“Uh-oh.” Georgeann laughed. “Looks like Kendra doesn’t like that.” She gulped, putting her hand to her mouth. Georgeann was so bad at being snarky—it was uncomfortable to watch.

“Of course I do,” I said. “A story would be great. We love spreading the word about the party.”

The JV heat began with a short blast of whistles. Which meant Cole’s race was next.

“So you’ve got the principal living across the street, eh?” Maggie asked.

“Guess so.”

“I’m totally going to ask his wife up to come to my poker game.”

I couldn’t decide if she was trying to goad me or if she was serious. Either way, the thought was incredibly ridiculous. Theresa Pressley at Maggie’s monthly poker games? Where the women swore and smoked and pretended they were still freshmen in college? Yeah, no. Theresa seemed more like a nature hike or afternoon tea kind of woman.

“I don’t really think Theresa’s the gambling type,” I said.

“We’ll see.” Maggie picked a particularly long cat hair off her arm and let it disappear between the cracks in the bleacher seats. “It’s important to get on her good side, after all. Never know when it might come in handy.”

“Oh god,” I said. “You. Are. Insufferable.”

“Like you weren’t thinking the same thing.” She eyed me up, and I had to will myself not to look away. “I just wish her husband was as good at his job as he is at schmoozing.”

“Someone needs to tell him to ask you for advice,” I said, laying on the sarcasm. “Maybe next time I see him outside raking leaves, I’ll let him know you have some tips for him.”

I would have been satisfied just to get a scowl out of Maggie, but that one shut her up.

“He seems like a really nice guy,” Georgeann, ever the optimist, added. “But I’m still shocked they gave the job to him over Diane Bloomington. I thought she was a shoo-in.”

So had Diane. When she’d found out she’d lost it, she’d called me, crying like a baby who dropped its pacifier, raging mad, too, saying it was a con job, calling Miles Hendricks names that would make even Pia blush.

They announced Cole’s race, and as the swimmers prepped, I stood to get a better view. He was on the starting board, white cap, goggles, red shorts, bouncing like he always did. Then whistle, and Cole and the others plunged into the water. The shouts echoed through the gym.

“Go, Bo! Go.” Maggie was all fist in the air, obnoxious voice bouncing off the hard walls as she cheered on her son. “Come on. Push it. Push it!”