Red’s Hot Honky-Tonk Bar by Pamela Morsi Page B

he’s not running around on them.”
    Red knew he was teasing her, but she was in no mood for it. “We’re supposed to be seeing each other less,” she reminded him. “So you being able to see someone else would be pretty much standard. I don’t need fidelity, just a rental contract.”
    There was a hesitation on the other end of the line.
    “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said before hanging up.
    Red snapped her phone closed and walked back inside. In the outer office, once again Ms. Sorenson didn’t notice her and she walked directly into Ms. Kilheeny’s office.
    “My…my landlord said he would be here in ten minutes.”
    “Fine,” the school administrator said.
    Olivia let out her breath as if she’d been holding it the whole time.
    “While we’re waiting, why don’t I give you a little tour of the school. The children can see their classrooms. And you can learn your way around, as well.”
    “Okay,” Red said.
    The school was bigger than Red had imagined from looking at the outside. It was clean and neat and inviting. As they walked through the hallways, Ms. Kilheeny pointed out the amenities of the ninety-year-old building. Although herwords were mostly directed to Red, it was Olivia who asked all the questions and made all the comments. They visited the library, the cafeteria and the gym as well as the classrooms for both Olivia and Daniel.
    At Olivia’s room, Ms. Kilheeny explained at great length all the new equipment and all the technical savvy that was fostered and encouraged.
    “This is our new ‘Elmo,’” the woman said with a girlish giggle, indicating a mechanical arm attached to the ceiling. “That’s short for elevated monitor. It lets our teachers share what’s on their computer with the whole class.”
    She directed her conversation to Red, possibly because Olivia wasn’t paying attention to her anymore.
    The girl walked around the room, silent, focused, intent. She surveyed everything critically, noting how the desks were arranged and what kind of markers were at the computer stations. She looked at all the bulletin-board presentations and the books on the shelves, the empty cage for the class pet and the stack of hall passes on the edge of the teacher’s desk.
    Long after Ms. Kilheeny fell silent, Olivia was still looking the place over. Finally she headed for the door.
    “Fine,” she declared, as if the adults were waiting upon her critique. “I can learn here.”
    In Daniel’s classroom they discovered his teacher, Mrs. Reardon, on her hands and knees surrounded by plastic containers in primary colors.
    “This is Daniel,” Ms. Kilheeny announced. “He’s going to be in your class on Monday.”
    The woman’s attention immediately went to the little boy, and her smile was broad.
    “Hi there, Daniel!” she said, louder and with more enthusiasm than was truly necessary. “I’m just putting together some task boxes. You want to help me?”
    The child gave only one uncertain glance toward his sister before stepping forward and settling in on the floor next to his teacher.
    “Mrs. Reardon has been teaching first grade here for fourteen years,” Ms. Kilheeny assured Red. “And twice she’s been our school’s choice for Teacher of the Year. You won’t have to worry about your grandson. Kids are crazy about her.” This last statement was added in a whisper.
    They hung around the brightly decorated room for several minutes as Daniel helped his teacher. He did whatever she told him without comment. Red was grateful that the language issue didn’t come up.
    Olivia got bored and was tapping her foot before they finally left, but Daniel seemed happier and more open. As they made their way down the hallway, both children appeared reassured and eager for Monday morning.
    Red was eager, too. She figured that with their day schedule and her evening schedule, she would hardly see them at all. And that would be for the best for everyone.
    She was just settling into the