Her words sounded like those of a politician trying to win my vote or to get me to understand an issue that she thought was important. I wasn't clear on where she was headed.

“And we need your help,” she said, emphasizing every word.

“We?”

“The Prism community,” she clarified. “We are in a time of need and I think you are just the person who can help us.”

“Well, I don't know about— ”

Bingledorf raised her hand to stop me. “I know a doer when I see one and you are a doer, Daisy,” she said, ignoring my attempts to thwart her filibuster. “I'm one myself. So I recognize it when I see it.” She placed her palms down carefully on the desk. “You can help quell the crisis here at Prism.”

I swallowed and cleared my throat. The stolen computers were definitely an issue but her words were like a call to war. “Uh, how?”

She slapped her palms down on the desk and smiled like she'd won an election. “With a fundraiser.”

“A fundraiser?” I said, staring blankly at her.

“Yes, a fundraiser,” she said. She picked up a pen and twirled it slowly. “We need something that can help the community raise the money to purchase new computers, so that we remain true to our mission statement and so that our students can continue to move forward with their education. We cannot wait. What we need from you is to help us find a way for our school community to raise the necessary funds to replace our computers.”

So her speech wasn't just about pumping me up and singing my accolades.

It was to recruit me.

“I'm not sure I'm the person you need,” I said, shaking my head. “I have three kids at home, plus my daughter that's here. I've only volunteered for a week and, while I'd like to tell you that it was altruistic, the truth is I was simply doing it to get our family's required volunteer hours out of the way for this year.”

Bingledorf nodded, wrinkles forming at the corner of her eyes as she scrutinized me. “I'm sure we could arrange something. Because the way I see it, Daisy, is this: you are in the right place at the right time.”

She was talking in circles and she wasn't listening. “Organizing a fundraiser takes a lot of time,” I countered. “A lot of time that I don't have.”

“We aren't looking for anything too complicated,” Bingledorf said. “Because, frankly, we'll need to pull it off soon. Each day that the school goes without a computer is one day too long. So what we need is something simple, but that has the potential to bring in dollars.”

“Yes. You do,” I said.

Then we sat there staring at each other, the silence deafening.

“Here's what I can offer you,” Bingledorf said. She straightened in her chair and folded her hands together and stared down her nose at me as if she were queen. I wondered if she had a crown behind her desk. “Let's say you went home this evening and tossed around a few ideas with your husband. Just brainstormed a bit. And let's say you came back tomorrow morning with an idea that was straightforward, but would generate the money that we need.” She paused and tucked her chin slightly, eyeing me. “I would be willing to count that as not only your volunteer hours for this year, but also for your daughter's remaining years here at Prism.”

I considered that for a minute. Each year, the number of volunteer hours doubled. So the commitment to fulfill them would grow. It was an interesting offer. But I still wasn't exactly sure what she thought I could pull off in a short amount of time. I could think of small things off the top of my head – bake sales, thrift sales, raffles – but those wouldn't generate the kind of money needed to replace an entire computer lab.

Which left me with a question.

“Have you spoken to your insurance company?” I asked. “About when you might see a check for the lost items? That would still seem to me like the quickest way to reestablish the lab.”

She pursed her lips for a moment, her confidence wavering. Then she smiled. “Yes, well, it's all very complicated. Insurance companies can be difficult to deal with, as I'm sure you're aware, particularly with something this...involved. I have been in touch with them and I'll certainly be presenting them with our inventory list here, but I don't have much faith that we will see any sort of quick reimbursement.”

“But if you impressed upon them how vital the computers are,” I said. “I'm sure they'd be able to come up with something. I mean, they're insuring a school, so they must have some experience with this kind of thing.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, nodding quickly. “Absolutely. But given that there is a criminal investigation that is ongoing and the amount of paperwork and red tape, I fear they may be a bit slow on the uptake to cover our losses.” She smiled, satisfied with her own answer. “So. I really believe that a fundraiser might do the trick.”

I still didn't agree with her, but it was pretty clear that she wasn't going to change her stance at that moment.

“So perhaps we can meet again tomorrow morning?” she said. She picked up her reading glasses, along with a file on her desk. “To discuss what you've come up with and to discuss the viability of the best idea?”

I sighed. I didn't see the point in arguing any further. Evelyn Bingledorf was like a bulldog with a turkey leg in her teeth . She wasn't letting go.

“Sure,” I said, already dreading the conversation with Jake. “Let's talk tomorrow.”

ELEVEN

I spent the rest of the day in the conference room, shredding old papers Ellen had given me and racking my brain for fundraising ideas. Despite Bingledorf's in-your-face tactics, I had to admit the idea of fulfilling the next three years worth of volunteer hours was incredibly appealing. Not only would I never have to pawn my kids off on Brenda while I volunteered, but I wouldn't have to work concession stands or ticket sales for the rest of Emily's high school career.

Not a bad trade-off, I had to admit.

Unfortunately, I succeeded with the shredding but failed with the ideas.

Everything I came up with was either going to take too much time or wouldn't bring in enough money. I didn't see a quick fix available. The best I could come up with was a raffle, but it would require someone donating something sizable enough to generate the kind of money and interest the school needed. And even though I didn't mind talking to people, I wasn't enthusiastic about calling local car dealers to ask them to donate a vehicle or the local travel agents to see if they wanted to sponsor a trip to Jamaica. And I honestly wasn't sure that even those kinds of prizes would be enough to bring in the kind of money that Bingledorf was seeking.

I was thinking about that and stacking empty manila folders into a banker's box when a knock on the conference room door startled me. I looked up and immediately wished I was elsewhere.

“Hidey ho,” Harriet Hollenstork said, smiling. “Looks like you're back for more.”

“Looks like it,” I said, returning my attention to the file box.

She walked over to the table, the heels of her sandals clicking against her feet. “Ellen can be such a slave driver.”

“Not really,” I said. “She's been very kind to me and I think she's keeping the really ugly stuff away from me. Which I appreciate.”

“Yes, Ellen's very sweet,” she said. “I'm sure she appreciates your help.” She paused. “And I guess you'll be needing some help, too. With the fundraiser.”

I looked up. “What?”

She smiled, exposing a thick band of invisible braces, and I wondered how I'd missed them the day before. “I heard that you're planning a fundraiser to help with the computers.”

I started to say something, then stopped. I was flabbergasted that the word was already out about something I was supposedly doing. I'd heard the grapevine in schools worked quickly, but this was absurd.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked.