Death of a PTA Goddess Read Online Free PDF Page A

think.”
    I’d thought “pasties” were those half-dollar-sized stickers that strippers wore to “cover” themselves; must be a dual definition because baked goods would never do the trick. Not even if the baked items were sticky buns. “Okay, but I’ve got to warn you, I’m not a big fan of corned beef.”
    “Fair enough. We’ll trade warnings. Mine is to be careful. The cheese-and-beef innards are hot.”
    I bit into one of the flaky little treats and was rewarded with a wonderful blend of flavors, so much so that I didn’t mind that, as forewarned, the insides seared my mouth a little. “Yum! Patty, this is delicious! Where did you get the recipe?”
    “It’s my own spur-of-the-moment concoction.”
    “Have you had any of these, Susan?” I asked.
    “I’m a vegetarian.”
    Patty chuckled and said teasingly, “You are
not
.”
    “During Lent I am. I gave up meat.”
    “I guess your giving up booze doesn’t count,” Patty said.
    Though Patty’s voice had been completely casual, Susan stiffened and gave her a hateful glare. Surprised, I did a double take, not understanding the significance of the remark. Despite her moniker, Patty was, of course, not perfect, but I’d never heard her say anything hurtful before. Yet she’d obviously injured Susan’s feelings just now.
    “Here, let me help,” Chad said to Patty from across the room. He took the tray from her. “Don’t worry. As long as I keep both hands on the plate, I won’t be able to eat them all myself.”
    “Thank you, Chad,” Patty said. “Molly, could you come help me bring out one of the bowls of popcorn?”
    “I’d be happy to,” I said, following her into the kitchen, but casting a longing look at the pasties. Counting the yet-to-arrive Stephanie and, surely, Jane Daly, who never missed a PTA meeting and was an arts-and-crafts guru and self-appointed decorating-committee goddess, there would be seven of us non–Lenten vegetarians versus two dozen pasties. No way would they last until I had the chance to return.
    I grabbed one of the two large bowls of popcorn from the kitchen counter. “The popcorn’s got green sprinkles on it,” I couldn’t help but note with a smile.
    “That’s the salt. Hang on a moment. I think I’d better sprinkle a little more on before you take it out.” Patty grabbed a shaker of bright green salt and started an elaborate procedure of tossing and sprinkling. “Green salt was the only way I could think to make popcorn seasonal.”
    “Seasonal seasoning,” I mused. Looking into Patty’s blue eyes, I asked, “Do you mind telling me why we’re here tonight?”
    Patty frowned. “It’s going to be movie night, I’m afraid. Hence the popcorn. Stephanie Saunders objected greatly to the tape that the kids in Kevin Alberti’s government class produced.”
    That explained why he was here tonight. “They finally got their camera? I’m glad to hear it.” They’d lobbied the Carlton PTA for funds to pay for a video camera for months now.
    “According to Stephanie, if you still
are
glad after you see the tape, that will make one of us. Well, two, counting me. I happen to support freedom of speech, regardless of whether or not it makes people uncomfortable. Stephanie complains that she wasn’t portrayed in the best possible light.”
    I scoffed. “I’ve known Stephanie Saunders for years. Chances are that’s nobody’s fault but her own.”
    Patty raised her eyebrows and shrugged, and I reminded myself that Patty did not partake in gossip, which I, sorry to say, was very capable of lowering myself to. In fact sometimes I was a regular hot dog: doing so with relish. I winced at my own unspoken pun, chalking it up to an occupational hazard.
    “I wasn’t about to censor the kids, so I have no idea what they actually filmed. I haven’t even seen their recording myself.”
    “That’s surprising,” Stephanie said, suddenly behind us, still in her coat. “Because the students themselves tell