president of the senior class, a go-getter named Leon Gilchrist. Gilchrist was trying to persuade the principal that he would be the logical choice for Outstanding Senior.
With a few well-chosen words, Anne let Gilchrist know that he was definitely on the list, that his name would be given all due consideration, that she thought he was a good class president… and that he should enjoy the dance with his date, instead of talking to her.
“Done?” Holt said, smiling broadly for whoever happened to be watching, as soon as Leon departed to claim his date at the food table.
“Done,” she asked, smiling back. “Stairs. He was drunk.”
Holt understood from this that JimBee had made an involuntary and very quick trip down the stairs. He had certainly had help, but that would not be apparent.
“Shame on him,” he said mildly.
He waited while Anne took a moment to greet some parents who were arriving for the second shift of chaperoning. The first shift parents, among them Lizzy Toth, were easing their way to the door. Lizzy took a moment to crane over the crowd and see her children, with their dates, having their pictures made by the hired photographer.
As Friday night turned the corner into Saturday morning, the gym began to empty out. Holt thought it took a surprisingly long time for the Toth children to get their phone calls from their mother. She must have waited until the body had been removed.
Sarah was so upset her father was dead that she hugged the assistant principal, which Buddy Mathis endured until he was relieved by a friend of Lizzy’s. Buddy was glad to resume marshalling the parents who were on the cleanup team. From a distance, Holt thought that it seemed as though Sarah started to walk toward him, but the cluster of solicitous parents moved her inexorably toward the parking lot and a ride home to her mother, sweeping James up into their net. Holt made his way over to the Toth kids’ stunned dates, to suggest that Brian take Mercedes home. They were grateful at being organized, and left quickly.
The temperature had dropped on Sunday night, so on Monday afternoon Holt Halsey wore a suit and an overcoat to JimBee’s funeral. He was accompanied by Anne, Buddy Mathis, and two other teachers who’d known the deceased. They drove directly to the Presbyterian church from the school.
Buddy said, “Is it true that Sarah’s score is the best one a Travis kid has ever made on the SAT?”
“True,” said Anne. “I’ve spent this morning studying the scores of our kids.”
“And then this has to happen,” said the calculus teacher. “Lizzy is a sweet woman, and Sarah and James are good kids. Maybe…” But she stopped short of sharing her opinion that the whole family would better off now. They all understood that.
Buddy Mathis said, “I heard his alcohol level was way high.”