The Fixer Upper by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online Page B

him, “and nowhere near as many applications as we get for the kindergarten class. Your son has as good a chance of getting in as anyone else. A better chance, probably. A much better chance than a cow swimming to France.”
    “And why would that be?” he asked.
    “He wrote his own application, for one thing.” She tapped the folder without opening it. “I’ve received hundreds of applications this fall, and Eric’s was the only one that gave me a genuine feeling for who he was. All the others were written by anxious parents. Your son had the guts to write his own application. That’s worth a few points in my book.”
    “He’s got more than guts,” Ned said. “He’s smart and funny.” And he’s got his heart set on this damn school.
    “According to his application, he can’t sing very well.”
    Ned was surprised that she could say that without refreshing her memory by skimming Eric’s application. “Is singing required for the Hudson School?” he asked cautiously.
    “Only if Eric goes out for the chorus. Tell me some more about him, Mr. Donovan.”
    What should he say? He could tell her Eric was the most wonderful boy in the universe, but he somehow doubted she would view his opinion as objective.
    “In his application,” she said, helping him out, “he mentioned that he used to live in Vermont.”
    Ned nodded. “We moved this past summer. He loves the city, but he’s not crazy about his public school. He told me….” Ned sighed. Eric’s words twisted like a key inside him, releasing worry. “He told me he sees students leaving Hudson at the end of school and they all look so happy. That’s what he wants—to leave school feeling happy. He also likes theafter-school programs you offer. He’s not crazy about his babysitter.”
    “He’s what, ten?”
    “You’ve got a good memory.” He glanced at the unopened folder.
    “Ten’s a difficult age when it comes to babysitters. My daughter’s thirteen, so I have an idea what you’re going through. Ten-year-olds feel they’re old enough to be babysitters and way too old to have babysitters.” She flipped the folder open, then shut, too quickly to have actually read anything. “He said you’re a fixer upper.” Her voice rose, turning the statement into a question. “I was a little confused by that. Isn’t a fixer upper a house that’s falling apart?”
    “I’m in construction,” he explained. “Vermont is full of fixer uppers. Lots of New Yorkers go to Vermont and buy old barns and shacks, and they hired me to turn them into fancy weekend places. So I fixed up the fixer uppers. I guess that makes me a fixer upper.”
    “Or maybe a fixer upper fixer upper,” she said with a grin.
    Like a fool, he grinned back. “Down here, I’m doing apartment renovations. Same idea, except there are no driveways or front yards.”
    She stared expectantly at him. What else should he say? What would win Eric a desk and chair in this school?
    Since the topic of his work had come up, he figured now was as good a time as any to raise a related subject. “I saw nothing on your Web site about how much the Hudson School costs.”
    “We haven’t set the tuition schedule for next year yet,” she explained.
    “Well, whatever you set it to, I think it’s going to be out of my price range. What’s the deal with financial aid? Or am I screwing my kid’s chances of getting in by asking?”
    “No,” she said gently. “You’re not screwing your kid’schances. We do offer financial aid. You’ll have to fill out an application.” She opened a drawer in her massive desk and pulled out some papers and a dark blue folder with a silhouette of the Hudson School’s three buildings embossed on the front in gold. “I suggest you fill this out yourself, rather than having Eric do it.”
    “Right.”
    “I’m afraid it’s nosy,” she said, “but we need to know your entire household’s financial situation. If Eric’s mother—”
    “Eric’s mother is