Page 8 of The Falcon and the Foe

“I’m sorry to tell you that there’s no epic conspiracy against you.”

“For years, I’d been getting guilted by your stuck-up parent friends for not taking part in the PTA because I had the audacity to have a full-time job. So then I joined, which was a bitch and a half with my work schedules and meant I had to give up two well-paying voiceover gigs, and you kicked me out.”

“I have a full-time job, too. I’m parenting on my own, too. But I still make time.”

“You have a laptop job. You can do your spreadsheet and calcumalations from anywhere.”

“That’s not how I would describe being the Head of Operations for a software company.”

“I’m sorry I’m not Mr. Perfect Dad like you.”

I rubbed at my forehead. Fortunately, we were in a corner of the room, so Cal’s histrionics weren’t drawing a crowd. Yet. “Plain and simple, we didn’t see eye to eye on the carnival.”

“Yeah, I had fun, fresh ideas. And you wanted same old, same old.”

Cal had this ability to flip an angry switch inside me faster than anyone else, red coursing through my chest.

“Your fun ideas were ridiculous!” I whisper-yelled. “You wanted to set up a teacher dunk tank. In early April. When the temperatures are in the fifties.”

“The temperature can vary, and the water would’ve been heated.”

“Yeah, let’s get our teachers to sit on a ledge in chilly weather and wait to be dunked in warm water. No chance of getting pneumonia there.”

“Of course, that’s where your mind instantly goes. No imagination.”

“Oh, I’m imagining—lawsuits! And did you look up how much it costs to rent a dunk tank? How much it adds to the insurance costs?”

Cal stammered for an answer. He folded his arms across his chest. “It wasn’t that much.”

“But did you look it up? Because I did.”

“Well, what about my idea for doing a silent auction instead of a raffle? You shot it down in two seconds flat.”

“I’m not going to rehash history here.”

“You refused to let us rent a Ferris wheel. You said it was too dangerous.”

“It wasn’t in the budget,” I uttered through my teeth.

“A Ferris wheel. Too dangerous. Did you think it was going to detach and roll through town, flattening everything in its wake Godzilla-style? No wonder attendance was low. I heard it barely broke even. Cleaning bedpans at the hospital would’ve been more fun than the carnival.”

“I’d rather stick my head in a used bedpan than continue this conversation with you.”

“Why wait?” Cal huffed out a breath and puffed out his chest. “If you had your way, we’d wrap our kids in bubble wrap. Josh is so excited about the Falcons, but from your presentation, it sounds like it’s going to be a slog of safety rules and learning how to wrap ace bandages.”

“If you were in charge, we’d all sit around watching reality TV and wiping Cheeto residue on our pants.”

“Please. I don’t even like Cheetos.”

I looked up, and the remaining parents and kids quickly looked away from this car crash of a conversation.

“Russ?” Eddie tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey, Eddie.” I shook myself from the fog of Cal.

Eddie slinked in between us. “Hey, uh, I forgot to give this back to you.” He handed over his scout leader badge and hat. “Again, sorry I can’t be co-scout leader with you, but I’m sure you’ll find someone great to fill the role.”

He gave a half-wave to Cal, then darted out of there so fast I thought I saw an Eddie-shaped cloud of smoke in his wake.

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