Page 162 of Time Stops With You

Mom stirs in the bed next to me.

I grab my cell phone and hurry outside before I check the screen.

It’s Cathleen.

“Hi, Cathleen,” I say in a syrup-sweet voice.

“Nardi, I hope you weren’t offended by our discussion yesterday. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you in front of the ladies.”

Mission NOT-Accomplished, Cathleen.“Of course,” I croak out.

“I understand that you may not be able to handle a financial donation, so you’re alright with doing some extra tasks?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat and try to extend an olive branch. “Thank you for checking in with me.”

“Of course.”

My phone beeps with an incoming message from her.

“Cathleen,” I check my notifications quickly, “did you just send me a text?”

“Yes, since you’ve agreed, here’s a list of tasks that need to get done today before the doors open at noon.”

I cringe when I see the long, long list that includes, setting up all the decorations for the booths, bringing in all the chairs to the auditorium, and painting several signs.

How can I accomplish this even if I had twenty-four hours?

“Will that be a problem?” Cathleen’s tone drips with disdain.

“It just seems like a lot of work for one person.”

“You’re a strong, young lady. You can handle it.”

“But what about the rest of the moms?”

“The girls and I will check in with you around eight to make sure everything’s to our specifications.”

In other words, she and her posse aren’t lifting a finger.

I try another angle. “Maybe we can ask some kids from the school?—”

“The kids need their rest, Nardi. They’ve been working hard all week.” She coos, “I just thought, you know, since you haven’t been coming to the meetings, you’d make it up at the last moment. If not, I can tell the general manager you’d prefer to donate to the school in some other way?—”

“No, no. Not at all. This arrangement is fine with me. I’ll get it done.”

“Thank you.”

Mom’s footsteps patter behind me. “Who was that?”

“No one.” I smile and hurry to pull on a T-shirt, jeans, and my sneakers. “I have something to take care of for the fundraiser.”

“Atthis hour?The sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It’s fine.” I brush my teeth in the bathroom and rush out to grab my keys.

Mom stops me. “At least call the driver. You’re still wearing a wrist brace. It’s better to be careful.”

I don’t want to worry her, so I accept her suggestion and call Roger, apologizing over and over for bothering him so early.

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