Page 158 of Time Stops With You

“Let’s go in.” I gesture for her to enter first.

“What about Josiah?” Mom asks.

“He’s in an after-school club. So he’ll be finished right around when we’re ready to leave.”

Mom finally relaxes. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

We enter the room. Seven pairs of eyes attack us like killer bees. A tall, svelte woman with straight brown hair, tan skin and not a single line in her forehead, rises to her feet.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that the missing member of our little troupe?” Her tight, controlled laughter peels around the room.

“Cathleen.” I nod.

“Nardi, right?”

She knows my name is Nardi. She’s been calling me out every week in the chat group.

“And who’s this?” Cathleen turns to mom.

“Josiah’s mother. And my mother too, of course.” I tack on.

“Nice to meet you.”

Cathleen looks at mom’s hand and smiles tightly. “I’m not one for handshakes.”

“A hug is better then?” Mom stretches out her arms.

The other woman turns squeamish. “No, no. A handshake is fine.”

The two shake hands and Cathleen rushes back to her seat.

I share a look at mom and we both pull our lips into our mouths to keep from laughing.

Cathleen commences the meeting and mom and I both stay quiet for most of it.

Until they start talking finances.

“Rachel, thank you for generously donating the smoke machine. I know that will add to the atmosphere.” Cathleen nods in approval.

“No problem,” Rachel says, preening as the room erupts into applause for her.

“And Martha, I’m thrilled that your husband is offering a gift card to his clinic for the raffle.” Cathleen presses a manicured finger into her forehead. “I need another tune up.”

The women break out into refined laughter.

“Um,” Cathleen smacks her over-plump lips and I know who she’s targeting next, “Nardi? Yes, you, Nardi.”

My smile trembles but I raise my head bravely. “I don’t have anything too expensive, but my mother and I are from Belize. We can provide some cultural desserts like powder buns or Belizean fudge.”

“Ooh.” Mom smirks at me. “Belizean fudge will sell like crazy.Unu nohtaste Belizean fudge yet, have you?”

Cathleen’s left eye starts twitching. “Wh-what did you just say? Were you talking English?”

Mom stiffens.

“She was speaking Belizean Kriol, but it’s really close to English.”

“Ah.” Cathleen slows her speech and raises her voice like we’re toddlers. “Here inAmerica,” she swipes a circle, “we speakEnglish.”

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