The Mistletoe Melody. Jennifer Snow

come to the school?”

      Did she have a choice? “Yes, of course. I’ll be there soon,” she said. She disconnected the call.

      Outside in the parking lot, she struggled with the stubborn handle on the minivan, her anxiety making her oblivious to the bitter cold whipping through her long-sleeved, ribbed shirt. She’d forgotten her winter coat in her haste to leave the exam room and answer her vibrating phone. “Come on,” she muttered, yanking the handle and steadying herself as the door flew open. Inside, her hand shook as she shoved the key in the ignition and reached for her seat belt. The strap wouldn’t budge, and glancing down, she saw it was trapped in the door. “Seriously?” Swinging the door open again, she freed the seat belt and slammed the door shut.

      She tore out of the parking lot. The tires spun on a snowy patch and she cringed. She really couldn’t put off getting those winter tires any longer. Maybe she needed to allow Bailey to do them for free. If the boys got hurt because of the useless vehicle, she would be devastated.

      As she drove, her mind reeled. Her son was suspended. Of all things. Of all days. What possibly could have happened that would have warranted a suspension. Lost in thought, she almost didn’t hear the wail of a police siren behind her. That couldn’t be for her...but a glance at the speedometer confirmed it was. She checked the rearview mirror, hit the brake slowly and pulled the van to the side of the road. She rolled down the window and waited, rubbing her arms for warmth. The van’s heater was useless.

      “In a rush?” her father asked, coming up to the open window a minute later.

      As the town police chief, her father took his job seriously. She just hoped he’d give her a break this time. A speeding ticket was the last thing she needed. “Hi, Dad. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention to the speed.”

      “A tip? That’s not the best response to offer a police officer who pulls you over for dangerous driving, Melody.”

      “Sorry,” she mumbled, shivering.

      “Where’s your coat?” He frowned.

      “I forgot it at work—I’m on my way to Brookhollow Elementary,” she said reluctantly. Her family members were always offering unsolicited advice on her life choices and the way she was raising the boys. They criticized her independence, claiming she should ask for help more often.

      Her father’s face changed in an instant from annoyed cop to worried grandfather. “The boys okay?”

      She hesitated. She hated to tell anyone, including her family, if one of the boys had done something that appeared to be less than perfect. In their eyes, it was a reflection of her lack of parenting skills. “David has been suspended.”

      “What did he do?”

      She stiffened. Without the details, she refused to judge her son’s actions as being right or wrong. “I don’t know, but I’m on my way there now, Dad.”

      “Do you want me to come with you?”

      She shook her head. She didn’t want her son to feel ganged up on. The boys were close to their Grandpa Bishop, and she knew they would hate to disappoint him. Besides, having the town’s squad car parked in front of the school would just cause panic. “No, thank you. I’ve got it under control.”

      “Okay,” he said, “but please slow down. You’re lucky it was me on patrol.”

      Who else would it have been? Her father’s partner had retired two years before, and he’d been the only law enforcer in the town since. Finding a new sheriff was proving to be difficult. “You’re the only one in town.”

      “For now,” he said, sounding noncommittal. “Anyway, slow down. I will give you a ticket next time.”

      He didn’t make idle threats. “Okay. Oh, and, Dad, don’t say anything about David...”

      “You know I won’t. If you need anything...” He shrugged and shook his head. “You still won’t call,” he finished. “Bye, darling.”

      “Bye, Dad.” Melody rolled up the window and waited until he was back in the squad car before pulling the van onto the road. She wished her family could understand her need to do things on her own. It was against their advice that she’d started dating Patrick...and then married him. They’d claimed that as a musician, he didn’t have a steady income. When she’d gotten pregnant with the boys, they’d questioned his commitment to his family, what with him being on the road almost every weekend. But she’d believed in him. In them.

      Pushing the thoughts away, she parked the van in the parents’-pickup-only parking near the front of the school. She jogged through the slushy puddles of melted snow and ice in her running shoes, toward the entrance. Inside, she stomped her feet on the mat before making her way to the principal’s office. Michael Thompson sat on the bench outside the door, an ice pack pressed to his eye. Oh, no, she thought as realization dawned on her. The two boys had been on the outs lately. She’d noticed the looks between them at hockey practice, and David hadn’t invited Michael to their house since the first week of school. Come to think of it, Michael hadn’t attended the boys’ birthday party last month, either. “Hi, Michael,” she said.

      He ignored her, simply turning his tear-stained cheeks away.

      Entering the principal’s office, she saw David, head in his hands, slumped over in a chair across from the secretary. His eyes met Melody’s and a look of sadness flickered in them momentarily before it was replaced with stubbornness and anger. She was taken aback—she’d never seen such a look on his young face before. But she was relieved to see he wasn’t hurt. Michael was much taller and heavier than David.

      Melody directed her gaze at the secretary, Amy. “So what’s going on?” She resolved to give David the benefit of the doubt. Let him explain what had happened between Michael and him. Her own parents had always treated their children fairly in disciplinary situations, and it was a practice she’d adopted with her own children.

      “Principal Andrews has ordered a two-day suspension for David,” Amy said as she stood and slid the paperwork toward Melody.

      Melody stared at her. “Why?” She could guess, but she wanted to know for sure.

      “Physical violence against a classmate. The school has a zero-tolerance policy.” Amy pointed to that section of the report.

      That was all it said. No explanation of what had transpired between the boys to cause the fight. “Do we know what happened?”

      Amy shook her head. “It was during lunchtime, and the teacher on duty arrived after it occurred. Principal Andrews questioned David a few minutes ago, but David refused to say what had provoked him.”

      Well, something clearly had. Neither of her children had ever demonstrated violent tendencies before. Not even in sports. “Is Principal Andrews available?” Melody refused to sign the suspension form without first receiving more information. A suspension stayed on the child’s permanent school record—it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

      “He’s with the Thompsons now. I can schedule you for tomorrow sometime,” she said, glancing at her calendar.

      Melody had to work the following day at Play Hard Sports, and after running out on the exam, she couldn’t ask for more time off. “That won’t work. I’ll have to call in the morning to set up a meeting later in the week.” Inwardly, she winced. Because of her busy work schedule, things like this were always being put off—important things, things that should be top of her priority list. But then where would eating and having a roof over their heads fall?

      “Okay. I’ll still need your signature on the suspension form, though.”

      “I’ll sign it once I speak to Principal Andrews.” She turned to David. “Let’s go.”

      David stood, pushing the chair roughly against the wall behind him.

      “You’re on thin ice,” Melody warned.