Her old teacher released her. “Look at you, all grown and beautiful. My little

artist.” She turned to her smiling friends. “Katie was the best artist. Always drawing in class, leaving me little notes and pictures.”

The other women cooed and smiled.

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Mrs. Rooney continued. She looked up, head tilted, eyes closed, pointing with her finger. “You had a chair in the second row by the window. Half the time I'd call on you you'd be staring out the

window at Mrs. Malcom's flower garden or a bird or some such.” The other ladies tittered politely.

Okay, this was getting embarrassing. “Yes, that was me, I guess.”

Mrs. Rooney remembered more about her school days than she did.

“Yes, and when you weren't staring out the window you were staring at your

little friend Peter in the row next to you.”

Kate could feel her face warm. Yup, this was undeniably, officially

embarrassing.

“Little Peter, little Peter,” her teacher continued with a sigh. “You two were

inseparable. Always at recess together.” She whispered: “I once caught them holding hands by the monkey bars.” The other ladies tittered again.

This was getting out of hand. “Yes, well, that was a long time ago.”

“Little Peter, little Peter,” Mrs. Rooney said again, smiling and shaking her

head. “Although not so little anymore, now, is he?” She gave a nudge to one of

her friends, then returned her gaze to Kate. “And still an eligible bachelor, if I'm not mistaken.”

Kate just smiled. You're not, and someone get me out of here now.

Mrs. Rooney plowed on. “Eligible and handsome, if I might say.”

“And so polite,” a shorter woman contributed. “And a very good teacher, from what I understand. My grandson would have failed his class without his help. Came to his house to help tutor him.”

The other ladies nodded in approval. “I've heard the same from my

granddaughter, Stacy. She loves his class, and she never liked science at all.”

Yes, terrific, we all agree that Peter is a great guy and a fantastic catch. Let's all start a Peter club. You can be President. Now, how do I get out of here?

Kate looked to Carol for help, but only got an approving smile and nod.

“Have you been able to see Peter while you're here?” Mrs. Rooney

continued. “He's just next door, you know.”

No kidding. “Oh, yes, I've seen him once or twice.”

She caught Mrs. Rooney staring at her ring finger for a moment. “You,

know, I imagine someone will be snapping him up soon. He can't stay single forever.”

“I'm sure someone will,” Kate said, hoping her agreement would end the

topic.

No such luck.

“I've seen him with that Penny Fitch a few times,” one of the ladies said.

What? Peter hadn't said anything about that. Or Carol…

Mrs. Rooney nodded. “Oh, yes. And her being divorced and all, I'm sure she's on the prowl.”

Divorced? On the prowl? An image of Penny with wild black hair and

fingers like claws popped into her head.

“Oh, now, Rose, don't start any rumors,” Carol said.

“Well, you never know. None of us are getting any younger.” More titters and nods. “And, as I said, he's the town's most eligible bachelor.”

Carol came forward. “Well, ladies, I suppose we should get to it.”

“Yes, it was nice to see you all again,” Kate said, backing away.

The bevy of ladies began moving into the dining room, their chatting picking up where it had left off.

Kate quickly picked up her things and headed for the front door. She hadn't

run a gauntlet like that in a while. The weird thing was, aside from the embarrassing prodding about Peter, it was nice to see everyone. At least Carol had a group of friends to hang out with. All she had were Saturday night Netflix

binges and the occasional after-work pizza with a few co-workers.

She'd have to have a talk with Carol later about all this. Penny Fitch? What

was that all about? Just a bunch of ladies trying to start a rumor?

Well, she had more important things to do than worry about Peter's social life. And the Thread Heads confirmed it. He was doing well here. Not only well,

but he was actually helping kids. Just like he'd said last night.

She glanced at her watch as she shouldered her way out the front door and