Newkirk hadn't been this nervous since he'd waited for the guys to come back from a sabotage mission.
True, the task at hand was no where near as dangerous, but he was troubled nonetheless. All day at the station he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything, not even the large stack of money that had landed on his desk. He was supposed to be checking to see if they were counterfeit (he suspected they were) but there was only one topic his brain wanted to dwell on.
This morning Lizzy had left for her first day of school.
The Huntingburg school was nothing big, and the scariest thing that had ever occurred in the history of that particular institution was that a turkey had somehow gotten inside and left evidence of its brief occupation on a few desks.
He really didn't have any reason to worry about the school. He knew she would get there safely - the school wasn't all that far from their street, and Lizzy had been in excellent company for the short walk there.
Their neighbors, the Stephensons, had two daughters, Inez and Ida, who had walked her the two blocks there. Ida was four, just like Lizzy, so he figured they would be in the same class. He hoped anyway; it would be good for Lizzy to have someone familiar around her on her first day of school. Inez was going into the eighth grade, so the two younger girls at least had someone responsible with them.
Either way, this was one mission he was anxious to know the outcome of.
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Seated strategically so he could see out the kitchen window, Newkirk glanced to the clock on the wall for what felt like the thousandth time. Lizzy was supposed to be home any minute now, and the longer he waited for her, the more crazed the scenarios in his mind of how her first day went became.
Eventually, the three girls came into view, and, thankfully, they all appeared to be in one piece.
He watched as Lizzy waved goodbye to Ida and Inez, who continued down the street to their house. He watched her skip up the driveway and heard her yank open the kitchen door.
Her cheerful face appeared before him, and that alone was enough to fill him with relief.
"Lizzy, sweetheart, 'ow was your day? Did you like school?" he asked.
"It was a lot of fun, daddy! We made colorful pictures and I sit next to Ida!" she informed him, hopping up on to the chair next to his.
"That's great, Liz. Anything else interesting?"
"This is from my teacher, Miss Wilson," said Lizzy, fishing around in the small pocket of her dress and producing a folded piece of paper that she presented to him.
"What's this?" Newkirk asked, starting to unfold the paper.
Lizzy shrugged her shoulders, and before he could question the little girl any further, she suddenly scampered off after Schultzie, who had sauntered into the room earlier, grew bored, and was now sauntering off.
Newkirk shook his head fondly as he watched her run off, then looked down to read the paper in his hand.
To the parents of Lizzy Newkirk -
I would like to inform you that today your daughter said something that cannot be accepted in a classroom setting. During a class activity in which the children were asked to paint dried macaroni noodles for a craft project, your daughter asked me "why the bloody hell" we were painting macaroni.
I do not believe she said this with any mischievous intentions, and for this reason I didn't speak to her in class. Instead, I am sending her home with this note. Lizzy is a delightful child, and very bright, and I believe that if she has picked up this colorful phrase from a family member that you will correct it.
Regards,
Miss Mina Wilson
Newkirk's thought process at that moment definitely included some words that Miss Mina Wilson would not approve of in a classroom setting.
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"She said that?"
"Yes."
"To her teacher?"
"Yes."
"And she sent home a note?"
"Yes! And stop laughing!"
Hogan could no longer hold in his mirth; he wished he could have been there to see the look on the teacher's face when one of her small, innocent pupils let out that particular English phrase.
"Oh, come on. She could have said something much worse. I would have asked the same thing if someone wanted me to paint macaroni," said Hogan, still amused.
"This isn't about the role of macaroni in Lizzy's education," said Newkirk seriously, though he was starting to see some of the humor in the situation.
"No, I know what this is about," said Hogan, sobering a bit. "We need to start watching what we say around her. She's more impressionable than we think."
"Exactly."
"And we'll start right away. No more barracks language."
"Right."
"I think everyone picks up some colorful language in the military. Once you're out, it starts wearing off after a while. I haven't heard any of the other guys say anything bad lately," remarked Hogan.
"But Carter sure did look like he was going to make up for lost time when Lucy told 'im she was havin' another kid," said Newkirk with a chuckle.
"Nah, he's happy about that. I was kidding around with him the other day - I told him doctors have finally figured out what causes that," said Hogan with a smile.
"What did Andrew say to that?"
"I didn't hear it - I was laughing too hard at the look on his face."
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"Lizzy?"
"Yes, daddy?"
"I heard you guys made macaroni necklaces at school today," said Newkirk, lowering himself onto the floor next to where Lizzy was seated with her usual tea party guests.
"Yes. I painted mine green," said the little girl, pouring some imaginary tea in the cup in front of Schultzie, who was currently asleep next to her.
"That's nice. Uh...did you like doing that?"
"It was fun. I liked coloring better."
"You didn't happen to...say anything about that to your teacher, did you?" Newkirk asked, feeling a little ridiculous.
"I don't know."
"Oh. Well...alright then...I'll...uh...leave you to your tea," said Newkirk.
"Stay with me," said Lizzy, handing him an empty cup.
"Alright, Liz," he said, taking his cup with a smile.
And with that, the matter was forgotten.
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If there was one thing Hogan didn't get much enjoyment out of when it came to owning a house, it was all the repair work that came with it. Sure, he took plenty of pride in keeping it clean and well-maintained, but there was something about the constant little tasks that sometimes irked him, especially when he could be spending his time doing something else.
In particular, he really hated the front yard fence. It seemed like every day at least one of the wooden slats would fall off or become crooked, and it was getting to the point where the fence was becoming more nails than wood.
Today was no exception, and Hogan found himself once more being thwarted by a fence. He had one nail in, so the slat appeared to be firmly adhered to the fence, but Hogan wasn't going to let it outsmart him again. He was getting ready to put another nail in for extra good measure, and just as he raised the hammer to drive the second nail in, his attention was diverted by a sound from the porch.
"Dad!"
It was Lizzy, bounding out of the house with her ever present enthusiasm. Unfortunately, it was also at that moment that Hogan firmy brought down the hammer on his thumb.
"Ow, son of…."
Despite still being very much in pain, Hogan's mind still acknowledged the presence of a young and impressionable person, and he floundered in his agony to find a better adjective.
"...gonculator!"
Well, at least her teacher can't complain about that one, he thought.