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a red and yellow plaid Western style shirt with green piping and the smallest red cowboy boots I had ever seen. They looked like something out of a toy catalog. My eyes dropped to the newcomer’s waist, half expecting to see a leather holster and a pair of pearl handled pistols but instead the woman was wearing a rope in place of a belt, a rope that was probably all of twenty-five inches long. Hands planted on her hips, she surveyed the small group clustered around the table. “The party can start,” she said in a voice that was vaguely reminiscent of vintage Bette Davis. “Junebug’s here and you can all start to cheer.”
    I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was Junebug, the one they all couldn’t wait to get rid of? She looked as harmless as a fly.

Chapter Three

    “Junebug!” Claudine got to her feet and walked toward the older woman. When she reached her, she bent over and gave her an awkward hug. Junebug responded by twisting out of Claudine’s hold. “Don’t do that! You know I hate being touched by strangers. I hate being touched period!”
    “It’s just that I’m so happy you’re finally here. I was wondering when you’d get here.”
    Junebug strode to the table, her legs slightly bowed like she’d just gotten off a miniature pony. “How in hell would I have gotten here any sooner when I didn’t even know there was a luncheon going on today? In my honor, I might add.”
    “I did send you an email,” Claudine pointed out.
    “You know I don’t know how to open my email. If Ruth hadn’t mentioned the party to me on my way out, I would have gone home and missed my own birthday bash.”
    Simpson caught my eye and made a slight twirling gesture next to his forehead. “ Looney tunes,” he mouthed. I ignored him.
    “You’re here now, aren’t you?” Frank asked after exchanging glances with Claudine. “Sit down already so we can get this show on the road.”
    “Where am I supposed to sit? The two best seats are already taken. You know I like to sit next to you, Frank.” Junebug became even more Bette Davis-like, playing a coy Baby Jane.
    “For crying out loud, Junebug, you’re a big girl. Sit wherever you want to,” Jack told her.
    “Well, if I can’t sit next to Frank, I’ll sit next to this handsome young man instead.” Junebug sat down next to Simpson, completing the circle around the table. Glancing across from her, she nodded at Monica. “I’m surprised to see you here, Monica. I thought this was just for teachers, not any of the office staff.”
    “Congratulations, Junebug,” Monica said through tight lips.
    Junebug blinked at her. “Congratulations for what?”
    “Your retirement,” Monica replied.
    “Who said anything about me retiring?” Junebug looked around the table suspiciously. “I thought this was a birthday party! My birthday’s next week, you know. I’ll take some of that iced tea, missy,” she said to me.
    I glanced at the faces circling the table. Claudine’s face had turned a shade of grey that is normally associated with the color of clouds before a blizzard strikes. Passing behind Frank as I moved to fill Junebug’s class, I heard him angrily whisper, “How could Junebug not know that this party is for her retirement?”  
    “Don’t ask me,” Claudine snapped back at him in a hushed tone. “I thought she did know. You did talk to her, didn’t you, Frank? You told her how we can’t afford her salary any longer, right?”
    “Of course I did,” he said gruffly. “I called her into my office and told her that we can’t continue to pay her as much as we do.”
    “And what did she say?” Claudine pressed.
    “For Pete’s sake, Claudine, I don’t remember what she said! But I did talk to her. I did what I was supposed to do, just like I always do.”
    “He did, Claudine,” Monica said, jumping into the conversation with a loud whisper. “I was in Frank’s office that day and I heard him talking to Junebug.”
    It was pretty obvious to me