Jane, as the mother of three kids in the school district, wasn't expected to take a big role in the process for the first child. The PTA philosophy was that if you worked first-timers to death, you'd never get them back. So her assignment was to help with the decorating of the casino/hallways. She'd also have to stay up all night as a door guard to keep the kids from wandering off. That was the part she was dreading, not having actually stayed up all night since the night Todd was born — and not by choice then. The nurses had claimed she was the only maternity patient they'd ever had who thought sleeping through labor was an achievable goal.

When Jane arrived at the school, a few minutes after nine, it appeared to be a madhouse. The building swarmed with parents; a caravan of large trucks was unloading tables, chairs, and sound system gear. The one person who didn't seem to be frantic was Patsy Mallett, the amazing woman who oversaw the whole operation. Jane caught sight of her, sailing serenely through the chaos.

Jane reported to the head of the casino committee and was given a stepladder and a trolley that was stacked high with dark fabric, tacks, a hammer, and a box full of large cardboard-and-glitter stars and moons.

“Start to the south of the main door, overlap the fabric exactly two inches along the ceiling molding, and put two stars and moon on each section," were the curt orders she was given by a woman so over organized, she made Shelley seem like an aimless slob.

Jane did as she was told, and was just ready to climb down from her ladder and admire her first section of work, when she looked down and recognized the top of Mel's head. He stood just inside the door, notebook in hand.

“Mel, we have to stop meeting this way," she said.