For All She Knows (Potomac Point #3) - Jamie Beck Page 0,5
I wanted to practice my speech once or twice more before the hearing.
Standing before a packed town hall to argue against the proposed budget could draw boos or cutting remarks from ramped-up parents. That claustrophobic feeling I’d always gotten while trying to make myself invisible during my father’s public drunkenness could return as quickly as the memories of my sister’s long stare and my mother’s muttered apologies and prayers. I rubbed my chest to ease the tightness.
Sam narrowed his gaze. “Relax, babe. Your speech is great. No one can squeeze more facts into sixty seconds than you.” His light chuckle loosened my shoulder and neck muscles. Sam’s faith always helped me relax. He was made for me, with his easy affection and attentiveness, his homebody ways, and even his love for music.
When Carter slumped with a pout, Sam mouthed, “What’s his problem?”
“Carter, lots of parents will be speaking out tonight, not just me.”
“Like Mrs. Gillette.” Carter looked up at me. “Is this really worth fighting with your best friend?”
“Grown-ups don’t make this stuff personal. In fact, she and I have plans to get together on Friday.” I handed Sam a carving knife, set a bowl of rice on the table, and strained the gravy, feigning more confidence than I felt. Yet if Mimi wasn’t backing down in deference to our friendship, why should I? “Is Rowan mad at her?”
“No. She’s not trying to take anything away from anyone.” Carter rested his chin on his fist.
“That’s not true,” Sam replied, supporting me as always. “The budget comes from tax revenue, which means all taxpayers get a say.”
As Sam took a seat and filled his plate, my phone rang. He looked up. “Leave it.”
But I’d already peeked. “It’s Carrie. Let me take this while you all start eating.”
He nodded, so I answered. “Hi, Carrie.”
“Grace, I’m here and the parking lot is full.”
“Already?” It was only six fifteen. My stomach dipped to my toes.
Carrie blew out a breath. Her daughter, Phoebe, was a gifted freshman. When the superintendent first published the upcoming year’s budget, Carrie had enlisted me to help her rally protesters. “That Mimi’s got the booster club out in full force. I bet we’re outnumbered by two to one.”
Poor Mimi was damned by some no matter what she did. If she hadn’t gotten involved, people would’ve criticized her for letting others stand up for her son’s interests.
“Please don’t refer to Mimi that way. She’s got every right to her opinion. We knew it’d be an uphill battle. If we lose tonight, we’ll send letters to the County Economic Council.” Hayden Chen, one of my husband’s partners, sat on that council, which had the ultimate approval rights over the budget. If tonight went badly, perhaps Sam could make a personal appeal to him—from one parent to another. I wouldn’t broadcast that fact to anyone, of course. I might feel a little guilty about that if Mimi and her team weren’t pressing every advantage they had as well. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Okay. See you soon.” Carrie hung up.
By the time I sat down, Kim’s chicken and rice were floating in a pool of gravy, which she dipped her finger into for a lick.
“Manners, honey.” I draped a napkin across my lap.
She straightened and picked up a fork.
“What did Carrie want?” Sam asked before taking another bite of chicken.
“Apparently town hall’s already packed.”
“Like church on Christmas—everyone’s coming out of the woodwork.” Sam smiled, but my stomach lurched.
Carter swallowed a spoonful of rice before saying, “If you’re that nervous, don’t go.”
“I’m fine.” I patted my forehead with my napkin and turned to Kim, forcing myself to think of something mundane. “I made brownies this morning. You can have one tonight, but only if you promise to listen to your brother.”
“Okay.” She then threw Carter a mischievous smile, proving she had no intention of making his job easy.
“And,” I added, “you have to eat all of your salad.”
Kim heaved a sigh that could raise a hot-air balloon. “Fine.”
Sam stood, rinsed his dish, and loaded it in the dishwasher, then clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Ready to rumble?”
Carter groaned, so Sam laughed. “Just kidding, buddy.” He gently batted our son’s shoulder. “Lighten up a little, all right?”
Carter nodded while Sam collected my plate and Carter’s and took them to the dishwasher. My kids had no idea how lucky they were to have a father like Sam. The opposite of my own in every single way. I’d known from the first time I’d