Chapter 36

"You've got to be kidding."

Robbie grinned, then shook her head. "It's perfect for your next song in the Spring Concert."

"But..."

"After all, you're the Donny Osmond fan."

I sighed. "I made one little comment about him going from teen idol to game show host. That doesn't exactly make me the president of his fan club. Does he still have fan clubs?"

Robbie grinned again. "Sure. Teachers, librarians, and waitresses in their fifties who go home, put on their old mini-skirts, and..."

"No, thanks. Not an image I need before I go to bed." Tami was on an overnight field trip, and Robbie was walking the park with me. She'd brought her MP3 player and had just played me a song.

Robbie shrugged. Evidently images like that didn't bother her.

"But C'mon Marianne?" I complained. "And it was disco."

"It's perfect. Besides, it was a Four Seasons song before Osmond got a hold of it. And you need to do something different to shake things up. The line: 'It was a passing thing, not a burnin' thing.' For a week before the show we'll have Tami completely ignore you while you beg and plead. Then she can stand on stage as if you didn't exist while you sing. Everybody will be wondering who the passing fling was."

I could imagine it, certainly better than the fifty-year-old teachers in mini-skirts. "Welllll, just as long as I don't have to have a real passing fling with somebody."

Robbie grinned again. "I'll be your passing fling."

I grinned back. "You, my lady, could never be a passing fling. You'll always be a burning thing."

Robbie's grin got bigger at the compliment, then her face went blank. "As long as you're not calling me a rash."

I smiled enigmatically. I'd been practicing. It didn't work with Tami, she'd read my mind, but maybe with Robbie...

"At least we get a day off."

I knew before I said it that it wouldn't help.

"It's not raining that hard. We could have practiced."

I knew Robbie was right. The rain coming down on the parking lot in front of us was barely a sprinkle. We'd practiced and played in worse. "I think the coach just wanted a day off. Maybe he figured we all deserved one."

Robbie looked at me, then back at the barely damp parking lot. "Yeah, but..."

"Robbie, we're two thirds through the season and haven't lost a game yet. And in league, we haven't won by less than three. I think we can afford to miss a practice."

"I guess." She didn't sound convinced.

"Would it help if I pointed out that you two have already broken the state record for double plays?" Tami suggested.

Robbie grinned and put her arm around Tami's waist. "I knew I always liked you.

"I like you too," Tami said, her arm going around me, but instead of finding it's way into my back pocket, it slid into my front.

"And the bonus is, Mr. Hollowell has been bugging me for weeks about the three of us meeting with Mrs. Bryant and him, and now we can do it." Tami's fingers found my car keys and pulled them out. She flipped them to Robbie, who snatched them out of the air. "Why don't you take Mustang Sally and we'll meet you there."

"We will?" "What?" Robbie and I said together.

"What's the idea?" Robbie asked, frowning at the keys.

Tami's hand had found it's way to it's accustomed place and she gently guided me out the door.

"I've got my own personal Fred Astaire, and it's a perfect day for him to serenade me," Tami said over her shoulder as she walked me toward the side of the building.

"I think you mean Gene Kelly," I said after I'd followed her twisted logic to the end.

"Whatever. Sing boy."

"I just hope you don't expect him to dance," Robbie called after us.

"I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain.
What a glorious feeling, I'm..."

"Have fun?"

Robbie was waiting for us just inside the middle school.

Tami and I looked at each other and grinned. "Yeah, we did," we said together.

Robbie shook her head and led us to the teacher's lounge. "Mr. Hollowell said it was okay. There's already something going on in the conference room."

Robbie opened the door and walked in. I followed, but it seemed wrong. This was a hallowed place, only for teachers. I know respect has never been my strong suit, but I couldn't help waiting for a lightning bolt to smite us.

Robbie had no such problem. She walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a Coke, and plopped down in a overstuffed chair. I looked at Tami, who seemed as off-balance as I was. We ignored the refrigerator and sat together on the couch. Robbie shook her head and smiled.

It was a few minutes later when Mr. Hollowell and Mrs. Bryant came in. Mr. Hollowell pointed Mrs. Bryant to a chair, then went to the fridge and got pops for them both. He looked at me, and I shook my head. I guess Tami must have too, 'cause he sat down in another chair.

"Mrs. Bryant, I don't know if you know our distinguished alumni. This is Robbie Tate," he said nodding at my favorite redhead. "Varsity football and baseball, the recent play contest and one of the best GPA's in the high school."

Mrs. Bryant smiled. "I'd have to live in a cave not to know about Monster Girl. I think both my boys have crushes on her."

"Mrs. Bryant has two boys in the middle school," Mr. Hollowell explained. "Dalton is an eighth grader and Michael is in sixth. Then she has a girl in fifth."

I think Kelly went out with a Dalton Bryant for awhile, so she and Traci would both know him.

"Then this is Tony Sims," Mr. Hollowell continued the introductions. "Also football, baseball, and the play. And almost as good a student as Robbie." Obviously he hasn't been following the class standings. Either that or he knew something I didn't about the new standings coming out Friday.

"And finally, Tami Sharp. She doesn't play football or baseball, but she has a popular column in the paper."

"I wouldn't miss it," Mrs. Bryant said and seemed sincere.

"Mrs. Bryant is the president of the Parent Teachers Organization."

Damn, another benefit. I was starting to feel used.

"Thank you, Mr. Hollowell. Like he said, I'm this year's president of the P.T.O., and we'd like your help." The look Robbie passed me indicated she'd come to the same conclusion I had.

"I wanted to talk to the three of you because you're all role models. With your football and baseball, you," she indicated Robbie and me, "inspire all the sports nuts, yet you both have good grades too. And I know a lot of kids who don't bother to read your column," she looked at Tami, "think it's cool that their parents and teachers do. In some ways, you're the best role model of all because even though you're still a teenager, a, pardon the expression, kid, you're already making it in the adult world." I patted Tami on the knee to add my agreement. But if she was talking role models, maybe we weren't talking about a performance. Besides, Tami doesn't sing.