“I agree.” Peyton grinned at her colleague before again addressing the group. “Darius suggested we hold the dance in the community center so people can see the cause their money is supporting.”
“That’s my son.” Simon’s raised voice drew all eyes to him. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“Your son?” Ethel’s tone was scathing. “I was practically a single parent.”
The tension in Darius’ shoulders threatened to snap him in two. He faced a familiar dilemma: Should he ignore his parents’ outbursts or drag them from the room?
“Forgive me.” Peyton once again lifted her hands. “I should have explained the ground rules first. As part of our fundraising efforts, each committee member will be charged five dollars whenever their outburst takes us off topic. That means, Simon, you would’ve owed us ten dollars—”
His father gaped. “What?”
Peyton ignored Simon’s interruption. “And, Ethel, you would’ve owed us five.”
Ethel’s gloating expression turned to shock. “Why—”
Peyton continued. “But since I hadn’t explained the rules before, I won’t fine you. However, starting now, each outburst that doesn’t directly advance our meeting agenda will cost the violating member five dollars. Does everyone understand?”
Simon and Ethel glared at each other, then answered in unison. “Yes.”
The other committee members agreed.
The burden had been lifted from Darius’s back. He smiled at Peyton, who nodded in response.
“We have a list of tasks for which we need two volunteers each.” Peyton tapped her pen against her meeting notes, checking off the tasks as she read. “We need a team to handle the registration database, another for catering and room reservation, and a third for entertainment and to coordinate printing for the event program. Darius and I will handle the fundraiser’s promotion.”
Darius touched the back of Peyton’s hand again, this time to interrupt her. He also just enjoyed the feel of her skin beneath his touch. “Before we get to the assignments, are there any questions?”
CeCe raised her hand. “How are we going to pay for all of this?”
He could handle that question. “Peyton and I have already received donations from local businesses to help cover our expenses. And we’re going to continue to ask for sponsorships. The Monitor and the local radio stations a
re giving us free advertising.”
CeCe inclined her head in approval. “It sounds as though you’ve already done a lot of work to cover the costs.”
“It’s still important to keep our expenses down,” Peyton cautioned. “We want as much money as possible going to the center.”
“What you’re doing . . .” Stan looked at the people seated around the table. “You have no idea how much it means to people who need the help the center provides.”
Darius squeezed Stan’s shoulder. “No problem.”
“We’re happy to do it.” Warmth filled Peyton’s voice.
A chorus of agreement circled the table.
“The community center is going to let us use their activity room for free.” Darius returned to the planning agenda.
Simon interrupted. “Bet that was your idea, Darius. You see? I told you my son had a good head on his shoulders.”
Peyton held out her hand toward the older man. “Simon, you owe us five dollars.”
Simon’s eyebrows jumped. “But—”
Ethel exhaled an impatient breath. “You agreed. Now pay the woman.”
The meeting quieted while Simon pulled five crumpled one-dollar bills from his wallet. He handed them to Ethel. The money passed from her to CeCe, then Stan, then Darius before landing with Peyton.
The little professor smiled. “I’ll log this as our first official donation. Now, if there are no other questions, we’d like two volunteers to handle the registration database.”