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and came back to wait outside the art room, trying to think what to do if his dad came out mad. The amazing thing was that his father and Georgia both came out wearing big smiles.
    On the way to the car, Stewart decided to be quiet and hope for the best, but what his father said after he had started the car surprised Stewart into forgetting to worry about punishment. "I asked Wanda Gibbs to go out to dinner with me tomorrow evening," he said.
    "Oh!" Georgia clapped her hands. "She might be my new mommy!"
    Stewart gave the little rat the dirtiest look possible. It was too dark, though, and the look was wasted. Not only had Georgia let him down, now she was being disloyal to their mother and to Martha too.

• TWO •
    I t felt strange the next day to sit in class and be taught by the woman his dad was going to take out to dinner. He and Ham stared at her as she talked. Then Ham wrote a note. "Why?" He scribbled in the margin of the paper where he had started to take notes about perspective. Stewart shrugged his shoulders. "She's not near as pretty as Martha," Ham added. Stewart shrugged his shoulders again.
    Then Stewart quit even pretending to pay attention and started to think about Martha. He sure hoped she didn't call while his dad and Ms. Gibbs were gone. He didn't want to be the one to tell her about the date, and Martha might ask where his father was.
    He sighed. Sure he had told his dad right out that he didn't like the idea of his getting married again. Still, he had always liked Martha. He didn't want a stepmother. That was all, and his dad didn't seem to be in any hurry to remarry either. Dad was like that, taking things very slowly. Martha was nice and patient, never pushing his father beyond an occasional dinner and a play. Stewart couldn't even remember how many years they had been sort of dating. He had always figured that some day his father would want a woman in their family, and he had thought that woman would be Martha.
    Why would his dad suddenly want to date Ms. Gibbs? She was a short woman and definitely on the pudgy side. Stewart reached for Ham's paper and added his own note. "I'd say Gobbs might be a better name for her than Gibbs. Have you had a look at her behind?"
    He poked Ham, expecting him to look down at the paper and then grin. Ham didn't respond at all.
    A cold chill came over Stewart, and he knew even before he saw the hand with the long red fingernails. Slowly he turned his head, and for just a split second before he looked down, he stared into those bright green eyes. "Give me the note," she said. Stewart laid it in her hand.
    The room was deadly silent. Ms. Gibbs took the note, read it, folded it carefully, and tucked it into the pocket of her sweater. Then she walked to the board, took a marker, and said, "I need to write myself a little reminder." In big letters she wrote STEWART. She stepped back for a second as if to examine the word. "Do you have a nickname?" She turned to look at Stewart as she asked the question.
    "Kind of, well... sometimes." Stewart's voice sounded shaky in his own ears.
    "Is it Stew?" She turned back to the board, picked up an eraser, and took off the first three letters. "Or it could be Wart, couldn't it?" She whirled back to stare at Stewart. She moved to allow her gaze to take in all the kids, and she smiled. "Time will tell, won't it, class?"
    The class laughed, and for just a second, Stewart thought even Ham was going to smile. "Now," said Ms. Gibbs, "back to perspective." Stewart was glad the period was almost over.
    In the hall, he leaned against the first locker he came to. "I'm dead," he said to Ham. "Did you see the look she gave me, and then that Wart business. She's out to get me."
    Ham pulled at his arm. "Ah, I don't know. She could have sent us both to the office. Dooley wouldn't be very easy on us for giving her trouble. He wouldn't want her to leave him with Harrison the way he is. Cheer up. It's lunchtime."
    The cafeteria always had the same