Free Kindergarten Baby: A Novel by Cricket Rohman Page B

flirting?” Laura asked with a beguiling smile.
    They came upon a quaint old bookstore nestled among the pines on the south rim of the Grand Canyon, and Lindsey read “Kolb Studio” on the carved, wooden sign mounted over the door. Inside, they read another information sign, and discovered that Emery and Ellsworth Kolb, who had originally used the structure as their photography studio, had built the place in 1904. The shop was brimming with nostalgic charm, and it had an atmosphere so alluring that Lindsey figured even the most skeptical non-shopper would find it difficult to leave without making a purchase. For two elementary school teachers it wasn’t just difficult, it was practically impossible.
    “Who Pooped in the Park?”
    “Geez, Lindsey. Keep it down!”
    Lindsey laughed. “It’s a book. A picture book. Look! That’s the main part of the title. It’s by Gary D. Robson.”
    “So it is,” her friend said, smiling over her shoulder. “Your little guys are really going to like that.”
    Lindsey made her first Grand Canyon purchase‌—‌the “poop” book and an Arizona alphabet book‌—‌while Laura bought “Hey Ranger!” Kids Ask Questions About Grand Canyon National Park . When they returned to the lodge, the clerk was on the phone. By the look on his face, they could tell the news was not good. He hung up then shook his head.
    “I don’t know how this little mix-up occurred, ladies, but it did, and there simply isn’t another room to be had.”
    “But how can that be?” Laura asked. “We’ve been walking around for an hour, and we haven’t seen many people. How can every room be taken?”
    “We’re expecting several tour buses to arrive any time now, and all those folks have reservations.”
    “But we had reservations, too! And we’re here! We’re here now !” Lindsey cried. She wasn’t about to let anything rain‌—‌or snow‌—‌on her parade. She was going to enjoy life. Relax. See the sights. Maybe even hike the canyon. Do it all‌—‌and that included sleeping in a bed. “There must be something we can do.”
    “Of course there is. Just drive back out of the park to the little town of Tusayan. They have a few rooms left there,” said the clerk.
    “We can’t. Our car is back in Williams. We took the old Grand Canyon Railway. Why can’t you give us one of those rooms that belongs to someone on one of those buses that hasn’t yet arrived? Maybe someone won’t show up. People do get sick, you know. Plans change.”
    The clerk shook his head sadly. “Ah, but what if they all arrive as planned, with their exact confirmation numbers. I’d be in trouble so big it would make the canyon seem small.”
    The women kept on, whining and pleading, looking for a solution, but the clerk was helpless. Eventually, a small man walked up to the desk, shaking his head. “All right, already. Stop your begging. It’s not ladylike. George, just give them my room. I can sleep with my son. He won’t be thrilled, but what’s he gonna do?” He kept shaking his head as he turned from the desk and walked away, still mumbling to himself.
    “Thank you, Mr…‌Mr…”
    But he was already gone.
    The clerk raised one eyebrow. “Well now. That’s a stroke of luck for you.”
    The room was incredible. It had its own wood-burning fireplace, two large log beds, a sitting area complete with two overstuffed, roomy chairs, and a small kitchen. When Lindsey pulled opened the heavy, azure drapes, an unrestrained squeal of delight filled the room. They were rim-side, and the view was spectacular. The setting sun, glimmering through just enough cloud cover, painted a purple glow on the rust-colored cliffs that already sparkled with a light dusting of snow.
    “This must be the best room in the whole place!” she exclaimed, unable to take her eyes from the view. “I wish Anthony was here. He would love this,” came tumbling from her lips before she even realized what she’d said. She looked