Class Mom

“Oh, my God! You are horrible. There should be a warning on your door.”

Over the next hour, our conversation is interrupted about thirty times by the doorbell. After something like the sixteenth ring, I lose my enthusiasm for torture and just hand out the candy. Except when I open to see a group of teenagers just standing there holding bags. No costumes, no trick-or-treat. This is my pet peeve. I’m sorry, but door-to-door candy gathering is for children, not semi-adults looking for sugar.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Uh, trick or treat?” one of them tries.

“Great! What’s your trick?”

“My what?”

“Your trick. The thing you do to get the treat.”

“Uh, we just came to get candy. Do you got any?”

“Not for people who don’t do a trick.” I smile.

“Do you mean, like, magic or something?”

“Sure. Do you know any magic tricks?”

“Uh…”

“Dude, let’s go,” says another teen. “She’s a bitch.”

I look at the kid who just spoke. There’s something …

“Robbie Pritchard? Is that you?”

“Oh, shit,” they all say.

The Pritchards lived next door to my parents for years.

“Did you just call me a bitch?” I ask calmly.

At that, they all turn and run off the porch like a pack of scared dogs.

“I’ll be calling your mother later,” I yell after them.

Peetsa just shakes her head. “I see you bring the same enthusiasm to everything that you do to being our class mom.”

“I know. I’m the worst.”

“You’re not the worst! I love your emails. I couldn’t wait to meet you. But I’m not surprised you piss some people off.”

“I didn’t even want to do it, but Nina knew it was the only way I was going to … Wait, who’s pissed off?”

Peetsa looks at her wineglass like it might have the answer.

“Umm … I don’t know, I’ve just heard a few people talking.”

I jump up.

“Who? What did they say? You have to tell me. I live for this stuff.”

Peetsa laughs. “You really are crazy.”

“I’m not! I’ve just been through this before, and I’m determined to get parents to lighten up.”

“Anyone who is even remotely cool totally gets your humor. You know who the stick-up-the-asses are—Asami, JJ, Kim Fancy, Ravital Brown…”

“Zach B.’s mom?” I ask, a little hurt.

Peetsa nods. “But I think she just doesn’t understand your sarcasm. She told me her husband has to explain all your emails to her.”

“Huh. Well, maybe I can win her over. Who else?”

“That’s all I know of. It’s a small but vocal bunch.”

“More wine?” I ask. I head to the kitchen, wondering how I can make an ESL person understand what snarky means.

“Sure, thanks. Hey, how’s your daughter?”

“Which one?”

“The slutty one.”

“Peetsa!” I scream in shock. “Please! We prefer ‘loose’ or ‘sleazy.’”

We both crack up.

“She’s doing fine. The nice thing about her generation is that they move on pretty quickly. Two days after her drama, some poor girl was snapped eating two hotdogs at once, so the spotlight is off Laura.”

“I still can’t believe you have two kids in college. Max must have been the shock of your life!”

I pour more wine for both of us and we head back to the chairs by the door.

“Not really. Ron wanted to have a kid.”

“Didn’t he already have two?” she asks, confused.

I inwardly cringe. This is the part I hate explaining to people.

The doorbell rings just as we sit down. Wow, sometimes you really are saved by the bell.

Peetsa jumps up.

“I’ve got it.”

She opens the door and I hear two little voices sing, “Trick or treat.”

“Do you have a trick to show me?” Peetsa asks them. I’ve taught her well.

Then a familiar voice says, “Hey, don’t we go to the same school?”

I nearly spit my wine out. Suchafox is at my front door! I jump up from my chair and sprint to stand beside Peetsa.

“Hey, guys!” I say a little too loudly. Lulu is dressed like a zombie bride, the other little girl is a nurse, and Don is wearing a cowboy hat. He looks perfect, of course. The butterflies in my stomach start doing a happy dance.

“Jen! No way. Do you guys live here?”

“I do.” Oh cripes, that giggle is back. “Peetsa is helping me out tonight. Do you guys know each other?”

“I definitely saw you at curriculum night,” Peetsa says to Don. She has a goofy smile on her face. “I’m Peetsa, Zach T.’s mom.”

“Peetsa?” Don asks, and once again I get a little glimpse into the hell that must be her world thanks to her unique name.

“Just like the food,” I offer. “P., this is Don Burgess. We went to high school together. Isn’t that crazy?” I giggle.

“Very,” Peetsa affirms.

I turn to him. “Do you live in this neighborhood?”

“No, we live west of here, but Lulu wanted to trick-or-treat with Rachel. It’s nuts. I don’t see you for, like, thirty years and now I see you all the time.”

“I know, right?” I giggle and offer the little girls the candy bowl.

“Wait!” says Peetsa. “What about the trick?” She turns to Don. “They’re supposed to do a trick to get a treat.”

“Really?” His look says it’s the dumbest idea he’s ever heard.

“Oh, P.!” Giggle. “Lighten up on the trick part, will you?” I smile at Don and shake my head like I don’t know what the hell she’s so uptight about. “Go ahead, girls.”

I avoid Peetsa’s glare as Lulu and Rachel dig into the candy bowl. They screech when the skeleton hand comes down to grab them and, after taking a handful of candy, they march down our front steps and onto the walkway. I glance toward Don and, for the briefest moment, I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. The thought is gone as quickly as it came, but I can’t help feeling a little uncomfortable. Peetsa interrupts my wayward thoughts.

“So you guys were friends in high school?”

“Well, we knew each other, but we didn’t really hang out,” I answer quickly.

“But there was one pretty significant moment in the P.E. laundry room.” He gives me a wry smile.

“Oh really?” She arches an eyebrow at me. “Tell me everything.”

Don lets out a guffaw. “And this is where I leave you!” He starts down the stairs to where the little girls are waiting for him. “See you around.”

I watch him walk away with what I’m sure is a ridiculous smile on my face. When I turn to go inside, Peetsa is staring at me.

“What?” I play dumb.

“That’s my question. What the hell was that all about?”

“He’s a father in our class.” I shrug.

“Yeah, so is Buddy, but you don’t act like that when he’s around. What was that giggle?”

I lead her back into the house while I explain.

“I had a huge crush on him in high school.”

“And apparently you still do.” She imitates my annoying giggle.

“P.! Be nice. He’s still so cute.”

“He must have been really something in high school.”

“He was such a fox.”

Peetsa bursts out laughing.

“God, I haven’t said that about anyone in years.” We sit back down on our chains. “So what happened in the P.E. laundry room?”

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