| OCR Text |
Show 34 a teacher wanting to drive a dozen miles twice a day if she didn't have to. "My husband? Oh no, I'm divorced. Timmy's my four-year-old." "Oh." Sorry about that, Dyna thought. What are you supposed to say when someone's divorced: Better luck next time? Mrs. Simpson went on. She hardly seemed broken up over it. "Which brings me naturally to the question uppermost in my mind these days-do you ever babysit?" "I used to. There aren't any little kids around where Gram and I live now. Just old people and some university students." "Would you consider sitting with Tim sometime if I provide transportation?" "Yeah, I might. If Gram won't let me get a regular job. To tell you the truth, I need to make some money." "I don't go out a lot," Mrs. Simpson admitted, "but when I do, I pay top coin* I also throw in the refrigerator." Dyna laughed. "You realize you're being bribed!" her teacher said, pulling out of the line of traffic to make a left turn. "Yeah . . . but I like it." Only when Dyna opened the car door, her thanks spilling out all over the pavement, did she have the courage to admit that she and Gram didn't have a phone-"right now." "You'll have to ask me ahead, at school." "No problem. Hey, I enjoyed your company! See you tomorrow." Dyna smiled and waved as Mrs. Simpson pulled away from the curb. "No lie, she likes me!" Dyna was bursting. She ran up the sidewalk, scattering the horse chestnut leaves in her path, and leaped over the section of cement that had been raised and rearranged by the perverse-ness of frost. The smile on her face was endless. What would Gram say? Dyna Suggs, Wayward Girl, was going to babysit for her teacher. Not only that, she might even write a TV show. Gram would have a coronary, she'd be so happy! "I'm home," Dyna called, letting the screen door slam. The house was quiet* "Gram?" Dyna shook out her towel and swim suit, then headed for the |
