veterinary students, Mary Margaret's great-uncle Charlie and the guy who reroofed our house, to watch. They stayed with us for days waiting for that cat to have kittens.”
“We were kitty midwives, Molly, and, don't forget, that was a high-risk pregnancy,” Mary Pat said. “We witnessed the miracle of birth on your bed.”
“No, Mary Pat, what we witnessed was the creation of a stain that I can't get out of my pillow.” Molly looked around glumly. “But at least that was a one-time deal. You just know Irene's goingto encourage everyone to drag all those ugly beasts back to our house so she can teach them about the business.”
“Oh, Molly …” The voices of three horrified Marys chimed in. “You don't mean that. Not ‘ugly beasts.’”
“Okay,” Molly said grumpily. “The animals aren't all hideous, and I really like Claude the chameleon. But Irene will probably try to adopt a few of her new employees.”
“That's not an altogether bad thing, Mol. Look.” Mary Pat nudged her.
Molly looked across the table and felt her heart pound suddenly. There sat Jake Dempsey with one of Irene's business cards in his hand.
“Oh, well, then,” Molly said. “Maybe it won't be so horrible if Irene hires
some
people from school to work for her.”
“Molly, great news! We have a sub in English today,” Mary Bridget said, greeting her when she arrived in class with Irene. “And that's not the best part.”
“Mrs. Meyers?” Molly guessed.
“Yeah. How great is that? I bet you five dollars she doesn't even notice that Mrs. Flynn is old. No offense, Mrs. Flynn.”
“None taken, Mary Margaret.”
“Mary Bridget.”
“Whatever.”
Molly pushed Irene toward an empty seat in her row. Irene looked at Mrs. Meyers with a calculating eye.
“So,” she said to Molly, “tell me about this substitute teacher.”
“She's a ditz,” Mary Bridget said. “Whenever she fills in for any of our classes we have sustained silent reading time because by the time she figures out the lesson plan, the class period is over.”
“That's a huge waste of your valuable time,” Irene said. “Not the reading part, of course, which is always worthwhile, nor do I object to the fact that she deviates from the expected. But part of the reason you go to school is to share ideas with each other.”
“I thought you said that part of the reason we went to school is to fulfill the deal we have with society,” Mary Bridget said to Irene. “You know, the deal you were telling us about in which we work hard to grow up and cease to be pesky little kids anymore and if we're lucky we later get to pay income tax for that privilege.”
“That, too,” Irene answered, then began ticking reasons off on her fingers. “One, you go to school to make friends—IVe said that many times. Two, you go to learn how to become not pesky—once you're educated, it's called inquisitive. And three, you go to share ideas—which may well be the most important aspect of all. To ignore a perfectly good opportunity for discussion and debate is nothing short of criminal.” By the time she'd finished speaking, Irene's eyes were shining.
“Everyone likes quiet reading time,” Molly said hopefully. Uh-oh. Irene was sizing up the room.
Irene jumped to her feet and marched to the front of the class with a determined air.
She greeted Mrs. Meyers breezily. “Hello. I'm Irene Flynn, and with your permission, I'd like to teach this class today. Just until you straighten out the lesson plan, of course.”
“That would be very helpful.” Mrs. Meyers smiled up at her dimly. As Mary Bridget had predicted, Mrs. Meyers gave no indication that she found Irene's age or her request at all out of the ordinary. “I'll just try to figure out what we'resupposed to be doing this afternoon. I never can read the notes they leave me.”
“All right, then.” Irene rubbed her hands together as she faced the classroom. “What should we talk about today? What class is