“This is going to be different,” continued Sue. “This is going to be a bit more upscale, designed for professional parents who want the very best for their kids. We’ll have foreign languages, educational games, a fitness program, music appreciation—I’m pretty excited about it. We even have a name: Little Prodigies Preschool Center.”

“That sounds great but do you think there are enough professional parents who can afford it?” asked Rachel. “Something like that’s going to be pricey.”

“Chris has done a lot of research,”

“Of course,” said Lucy and Pam, simultaneously.

“…and she says there are plenty of couples looking for top quality care for their kids. The population has really changed in the past few years. The old folks are dying off, there’s been an influx of professionals who work at home, or commute to businesses that have moved out of the urban centers. There’s that new industrial park in Gilead; it’s full of computer and biotech outfits.”

“But how did Chris know that you have a background in early childhood education?” asked Lucy.

“She was asking around for daycare options and somebody told her to call me for some referrals and one thing led to another.” She looked at her watch. “Well, sorry, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Chris. We’re going to check out some possible properties.” She stood up and picked up her purse. “Wish me luck!”

She left in a chorus of good wishes, leaving behind her amazed and befuddled friends.

“I’m floored,” said Lucy. “I thought they hated each other.”

“The last I heard, and I heard quite a lot, she was going on and on about what a bossy upstart Chris was,” said Pam.

“It makes sense, if you think about it,” said Rachel, who had majored in psychology. “Like minds attract and, let’s face it, this town is too small for both of them. They either had to get together and make peace or one of them was going to have to leave.”

“This is going to be good for Sue,” said Lucy. “She definitely needed a new interest.”

“Those two are bound to make a success of it,” said Pam. “Do you think we can get in on the ground floor, before they go multinational?”

Lucy was in good spirits when she got to work, but unlike the week before, this Thursday the phones were ringing like crazy. And it wasn’t because of Lucy’s two-inch story about the possible identification of the homeless man based on the discovery of the driver’s license, which was all Ted agreed to print without more information.

“Ted got the tax rate wrong,” said Phyllis. “He printed $66.87 instead of $6.87 per thousand.”

“Oops,” said Lucy, uncomfortably aware that she had proofread his story on the new rate and hadn’t noticed the mistake. “I think it must’ve been a typo at the printer’s,” she said hopefully.