morning.
The place would probably be locked up tomorrow,since it was Sunday, and that would mean no advance reconnaissance mission for Matt. He was five, a new kid in a new community. Steven wanted to give him every chance to get his bearings.
On the way back into Stone Creek, Matt nodded off. Zeke, ever the sport, sank down on the seat and went to sleep, too. The peace and quiet was a wash, though, because that dog snored like a buzz saw gnawing into hardwood.
As soon as they pulled up in front of Creekside Academy, a long, low redbrick structure with green shutters on the windows, a large fenced playground and a tall flagpole, with Old Glory up there flapping in the breeze, Matt and Zeke woke up.
Zeke barked jubilantly. Maybe he was patriotic.
Considering that it was Saturday afternoon, it seemed to Steven that there were a lot of cars in the paved parking lot, which looked out over the creek mentioned in the school’s name. He knew Creekside was open six days a week, though, and figured the camp must be doing a brisk business.
He parked the truck beside a spiffy replica of a 1954 MG Roadster, looking over one shoulder to admire it while he stood beside the rear passenger door of his new truck, helping Matt with all his fastenings.
They walked Zeke, cleaned up after him and put him back in the truck, where he promptly curled up on the seat, with a big dog sigh, and resumed the nap he’d started earlier.
Elaine Carpenter, owner and founder of Creekside Academy, greeted Steven and Matt at the front desk. She was an interesting character, Elaine was, her buzz cut atconsiderable variance with her ruffled cotton sundress and ankle-strap sandals.
Steven introduced himself and Matt, since he’d never met Elaine in person, and she made serious business of leaning down, looking straight into the little boy’s eyes, and solemnly shaking his hand.
“Welcome to Creekside Academy, Matt,” she said. “I know you’ll like it here.”
Matt returned the handshake—and the solemn gaze. “I don’t suppose you allow dogs to come to school,” he ventured.
Elaine smiled at Steven as she straightened, but her expression was regretful when she looked at Matt again. “Only on show-and-tell days, I’m afraid,” she said. She held out her hand to Matt, and he took it. “Let’s have a look around.”
“Where is everybody?” Matt asked, not pulling away. “There are lots of cars in the lot, but I don’t see any kids around.”
Elaine tilted her head toward a closed door, opposite her desk. Through the glass window, Steven saw several heads moving around, most of them female, but it was the sign taped beneath that caught his attention:
PARADE COMMITTEE MEETING
3:00 P.M.
HELP US WELCOME MELISSA O’BALLIVAN
TO OUR GROUP!
Steven smiled.
Guided by Elaine, he and Matt toured the day camp, checked out the mini-gym, the art room, the music room and the colorfully decorated classrooms.
The place was kid-heaven, and Steven was impressed, though part of his mind didn’t make the journey but stayed right there in front of that door with the sign on it, coming up with all kinds of ways to welcome Melissa O’Ballivan—to all kinds of places.
Like his bed, for instance.
It was an inappropriate train of thought, for sure, but there you go.
He was an adoptive father, settling his young son into a new community, introducing him to a new school.
He was also a man, one who’d been alone too long.
And Melissa was definitely a woman.
By the time they’d gone full circle, Elaine wanted to meet Zeke in person, so to speak, since he must be a pretty magnificent dog, given the way Matt sang his praises.
Elaine raised an eyebrow at Steven, who was lingering outside the community-room door. “Would that be all right?”
Steven nodded, handed her the keys to his truck, so she could open the door and meet Zeke face-to-face.
Matt, holding Elaine’s hand as he led the way outside, didn’t even look back at Steven. He was busy
The place would probably be locked up tomorrow,since it was Sunday, and that would mean no advance reconnaissance mission for Matt. He was five, a new kid in a new community. Steven wanted to give him every chance to get his bearings.
On the way back into Stone Creek, Matt nodded off. Zeke, ever the sport, sank down on the seat and went to sleep, too. The peace and quiet was a wash, though, because that dog snored like a buzz saw gnawing into hardwood.
As soon as they pulled up in front of Creekside Academy, a long, low redbrick structure with green shutters on the windows, a large fenced playground and a tall flagpole, with Old Glory up there flapping in the breeze, Matt and Zeke woke up.
Zeke barked jubilantly. Maybe he was patriotic.
Considering that it was Saturday afternoon, it seemed to Steven that there were a lot of cars in the paved parking lot, which looked out over the creek mentioned in the school’s name. He knew Creekside was open six days a week, though, and figured the camp must be doing a brisk business.
He parked the truck beside a spiffy replica of a 1954 MG Roadster, looking over one shoulder to admire it while he stood beside the rear passenger door of his new truck, helping Matt with all his fastenings.
They walked Zeke, cleaned up after him and put him back in the truck, where he promptly curled up on the seat, with a big dog sigh, and resumed the nap he’d started earlier.
Elaine Carpenter, owner and founder of Creekside Academy, greeted Steven and Matt at the front desk. She was an interesting character, Elaine was, her buzz cut atconsiderable variance with her ruffled cotton sundress and ankle-strap sandals.
Steven introduced himself and Matt, since he’d never met Elaine in person, and she made serious business of leaning down, looking straight into the little boy’s eyes, and solemnly shaking his hand.
“Welcome to Creekside Academy, Matt,” she said. “I know you’ll like it here.”
Matt returned the handshake—and the solemn gaze. “I don’t suppose you allow dogs to come to school,” he ventured.
Elaine smiled at Steven as she straightened, but her expression was regretful when she looked at Matt again. “Only on show-and-tell days, I’m afraid,” she said. She held out her hand to Matt, and he took it. “Let’s have a look around.”
“Where is everybody?” Matt asked, not pulling away. “There are lots of cars in the lot, but I don’t see any kids around.”
Elaine tilted her head toward a closed door, opposite her desk. Through the glass window, Steven saw several heads moving around, most of them female, but it was the sign taped beneath that caught his attention:
PARADE COMMITTEE MEETING
3:00 P.M.
HELP US WELCOME MELISSA O’BALLIVAN
TO OUR GROUP!
Steven smiled.
Guided by Elaine, he and Matt toured the day camp, checked out the mini-gym, the art room, the music room and the colorfully decorated classrooms.
The place was kid-heaven, and Steven was impressed, though part of his mind didn’t make the journey but stayed right there in front of that door with the sign on it, coming up with all kinds of ways to welcome Melissa O’Ballivan—to all kinds of places.
Like his bed, for instance.
It was an inappropriate train of thought, for sure, but there you go.
He was an adoptive father, settling his young son into a new community, introducing him to a new school.
He was also a man, one who’d been alone too long.
And Melissa was definitely a woman.
By the time they’d gone full circle, Elaine wanted to meet Zeke in person, so to speak, since he must be a pretty magnificent dog, given the way Matt sang his praises.
Elaine raised an eyebrow at Steven, who was lingering outside the community-room door. “Would that be all right?”
Steven nodded, handed her the keys to his truck, so she could open the door and meet Zeke face-to-face.
Matt, holding Elaine’s hand as he led the way outside, didn’t even look back at Steven. He was busy
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