Bake Sale Brawl Read online

  “Hello Beatrice,” Carl Sweeney, Melody’s husband, greeted with a warm smile.

  “Carl! What are you doing here?” I asked, startled. “And you!” I exclaimed, noticing Danny standing behind his father.

  “Can I go bike riding with Danny, Mom?” Hunter asked eagerly as Carl’s smile broadened.

  “You came all the way home just to ask me that? Why didn’t you text or call?” I wondered aloud.

  “I thought it would be better to drop Hunter’s book bag off first,” Carl replied. “The kids will be tired after bike riding and then Hunter would have to lug that thing home. Plus, Hunter needs his helmet.”

  “Oh, that makes sense,” I murmured distractedly.

  “You’re welcome to come with us and have a cup of coffee. Melody will be home from grocery shopping in a little while,” Carl invited as I reflexively shook my head in refusal.

  “Thanks, Carl, but I just need some downtime.” Turning to my son, I instructed, “Be home by 6 for dinner. And then homework!”

  “Sure, Mom,” he replied brightly.

  “Go get your helmet!” I commanded as he nodded, scurrying off with his best buddy. “Good to see you, Carl. Tell Melody to call me later.”

  “Sure will, Beatrice. It was good to see you.” Carl gave me a strange, lingering look before turning around and chasing after the boisterous boys.

  Not even thirty minutes after they left, my phone rang. “Melody,” I whispered with relief as I looked at the Caller ID. “Hello?” I answered the phone with urgency in my voice.

  “Are you okay honey Bea? Carl told me to call you,” Melody said with concern.

  “No, I’m not okay, Melody,” I confessed, feeling on the verge of bursting into tears.

  “Talk to me, doll. Are you still upset about what happened at the bake sale?”

  “Yes, but not only that!” I paused and heaved an unsteady breath. “Someone sent a threatening note to me at the office today.”

  “Threatening? What do you mean?” She asked with audible concern.

  “I can’t explain. I just need to show it to you,” I said heavily.

  “Are you going to call the police?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s weird. The letter didn’t have an explicit death threat or anything, but the tone of it was very malicious. I just don’t understand who would do these things. Did I insult someone at the school? I mean, tell me Melody. Is there someone I need to apologize to for something?” I desperately drew at straws.

  “I don’t think so, honey Bea…well actually…oh, but no. I must just have a suspicious mind…” she trailed off uncertainly.

  “What? What are you thinking? Just say it!” I urged.

  Melody lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Well, you know how that science teacher is always trying to get your attention. Maybe he’s angry that you’ve been rejecting him. He is a lonely man, after all, Bea. And lonely people can do some crazy things!”

  Chapter 5

  “Robert Blynn?” I muttered in disbelief. “No, it couldn’t be him! I’ve been pretty polite to him…I think…” Remembering my curt rejection of his lunch invitation, I suddenly wasn’t so sure. I had practically sprinted away from the man, perhaps leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. But I had rejected his lunch invitation after my desserts were trashed. Still, he had been openly pursuing me for quite some time. Could Melody’s theory be right?

  “I wouldn’t rule him out. Some men can’t stand to be rejected. You know how fragile the male ego is,” Melody said disdainfully.

  “Yeah, but I think you’re way off base, Melody. Robert was acting very sweet to me today. He didn’t seem like he had something to hide,” I pointed out as Melody snorted.

  “Robert? You’re on a first name basis with the man?”

  “Well, yeah. He’s my colleague. It would feel silly to call him Mr. Blynn. Please, I have enough issues referring to Basil as Dr. Haggart!”

  Melody giggled lightly. “I know that one is a hard pill to swallow,” she mused. “Listen, honey Bea, I have to get dinner started, but you just call me if you need me, okay?”

  “I will. Talk to you soon.”

  Hanging up the phone, I felt at loose ends with how to tackle the rest of my evening. The floors were dusty and needed cleaning, but I wasn’t in the mood. Instead, I gathered a myriad of ingredients for my dinner with Hunter. My ex had insisted on a daily dose of meat and potatoes, but with him gone, I could be much more creative in the kitchen. Contentedly, I selected a recipe for creamy butternut squash risotto with mixed spring vegetables in balsamic vinaigrette. Homemade sour dough rolls would go perfectly on the side. As I immersed myself in the cathartic act of cooking, I almost forgot that someone was lurking in the shadows with a vendetta against me. Almost forgot…

  ***

  The next morning, I sat listlessly at my desk waiting for Raina to punch in. I needed to get more information from her about the envelope. But at five after nine, she was still MIA. Basil, however, was already on his second cup of coffee and dumping endless file folders on my desk.

  “Feeling better, Bea?” He asked without a shred of sincerity. “I hope so. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. I need you to help me do some more marketing for the charity gala next weekend. There’s still room for a few more couples to sign up…”

  “Charity gala?” I repeated blankly.

  “Yes, don’t tell me you forgot!” He said in a scolding tone. “Beatrice, we’ve been planning this for months!”

  I could feel my face turning raspberry red from my cheeks all the way to my earlobes. Even though I would never admit the truth to my pompous boss, I actually had forgotten all about the event. “Of course I didn’t forget. This is the biggest charity event of the year to benefit the art and music programs. Black tie at the Grand Hotel.”

  The Grand Hotel was everything its name implied: magnificent, elegant, and simply over the top. Boasting gorgeous waterfront views, the historic hotel had hosted a plethora of notable guests over the centuries, from Mark Twain to Thomas Edison to an assortment of American Presidents. Our charity gala would take place outdoors overlooking the charming Tea Garden and an Olympic size swimming pool. It would be the kind of night that was custom made for romance. And I would be going alone…

  “Beatrice?” Dr. Haggart snapped impatiently. “Have I lost you?”

  “No, I’m right here,” I mumbled. “I’ll get started on the marketing right away,” I assured as he nodded tersely and strode into his office.

  “Knock knock.” The door to the main office flew open as Robert Blynn greeted me with a boyish grin.

  “Good morning,” I said while multitasking and opening a new window to compose an email.

  “Busy?” He presumed.

  “Kind of. I have a lot of work to do for the gala.”

  “Oh, that’s right! It’s next Saturday, isn’t it?” He asked as I nodded. “Why don’t we go together?”

  The question rolled off his tongue so naturally that it caught me by surprise. “What? Us?”

  “Yeah, why not? It’s no secret that I’m single. And it’s no secret that you’re divorced.” He stepped in closer until he was hovering above my desk. In an intimate voice he added, “And it’s no secret that I like you.”

  There. He said it. The sentiments that I knew to be true were out in the open and couldn’t be reclaimed. Awkwardly, I said, “Robert, you’re very sweet, but you’re Hunter’s teacher. He really looks up to you. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that relationship.”

  “It’s almost summer, Beatrice. I won’t be his teacher next year. He’ll be in 6th grade and off to middle school. Why don’t you just give me a chance?” He paused and stared at me meaningfully as I wore a mask of indifference. “That ex-husband of yours really did a number on you, didn’t he? What was his name?”

  “I don’t say his name,” I informed brusquely. “And you’re being very unprofessional right now. Dr. Haggart is in his office and he might be able to hear this conversation. Besides, don’t you have a class to teach?” I asked pleadingly, desperate to get the man away from me. Robert definitely had an effect on me and if I let him, he could tear down my barriers one by one. But I most definitely would not let him.

  “My earth science class starts in five minutes,” he said curtly. “You won’t go with me to the gala? Okay, but at least save a dance for me, Beatrice.” He slipped out the door leaving me completely frazzled.

  Staring at my computer screen, I lost my train of thought and couldn’t remember what I had been poised to accomplish. “Marketing,” I muttered as the task illuminated in my mind.

  As I started to compose an email blast, Raina finally waltzed through the door. “Hey Bea! How are you feeling?”

  “Not great,” I said honestly. “Listen, do you know where that envelope came from before you put it in my inbox?”

  “Um, the mailroom,” Raina said as though I had asked an immensely foolish question.

  “And who delivered the mail yesterday? Who was it from the mailroom? Chip or Stewart?”

  “I think it was Chip, but I wasn’t really paying attention,” Raina said. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

  “Never mind,” I muttered, bolting out of my chair.

  “Where are you going?” She inquired.

  “To the mailroom. Someone is playing games with me, but I’m not going to let them win!”

  Chapter 6

  With all the grunt work Dr. Haggart tossed to me like a Frisbee on a daily basis, the mail room was a familiar place to me. I made at least two pit stops per day to the musty, windowless room. So when Chip, the gray mustached mailroom supervisor, spotted me walking in, he didn’t blink.

  “Mornin’ Beatrice. How are you on this fine day?” The good-natured mailman asked as he placed a large envelope on a scale. I had always joked that his name should be Chipper rather than Chip because he was so darn friendly all the time. But I was in no mood for joking on that morning.

  “I’m okay, Chip, thanks. Do you have a minute?” I requested gravely.

  “Of course I do. What can I do for you?” He politely stopped what he was doing and focused his attention on me.

  “This is just between you and me Chip, okay?” I prefaced in a whisper.

  “Oh-kay,” he said hesitantly. “What’s going on?”

  Sliding the threatening letter out of my purse, I presented it to him and let him read it for himself. His eyes narrowed as he read through the poem and he looked up at me with an expression of worry. “What’s this all about?”

  “I have no idea. That’s why I need your help. Do you remember anyone dropping that envelope off to the mailroom?”

  “This specific envelope? I’m sorry, Beatrice, but there are so many people coming through here every day. I don’t notice what they bring unless it’s a huge package that’s liable to break my old back!”

  “Well then, did you notice anyone suspicious here yesterday? Anyone different or out of the ordinary?” I pressed.

  “Can’t say that I did. But you’re assuming that the person dropped this letter off here. It could have come from anywhere in the school. Every classroom has a mail pick-up box and all the offices do as well.”

  “You’re right,” I sighed with frustration. “We really need to have some security cameras installed in this building. It’s like we’re living in the nineteenth century.”

  “Well, that’s Mackinac Island for you! People don’t live here because they want to keep up with the Joneses,” Chip said with a hearty laugh before turning serious again. “Maybe you ought to take that letter to the police.”

  “I don’t know if the police could help me. The message isn’t explicit enough.”

  “But it’s not a friendly message either,” Chip argued. “A lady like you living alone should be safe. I really think you should take that letter to the police.”

  Deflated, I tried not to fixate on the word “alone,” but it haunted me every time someone pointed out my newly single status. At the same time, it made me more determined to survive and thrive on my own without a man. I didn’t need a man at home to save me and I also didn’t need a cop at a police precinct to watch over me.

  “Thanks, Chip. I better get back to the office now.”

  “Just be careful,” Chip warned in a paternal manner as I escaped into the hallway.

  Quickly navigating the school and exiting into the courtyard, I begrudgingly made my way back to the daily grind. With any luck, Dr. Haggart would spend most of the day in meetings and wouldn’t bother me much. But luck didn’t seem to be on my side lately. Gloomily, I careened down the hall to the Superintendant’s Office and made a beeline for my desk. As I stood a few feet away from the desk, a sheet of red construction paper stood out among the piles of white and manila portfolios.

  Warily, I snatched the sheet of paper up and red a message printed in the same black Magic Marker as the poem:

  Try this number, go ahead, dial it right now…

  976-9393

  Have fun!

  Chapter 7

  Frightened but curious, I picked up my desk phone and dialed the number. A recorded male voice emerged on the line speaking in a seductive baritone:

  “Hey there hot lady, glad you called. You won’t be sorry because you’ve reached the sexiest studs your pretty little head can imagine…”

  Offended, I slammed the phone down and gritted my teeth. Someone was definitely playing games with me and I wasn’t amused. This latest antagonistic episode seemed more like a childish prank than the first two had. Suddenly, I wasn’t scared anymore. I was fuming mad. Marching the sheet of paper over to Raina’s desk, I demanded, “Who put this on my desk? You must have seen someone this time! Who put this on my desk while I was in the mailroom?”

  With doe-eyed innocence, Raina shrugged and replied, “Sorry Beatrice, but I don’t know. I stepped out to get a snack from the vending machine.” She gestured to a half empty pack of Reese’s Pieces on her desk.

  “That’s just great,” I muttered.

  “Why? What’s on that paper that’s got you so mad?”

  “Forget it!” I snapped. “Just do me a favor, okay? If you see anyone snooping around my desk, tell me right away. And if you see anyone in here who looks like they don’t belong, tell me!”

  “I will, but I wish you would just tell me what’s going on…”

  “I said forget it. Let’s get back to work.” I turned on my heel and walked mechanically to my desk.

  Sitting stiffly in my chair, I mentally shut out all the thoughts that were persistently racing through my mind and finally started the day’s work in earnest. The last thing I needed was to get fired for slacking off. Dr. Haggart wouldn’t understand my predicament and he wouldn’t care either. He would be only too happy to hire someone fifteen years younger and pay the person a lower salary. Anything to adhere to the tight school budget. The man didn’t even care about the purpose of the Grand Hotel gala. He wanted to schmooze and guzzle expensive champagne; saving the art and music programs was merely a sidebar.

  Indignation fueled my energy for the remainder of the morning as I accomplished all the most pertinent tasks. My thoughts drifted to Hunter as the bell rang to announce lunchtime. He had no idea how upset his mother had been the past 24 hours and I intended to keep it that way. Already traumatized by his father’s abandonment, Hunter needed to stay focused on his studies. As I was reflecting on my little boy, the sound of miniature footsteps echoed through the hallway.

  “Hi Mom!” Hunter exclaimed, popping his head into the office.

  “Hi sweetie!” I smiled as a wave of tension instantly washed away at the sight of my son.

  “Can Danny and me go to the deli for lunch?” He asked hopefully.

  “Didn’t I pack you a nice turkey sandwich for lunch today?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “No buts,” I said sternly. “You can get a bag of chips at the deli, but I’m not giving you money for lunch.” I handed a dollar to my son as he said, “thanks, Mom,” grinned and raced out the door.

  Wistfully, I stared after my son, trying to absorb some of his innocent jubilance. An unexpected image of Robert in a sleek tuxedo bounced through my mind. And I let it bounce right out. The gala was just business, much like Robert and me. Just business.

  Licking my lips pensively, I reached for an envelope and inserted the papers with the stud hotline and the sick poem. The threats needed to be gathered together in one place for easy access. Soon I might need them as evidence. I swallowed hard as the word “evidence” penetrated my consciousness. In my gut, I felt like the word was appropriate and that some crime was going to be committed against me. Was Chip right? Should I go to the police? Maybe, but I didn’t need to look like a clown showing up with such weak, borderline humorous threats. I was being harassed; that was certain. But was I really being threatened? As desperately as I wanted to answer that question, I knew that I could be in for a long, painful wait.

  Chapter 8

  The next week chugged along like an old Volkswagon Beetle in a snowstorm. Every morning I awoke anticipating a new threat, but each day surprisingly brought a reprieve as I wondered whether the prankster had given up.

  Robert was still making less than subtle overtures and I was still rigidly turning him down. As the gala night approached, I searched for a trustworthy babysitter for Hunter. Most of the people in my life would be at the gala, so it was no easy task to find a babysitter. Finally, I had to risk embarrassing my son and call Kerri Lorenson. Her little girl Stella was the object of my son’s affection at the moment and he would be mortified to spend the evening in her company. But Kerri was my only option.

  Kerri readily agreed to let Hunter spend the night at her house since she and her husband had opted not to pay the hefty price tag to attend the gala. As one of the primary organizers, AKA Dr. Haggart’s chief gopher, I had received a comp ticket. Otherwise, it would be just another Saturday night at home munching on popcorn and watching Under the Tuscan Sun for the hundredth time.