A Child's Heart (Trent & Cassie's Story) A River City Novel (4 page)

“I’m faxing the information as we speak, including
the website where you can get everything you will need.”

“Thanks.” Cassie hung up the
phone. A wave of relief flooded her system, but knowing she had two
very different exhibits that would run concurrently was still a
problem.
Something for everyone.
From mummies to mums? Mums the Word.
She rubbed her forehead.
Why did I take this job?

~~4~~

Cassie hung up the phone, smiled, and dialed Trent’s
house. When it rang for the seventh time, she gave up and
disconnected the call. It would have to wait. She had a meeting
with the city manager in ten minutes. She de-cluttered her desk,
and ran a brush through her hair.

She wasn’t going to get out of the museum until late,
as it was interim report card night. The entire staff braced for
what they hoped would be a stellar turnout. Any child with an "A"
could come in free when accompanied by an adult, and Friday evening
would be Teen Stomp, a mini version of the opening gala, but with a
room set aside for the kids to lounge, listen to music, and play
games, all sponsored by a local company.

Glancing over her calendar, she heard a knock on her
office door. “Come in.”

Hugh Fitzgerald’s height and bulk made him stand out
in a crowd, but seeing him in her cramped office, he appeared even
larger. She smiled politely, and extended her hand to him.
“Welcome.”

“I’m not here for a friendly chat. You’re over
budget!”

She raised her eyebrows. “What budget? I’ve asked to
see my budget, and not one person seems to be able to give me
anything in writing. I want a line item budget. When you produce
that for me, I’ll be more than willing to sit down and go over
everything with you, but until then, I think we can shelve this
discussion.”

“And what the hell is this?” He poked his finger a
little too close to the animal remains.

“Don’t touch it! It’s a mummified cat.” The color
draining from his face was worth watching.

“Ugh! What’s it costing us?”

“Nothing yet. In fact, I don’t believe any of these
shows have cost the city a dime. They are paying their way.”

“Not according to the bill I saw this morning.” He
gestured with his thumb at the door behind him. “Your dinosaurs
cost a small fortune.”

“I know exactly what they cost, and that money was
recouped with the Dino Tread Gala. You’re looking at one side of
the ledger. Our tills have quadrupled with the visitors coming to
see that exhibit. You want River City to have a little culture?
It’s going to cost!" Her insides tightened as her anger rose. "And
I’m doing everything I can to bring in some top-notch exhibits, and
have them pay for themselves. Bring me a budget, because I’ve never
seen an electric bill for this place.”

“I’ll send you your budget, and you’re going to find
your neck in a noose.”

She pushed her chair back and slowly stood. Placing
her palms flat on the desk, she stared into the city manager’s
eyes. “Bring it on, Hughie, because your scare tactics aren’t going
to work with me. I’m not Bill Krumpler, and I’m not caving.
Remember, you guys came to me and asked me to take this job. Then
you throw me to the lions and expect me stay on some nonexistent
budget. Get out of my office, Hughie, because I don’t have time for
this.”

He strode out the door and slammed
it in his wake. She shuddered, then closed her eyes.
Go to hell, Hughie Fitzgerald!

***

Several times Cassie looked at her
watch, wanting to call Trent, but she didn’t have time. And when
Jim from
River Lights
appeared, she smiled brightly. That local weekly magazine had
a lot to do with the success of the museum’s exhibits. Its
articles, under the guise of a sneak preview were the reason for
the museum’s recent success.

“Hi, Cassie. This place is hopping.”

“You’ve made it possible. I hope you will always be
supportive of our efforts.”

“Do you have a head count for tonight?”

“No clue, and I won’t know until tomorrow.”

“I’d like some numbers.”

“I’ll fax them over to you. Are you going to be here
for teen night?”

“I wouldn’t miss that for anything. Do you think
you’ll get a good crowd?”

“Good is the operative word. But with Riverton Fun
House sponsoring it, I think it should be very successful. They’re
bringing in every table game they sell: Foosball, Air Hockey, you
name it, and it’ll be here. Plus they are bringing several new,
touch-screen, table games. They are the hot new things in
computers. It should be a blast.”

“Do you have enough chaperones?”

“I think we do. But if you’d like to act as chaperone
again, I’ve got an idea forming for my next exhibit.”

“What’s that?”

“A Lock-In.”

“Huh?”

“An all night lock-in at the museum.” She lowered her
voice a few notches. “Bring your pillow and be prepared!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I have lots of fun things planned. In fact, I’m
working on an idea to make these special events a regular thing.
It’s not just a matter of bringing in a few people once in a while,
but to have regular participation from the community. Here’s the
dilemma. A father might bring his son to see dinosaurs, but will he
bring that same child to see French Impressionist’s paintings?”

Jim shrugged. “Hmm, it’s not exactly something that
will appeal to a younger crowd.”

“But it can. Exposure to all of our rich history is
so important. It doesn’t mean that everyone is going to like
everything, but if they can learn to appreciate and respect it,
then I’ve done my job.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Membership. Other museums do it, and it’s
successful. Buy a membership and visit all year long. Then these
members get free or discounted passes to monthly events, such as
our teen night.”

Jim nodded. “Sounds like a great idea. Think of all
the homeschoolers that could use this as part of their
curriculum.”

“I’ve already thought of that, and I’m taking it one
step farther. The critical learning objectives mandated by the
state are easily translated into what we have to offer. Starting in
August, every brochure will list the objectives covered by each
exhibit. I’m meeting with the school board next week, because the
schools need to take advantage of what is here.”

“Is that something that I may attend? I’d like to
hear what they have to say.”

“My understanding is that all school board meetings
are open to the public. It’s not a private session. And I'd love to
have you there.”

Jim looked around. “This place is packed with
people.”

“To be honest, I’d like to open the doors to all the
children who got D’s and F’s in History, because they are the ones
who need their minds tickled. They need to get excited about what
came before them.”

“Play with that idea. You just might have
something.”

***

The next morning, Cassie grabbed a
handful of keys from her desk. The museum had once been River City
High School, and had sat idle for several years until Bill Krumpler
convinced the city to turn it into a museum. She unlocked a heavy
door and opened it. Stale air laced with the smell of concrete and
rusting iron assaulted her. She ascended the steps and opened
another set of doors on the unused portion of the second floor.
Fifteen classrooms sat idle. Oak floors and old lockers brought
back memories of the high school she had attended. Big windows
bathed bright light onto the rooms.
I can
do this!
And they think I’m over budget?
Wait until they hear this. I need a miracle.

***

The single, sharp knock on Cassie’s office door
followed by the turning of the doorknob, instantly told her it was
Mrs. Winston.

“This came for you from Fitzgerald’s office.”

“My budget?”

Mrs. Winston nodded. “Yes, and it’s not good.”

“That’s impossible. We’re doing very well.”

“Not according to this.” She passed the faxed pages
to Cassie.

“Thanks.” She took the papers and quickly skimmed
through them. “Where are our bank deposits?”

“This is a budget, not a ledger.”

“I want our bank statements.”

Mrs. Winston pushed her glasses up on her nose. “We
don’t get those. They go directly to the city’s accounting
office.”

Darn!
“Do
you keep copies of what we do?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I want all of it for this entire year.”

Mrs. Winston raised her eyebrows. “A fiscal year or a
physical year?”

A sigh escaped. “Which one is longer?”

“Fiscal. It ends in June.”

“Good. That’s what I want.” She shot Mrs. Winston her
best smile.

It was after lunch when Mrs. Winston returned with
copies of every check they had written and all the deposits, along
with copies from a small ledger where the woman had recorded every
transaction. Her small script with tiny flourishes revealed her
age, and her dedication to her job.

Cassie poured over the paperwork and came to the
conclusion that she wanted bank statements. Getting any such thing
out of City Hall would take weeks, so she called the bank.

“What?” Her mind tried to wrap around what she was
told. “My deposits go into the general coffer? But our checks and
deposit tickets say The Museum of River City.” “I see. Thank
you.”

She hung up the phone and then ranted, “Bill
Krumpler, I hate you! You probably kissed their butts for every
little increase they gave you in the budget, and you never bothered
to look at what you were doing.”

She pushed her chair back and
stared at the door separating her from the museum traffic.
Maybe I should call the University and tell them
I’m coming back fulltime. I’ve kept my foot in the door when I
promised to teach two classes a semester. Do I really want to go
back to grading tests and term papers? What have I gotten myself
into? I need a vacation and time to think! Oh my gosh, Trent. I’ve
got to call him.

She was about to pick up the phone when it rang. “Dr.
Jones, how may I help you?”

“You’ve got visitors in the lobby.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right
there.”
I don’t need another interruption.
I want to call Trent.

She walked down the hall to the lobby and was
pleasantly surprised to see Trent and Shawn standing there. Shawn
broke into a full run when he saw her, and she braced for an impact
that never quite happened. She scooped Shawn's skinny body into her
arms and carried him back to his dad.

“Hi. Shawn wants to take you up on your offer. He’s
bugged us non-stop since the other night.”

She lowered the boy to the floor. “Go pick out
whatever you want. I want to talk to Daddy.”

“I told him one book.”

“He can have whatever he wants.”

Trent caught his son by the shoulder. “One book.
That’s all.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “He’s a little boy. Let him
have fun.”

“He’s four, and he wants one of everything.”

“That’s normal.” She put her hand on Trent’s sleeve.
“If you don’t mind, we can sit over here. I just need to speak to
Gail in the gift shop for a second.”

“One book, ma'am. Don’t go against me.”

She nodded and stepped into the gift shop. “Gail,
Shawn Callahan is allowed to pick out one book, but if there’s
something else he really wants, put it aside for me. He can be in
here alone. He’ll be fine without an adult.”

Gail made a face, but Cassie ignored it and went back
to Trent.

“I was going to call you when I
was told I had visitors. I meant to tell you last night, but Jim
from
River Lights
stopped by, the place was crawling with people, and we had
two toilets stopped up before the night was over, so I’m so sorry
to be getting back to you this late, but here’s what I’ve come up
with for a weekend at the beach.”

“I’m not going to have you treating us to a
vacation.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did it ever dawn you that by
coming with me you’re making my weekend better?”

“I’m not going to have you pay for some fancy hotel
for us, and I can’t afford it.”

“Well, consider this. I have an offer from a friend
of a friend. Do you know Dallas Nixon?”

“I know who she is, but I
don’t
know
her.”

“Okay, this is complicated. Dallas is married to Rick
Makowllen, and his parents live at the beach. Next weekend, they
are coming up here for a golf tournament and will be staying with
Rick and Dallas. They want us to stay at their beach home.”

Trent shook his head.

“No, really. It’ll be fine. They have two guest
rooms, and when they found out it was Shawn, they were excited.
They want us to come. They live a few blocks from the beach, not
actually on the beach, but within easy walking distance.”

“I’m not taking the hospitality from someone I don’t
know.”

“Trent, be reasonable. You might not know them, but I
do. Karen Makowllen is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. I
didn't realize the Makowllens lived at the beach. But I do know
they were big contributors to your son’s fund.”

“Geez. I don’t like taking charity from anyone. So
now I’m supposed to take more from someone?”

“I shouldn’t have told you that. But this isn’t
charity. Tate and Ari run down there all the time with their little
girl. The Makowllens love having a houseful of people.”

“No. I’m not doing it.”

Cassie smiled and ran her fingertips lightly over his
forearm. His soft golden-blond hair made her want to stroke her
fingers through it forever. “Yes, you will, because it’s a chance
for us to be together, and for Shawn to go to the beach and play in
the sand. I want to build sand castles with you and Shawn.”