by E. Ayers
“We hope. If it doesn’t, he doesn’t have many options. The biggest problem is surviving the surgery. That’s why this new technique is so important. It will not only cut the surgical time down, but it will be easier on him, because it’s less invasive than traditional open heart surgery.”
Cassie watched the woman’s eyes fill with tears.
“We don’t want to lose him.” Robin grabbed a napkin and blotted her eyes.
Cassie reached over and touched the woman’s arm. “I can’t imagine being in your shoes, but I understand. He’s precious.”
They chatted for a few more minutes about less important things, until Trent reappeared.
“He’s in bed. He’s also not about to forget your offer of another book.” Trent pulled out a kitchen chair and sat. “Want more iced tea?”
“No thanks. I’ve had plenty. I - I probably should be going. I've taken up too much of your time.”
“Not at all." He grinned. "Would you care to take a walk? I can’t offer much to you.”
“A walk sounds nice.” She smiled back. “In fact, it would be perfect.”
They stepped out the kitchen door, and into the backyard, landscaped with rosebushes. Trent offered her his hand. “I’d like to take you someplace more exciting than on a walk around our neighborhood.”
“A walk is fine. I don’t need to be entertained. I tend to live a quiet life. I work and I sleep. I’m so in need of a vacation.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve been trying to sneak a few extra days in with Shawn. I can’t afford to do very much.”
They walked around the house to the sidewalk in the front. That's when a thought sprang into Cassie's mind. “Has Shawn ever been to the beach?”
Trent shook his head.
“I have an idea. I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me. I keep telling myself I want to run away to a remote island and sip pina coladas all day, but I’d be more than willing to settle for a vacation at a nearby beach. Would you come with me and bring Shawn? We could drive down on a Friday night and come home late on Sunday. It would give him two days at the beach.”
“I can’t afford it.”
“I’m not asking you to pay for anything. It would be my treat. I’ll get a hotel room with two beds. You can sleep with your son. I’m certain it’s only a few dollars more, and I need the break. Shawn can play on the beach, and I’ll get a much needed vacation.” She looked at the small houses all lined up in rows. It seemed as if each one was competing for best yard.
“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t accept such an offer.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t have you pay for us to stay at the beach with you, and I can’t afford it.”
“Trent, please. Allow me to do this. It’s not much, but I think we’d all enjoy it. Shawn is adorable, and I’d like to see him have a little fun, before he goes to the hospital.” Say yes!
***
He stopped and turned to her. How could he ever explain his feelings, especially to someone like her? “Shawn is my life. You’ve been very generous towards us, but I can’t--”
“Swallow your pride, Trent, and allow me to do this. You have a precocious little boy who needs to have some special time with his daddy. I need a break, and if we do it together, it’ll be fun. Do you really think I want to spend hours on the beach with no one to talk to the entire time? We'll do it as friends.”
Friends? “It’s still an imposition.”
“No, it’s not. Just say yes.”
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, but when her lips touched his, he knew his answer was yes.
***
“Tate, where’s the nearest nicest beach?” Cassie asked.
“Oh, that’s a tough question. There are several. Why?”
Cassie explained the situation.
“I know exactly who to ask. Dallas Nixon’s in-laws live at the beach. I’ll call them and I’ll call you back.”
Cassie thanked her friend and returned to her problem at hand, a dozen mummified remains. She had over a hundred impressionistic paintings arriving as the dinosaurs left, and no way to tie the two exhibits together. Lost in thought, the ring of her phone made her jump.
She steadied her momentarily frazzled nerves and took a deep breath as she picked up the phone. “Dr. Jones speaking. How may I help you?”
“You ordered the ancient Egyptian mummy and artifact collection?”
“Actually, my predecessor did.”
“I’d like to apologize. The other half of your shipment went to California. We’ve tracked down where they are, and you should have them by the middle of next week.”
“Thanks. Ah, what exactly is still coming to me?” She listened to the man and breathed a sigh of relief. “Can you fax that to me?”
“Certainly. It’s not King Tut, but it is still an exciting collection.”
“Excellent. And we’ll have the exhibit until July 31?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for calling. I was very concerned about showcasing what I had received thus far. I’m relieved to know there is more.”
“I’m faxing the information as we speak, including the website where you can get everything you will need.”
“Thanks.” Cassie hung up the phone. A wave of relief flooded her system, but knowing she had two very different exhibits that would run concurrently was still a problem. Something for everyone. From mummies to mums? Mums the Word. She rubbed her forehead. Why did I take this job?
~~4~~
Cassie hung up the phone, smiled, and dialed Trent’s house. When it rang for the seventh time, she gave up and disconnected the call. It would have to wait. She had a meeting with the city manager in ten minutes. She de-cluttered her desk, and ran a brush through her hair.
She wasn’t going to get out of the museum until late, as it was interim report card night. The entire staff braced for what they hoped would be a stellar turnout. Any child with an "A" could come in free when accompanied by an adult, and Friday evening would be Teen Stomp, a mini version of the opening gala, but with a room set aside for the kids to lounge, listen to music, and play games, all sponsored by a local company.
Glancing over her calendar, she heard a knock on her office door. “Come in.”
Hugh Fitzgerald’s height and bulk made him stand out in a crowd, but seeing him in her cramped office, he appeared even larger. She smiled politely, and extended her hand to him. “Welcome.”
“I’m not here for a friendly chat. You’re over budget!”
She raised her eyebrows. “What budget? I’ve asked to see my budget, and not one person seems to be able to give me anything in writing. I want a line item budget. When you produce that for me, I’ll be more than willing to sit down and go over everything with you, but until then, I think we can shelve this discussion.”
“And what the hell is this?” He poked his finger a little too close to the animal remains.
“Don’t touch it! It’s a mummified cat.” The color draining from his face was worth watching.
“Ugh! What’s it costing us?”
“Nothing yet. In fact, I don’t believe any of these shows have cost the city a dime. They are paying their way.”
“Not according to the bill I saw this morning.” He gestured with his thumb at the door behind him. “Your dinosaurs cost a small fortune.”
“I know exactly what they cost, and that money was recouped with the Dino Tread Gala. You’re looking at one side of the ledger. Our tills have quadrupled with the visitors coming to see that exhibit. You want River City to have a little culture? It’s going to cost!" Her insides tightened as her anger rose. "And I’m doing everything I can to bring in some top-notch exhibits, and have them pay for themselves. Bring me a budget, because I’ve never seen an electric bill for this place.”
“I’ll send you your budget, and you’re going to find your neck in a noose.”
She pushed her chair back and slowly stood. Placing her palms
flat on the desk, she stared into the city manager’s eyes. “Bring it on, Hughie, because your scare tactics aren’t going to work with me. I’m not Bill Krumpler, and I’m not caving. Remember, you guys came to me and asked me to take this job. Then you throw me to the lions and expect me stay on some nonexistent budget. Get out of my office, Hughie, because I don’t have time for this.”
He strode out the door and slammed it in his wake. She shuddered, then closed her eyes. Go to hell, Hughie Fitzgerald!
***
Several times Cassie looked at her watch, wanting to call Trent, but she didn’t have time. And when Jim from River Lights appeared, she smiled brightly. That local weekly magazine had a lot to do with the success of the museum’s exhibits. Its articles, under the guise of a sneak preview were the reason for the museum’s recent success.
“Hi, Cassie. This place is hopping.”
“You’ve made it possible. I hope you will always be supportive of our efforts.”
“Do you have a head count for tonight?”
“No clue, and I won’t know until tomorrow.”
“I’d like some numbers.”
“I’ll fax them over to you. Are you going to be here for teen night?”
“I wouldn’t miss that for anything. Do you think you’ll get a good crowd?”
“Good is the operative word. But with Riverton Fun House sponsoring it, I think it should be very successful. They’re bringing in every table game they sell: Foosball, Air Hockey, you name it, and it’ll be here. Plus they are bringing several new, touch-screen, table games. They are the hot new things in computers. It should be a blast.”
“Do you have enough chaperones?”
“I think we do. But if you’d like to act as chaperone again, I’ve got an idea forming for my next exhibit.”
“What’s that?”
“A Lock-In.”
“Huh?”
“An all night lock-in at the museum.” She lowered her voice a few notches. “Bring your pillow and be prepared!”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I have lots of fun things planned. In fact, I’m working on an idea to make these special events a regular thing. It’s not just a matter of bringing in a few people once in a while, but to have regular participation from the community. Here’s the dilemma. A father might bring his son to see dinosaurs, but will he bring that same child to see French Impressionist’s paintings?”
Jim shrugged. “Hmm, it’s not exactly something that will appeal to a younger crowd.”
“But it can. Exposure to all of our rich history is so important. It doesn’t mean that everyone is going to like everything, but if they can learn to appreciate and respect it, then I’ve done my job.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Membership. Other museums do it, and it’s successful. Buy a membership and visit all year long. Then these members get free or discounted passes to monthly events, such as our teen night.”
Jim nodded. “Sounds like a great idea. Think of all the homeschoolers that could use this as part of their curriculum.”
“I’ve already thought of that, and I’m taking it one step farther. The critical learning objectives mandated by the state are easily translated into what we have to offer. Starting in August, every brochure will list the objectives covered by each exhibit. I’m meeting with the school board next week, because the schools need to take advantage of what is here.”
“Is that something that I may attend? I’d like to hear what they have to say.”
“My understanding is that all school board meetings are open to the public. It’s not a private session. And I'd love to have you there.”
Jim looked around. “This place is packed with people.”
“To be honest, I’d like to open the doors to all the children who got D’s and F’s in History, because they are the ones who need their minds tickled. They need to get excited about what came before them.”
“Play with that idea. You just might have something.”
***
The next morning, Cassie grabbed a handful of keys from her desk. The museum had once been River City High School, and had sat idle for several years until Bill Krumpler convinced the city to turn it into a museum. She unlocked a heavy door and opened it. Stale air laced with the smell of concrete and rusting iron assaulted her. She ascended the steps and opened another set of doors on the unused portion of the second floor. Fifteen classrooms sat idle. Oak floors and old lockers brought back memories of the high school she had attended. Big windows bathed bright light onto the rooms. I can do this! And they think I’m over budget? Wait until they hear this. I need a miracle.
***
The single, sharp knock on Cassie’s office door followed by the turning of the doorknob, instantly told her it was Mrs. Winston.
“This came for you from Fitzgerald’s office.”
“My budget?”
Mrs. Winston nodded. “Yes, and it’s not good.”
“That’s impossible. We’re doing very well.”
“Not according to this.” She passed the faxed pages to Cassie.
“Thanks.” She took the papers and quickly skimmed through them. “Where are our bank deposits?”
“This is a budget, not a ledger.”
“I want our bank statements.”
Mrs. Winston pushed her glasses up on her nose. “We don’t get those. They go directly to the city’s accounting office.”
Darn! “Do you keep copies of what we do?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I want all of it for this entire year.”
Mrs. Winston raised her eyebrows. “A fiscal year or a physical year?”
A sigh escaped. “Which one is longer?”
“Fiscal. It ends in June.”
“Good. That’s what I want.” She shot Mrs. Winston her best smile.
It was after lunch when Mrs. Winston returned with copies of every check they had written and all the deposits, along with copies from a small ledger where the woman had recorded every transaction. Her small script with tiny flourishes revealed her age, and her dedication to her job.
Cassie poured over the paperwork and came to the conclusion that she wanted bank statements. Getting any such thing out of City Hall would take weeks, so she called the bank.
“What?” Her mind tried to wrap around what she was told. “My deposits go into the general coffer? But our checks and deposit tickets say The Museum of River City.” “I see. Thank you.”
She hung up the phone and then ranted, “Bill Krumpler, I hate you! You probably kissed their butts for every little increase they gave you in the budget, and you never bothered to look at what you were doing.”
She pushed her chair back and stared at the door separating her from the museum traffic. Maybe I should call the University and tell them I’m coming back fulltime. I’ve kept my foot in the door when I promised to teach two classes a semester. Do I really want to go back to grading tests and term papers? What have I gotten myself into? I need a vacation and time to think! Oh my gosh, Trent. I’ve got to call him.
She was about to pick up the phone when it rang. “Dr. Jones, how may I help you?”
“You’ve got visitors in the lobby.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” I don’t need another interruption. I want to call Trent.
She walked down the hall to the lobby and was pleasantly surprised to see Trent and Shawn standing there. Shawn broke into a full run when he saw her, and she braced for an impact that never quite happened. She scooped Shawn's skinny body into her arms and carried him back to his dad.
“Hi. Shawn wants to take you up on your offer. He’s bugged us non-stop since the other night.”
She lowered the boy to the floor. “Go pick out whatever you want. I want to talk to Daddy.”
“I told him one book.”
“He can have whatever he wants.”
Trent caught his son by the shoulder. “One book. That’s all.”
>
Cassie rolled her eyes. “He’s a little boy. Let him have fun.”
“He’s four, and he wants one of everything.”
“That’s normal.” She put her hand on Trent’s sleeve. “If you don’t mind, we can sit over here. I just need to speak to Gail in the gift shop for a second.”
“One book, ma'am. Don’t go against me.”
She nodded and stepped into the gift shop. “Gail, Shawn Callahan is allowed to pick out one book, but if there’s something else he really wants, put it aside for me. He can be in here alone. He’ll be fine without an adult.”
Gail made a face, but Cassie ignored it and went back to Trent.
“I was going to call you when I was told I had visitors. I meant to tell you last night, but Jim from River Lights stopped by, the place was crawling with people, and we had two toilets stopped up before the night was over, so I’m so sorry to be getting back to you this late, but here’s what I’ve come up with for a weekend at the beach.”
“I’m not going to have you treating us to a vacation.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did it ever dawn you that by coming with me you’re making my weekend better?”
“I’m not going to have you pay for some fancy hotel for us, and I can’t afford it.”
“Well, consider this. I have an offer from a friend of a friend. Do you know Dallas Nixon?”
“I know who she is, but I don’t know her.”
“Okay, this is complicated. Dallas is married to Rick Makowllen, and his parents live at the beach. Next weekend, they are coming up here for a golf tournament and will be staying with Rick and Dallas. They want us to stay at their beach home.”
Trent shook his head.
“No, really. It’ll be fine. They have two guest rooms, and when they found out it was Shawn, they were excited. They want us to come. They live a few blocks from the beach, not actually on the beach, but within easy walking distance.”
“I’m not taking the hospitality from someone I don’t know.”
“Trent, be reasonable. You might not know them, but I do. Karen Makowllen is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. I didn't realize the Makowllens lived at the beach. But I do know they were big contributors to your son’s fund.”