My Seoul Man

Chapter 5

That mention of my mama brought me back to reality right quick.

"Nobody makes 'em like Sadie's, though," I told her. Adding a cobbler to my mental Sunday dinner menu...

"I bet you had the whole town there yesterday, too," she said. "I was thinkin' about you the whole time we were down in Phoenix."

"Well, it was meant to be mostly close family and friends, but we did have a nice sized crowd. How's your Dad, though? Did you find out how he fell like that? Nasty lookin' bruise..."

She smirked and said, "My brother needs to spend more time at that damned nursing home is all! Patients whose families visit a lot get better care. But that snooty little wife of his just—"

She was interrupted by the quavering voice of the 75-year-old clerk in the Superintendent's office bleating: "Please pardon the interruption. But the Superintendent would like to see all department heads in the Board Room immediately. That's all department heads to the Board Room, immediately."

Clarice and I both said, "Shit," and exchanged glares.

And just as I was pondering whether to take some of that cobbler with me, there was a loud knock on the door. And Clarice waddled over with a "Who the hell?" frown and startled when she found a student clerk there holding a box of Dunkin' Donuts and a little folded up note...

Clarice took both, read something on the front of the folded note and came trundling over to just stand there waiting for me to open said note. Shameless hussy...

So, I said, "Guy one of my aunts invited to the party—you know how they do," as I stuffed the note into my pocket like I really meant that.

And on her way back to her desk she said, "Well, at least they're trying. You act like you're allergic to men."

"Yeah, the man who gave me that allergy showed up yesterday, by the way. On his way to New-effing-York, apparently."

She lit up a little and cried, "You're kidding!"

But her eyes dimmed when I said, "Wish I was." And I was doing a pretty good acting job until I read, "Coffee later? BABE?" on that note and couldn't stifle the smile entirely.

But I managed to recover enough to offer: "Said he wanted to stop by and offer his condolences. Blaine."

"Well, maybe he's had some time to think. And to miss you, too."

"He's running out on the lease, Clarice. And he actually had the nerve to ask me if Mama Sadie left me any money—lemme go find out what the hell's going on..."

I grabbed the donuts, pocketed that message and sashayed on over to the Board Room where I sent a Sure! What time? text back to AJ to distract myself from the grim faces behind the long table in front.

After we were all assembled and all the donuts had been snatched up by staff members, Superintendent Carol Givens—yeah, distant cousin to Clary, you guessed it—stood up stiffly and glanced at the clip board that was trembling a little bit in her hands. Not a good sign.

But then Carol's hands always trembled like that. After nearly 40 years as a teacher and administrator, she'd finally risen to the district's highest position at a time when people no longer respected teachers or administrators the way they had back when she'd really wanted that job.

After spending most of her days being cussed out by parents and condescended to by various staff and state officials she'd begun to resemble a shell-shocked rabbit. That day her face was so pale that I feared she'd finally taken a tongue lashing she might not bounce back from.