Covered Bridge Charm (8 page)

Simon nodded at Carly. “We’ll begin our meeting with your idea, Miss Blosser. Then you can leave while we discuss other business. So if you’re ready, why don’t you take the floor?”

“Yes, sir.” Fumbling, she withdrew her proposals and passed them around the room. “I’m sorry they’re not typed, but I don’t have a computer.”

She received some smiles. “No problem, your handwriting is a work of art,” Mrs. Nissley reassured.

She heard shuffling papers as she moved to face them. Mr. Coblentz tilted his bald-shaved head and smiled. She smiled back. “‘Everybody can do one little thing to stamp out loneliness.’ Being a single person who works with the elderly”—her voice broke, and she cleared her throat—“I understand how loneliness can grip the residents, making what could be a good experience a miserable and even frightening one. No matter how excellent Simon and you all do your jobs, loneliness creeps in to cause problems that become cancerous to the atmosphere of our facility. I’m proposing a campaign that inspires people to get involved by doing things for the residents that the employees don’t have time to do. I want volunteers to realize that every little bit helps.

“As you will see, I’ve detailed a plan that includes defining tasks and roles, responsibilities, time requirements, skills and qualifications, the recruiting process, the application process, and training and supervision and rewards. I’ve identified some risks involved, along with the need for policies and procedures in those areas.

“On page five, where it begins with ‘Singing, reading, and writing letters,’ you’ll see a list of the many ways volunteers can use their own talents and gifts to enhance the life of residents at Sweet Life. And I’m sure the list is not exhaustive.” She paused and rubbed her aching neck. “Please take a moment to look over the proposal. Then I’d be happy to answer any questions.”

“You can take your seat, Carly,” Simon said.

She didn’t wish to sit because she felt it gave her an inferior position, but she also didn’t want to oppose Simon in front of his board so she returned to her chair and quickly realized that Adam had missed a sticker.

Mr. Moseman cleared his throat. “Your proposal seems thorough, although I’m not familiar with this type of thing. But this project would be huge. It would be extremely time consuming to get it rolling. And our staff is already stretched thin.”

Before Carly could respond, Mrs. Nissley replied, “Oh, Moseman, you always pooh-pooh everything. This plan follows a logical design, and if it was followed step by step, I can see how it could work. It would add some excitement to the center.”

Carly cleared her throat and stood again. “If I may address Mr. Moseman’s concern, recruiting someone with office skills first, I could train them to do much of the work without adding to the other employees’ workload.” She sat back down.

“Delegating the organizational work to a volunteer under your supervision,” Mr. Coblentz repeated. “I like that.”

“Me, too,” Ebersole echoed.

As they continued to discuss the proposal, Carly fielded their questions. Throughout, Simon remained strangely quiet as the group’s enthusiasm toward the project increased. Finally, Mr. Moseman—who pooh-poohed everything—pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I make a motion that we take a vote. But I propose a stipulation that places Simon overall in charge, meaning he can appoint the positions to run the program, that is, if Miss Blosser’s proposal meets with our approval.”

Carly’s pulse quickened. She always expected Simon’s involvement in the program, but emphasizing his leadership sent a shiver down her spine.

“I second the motion and the stipulation,” Simon said, casting another smug look Carly’s way.

“Then let’s take the vote,” Mr. Coblentz said. “Two no’s and three in favor. I guess that means that Simon has a program to head.” He chuckled, “One he voted against.”

“Won’t be the first time,” Simon joked. “Congratulations, Carly.”

Breaking into a huge smile, Carly addressed the committee. “Thank you. For your time and for all you do for Sweet Life.”

Then Simon cleared his throat and waved his proposal. “Miss Blosser, could you get me another copy of this. I’ll be needing one for Sherie. As general manager of assisted living, she’s been seeking some kind of promotion. This is perfect. I’m putting her in charge. She’s the key to making Little Steps a success.

Every Little Bit Helps,
Carly mentally corrected, her world crashing down around her. Simon’s betrayal felt worse than if the board had rejected the idea entirely. She stared at him, realizing where Dale had gotten his betrayal genes. Or was this revenge? She felt a hand on her shoulder and cringed from her neck injury.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t see that coming, did you?” Mrs. Nissley whispered.

“No, ma’am.”

Simon glanced at his watch. “Perfect timing. Your shift begins in five minutes, Carly. Thanks again for coming.”

She snatched her bag, took one more look at the board, understanding then that Mr. Moseman and Simon had their backup plan prearranged. Blinking back tears, she slapped her copy of the proposal on Simon’s desk. “For Sherie.”

As she started from the room, Mr. Coblentz stuck out his hand. She took it, and he clasped it between both his a bit too firmly, but she appreciated his silent support as she fought back tears and fled the room.

A
fter work Carly iced her aching neck, then took Cocoa to Aunt Fannie’s for a preplanned celebration/commiseration dinner. The new tire and rim worked perfectly per Rocco’s expertise, and the ride worked off some of the anger she’d stuffed in order to fulfill her shift at the assisted-living facility. Thankfully, Sherie wasn’t at work. It would have been her undoing.

Jimmy saw her arrive and swung open the door. “Aunt Fannie’s making fried mush.”

Carly lowered Cocoa to the floor. “Thought you were going on the road today.”

“Not until tomorrow.”

She followed her nose to the kitchen and kissed Auntie on the cheek. “Thanks for making my favorite.”

“Ach. It’s so messy, splattering my countertop and making everything greasy.”

The heavy smell of frying filled the kitchen—mush was one of those foods like broccoli that tasted great but smelled bad—and Jimmy moved to crank open the window.

“I brought Cocoa. Are the bedroom doors all closed?”

“Jah. And the litter box is ready.”

Feeling at home in her aunt’s kitchen, Carly opened a pantry door and snatched an apron. “Want me to fry the eggs?”

“Jah, and Jimmy you can do the toast.”

When they’d first arrived to live with Aunt Fannie—after their parents were killed in a car crash—she’d put them to work. Over time Carly discovered it helped with the grief. Aunt Fannie would know, because she’d also lost a husband and son to an accident. Working together bonded them into a family unit.

Since Auntie didn’t have a farm for Jimmy to work, she provided him with chores most men in their congregation considered women’s work. Now her brother had the skills he needed to live a bachelor’s life.

The Old Holley Conservative Mennonite Fellowship was more conservative when Fannie first arrived with her late husband. As it progressed from Beachy-Amish to the more liberal Conservative Mennonite, Aunt Fannie clung to the old ways, such as wearing her stringed prayer covering. Carly found no problem following Auntie’s plainer style of dress. Anyway, the cap helped control her bushy hair.

Now Aunt Fannie wielded her spatula, slipping the crisp brown strips of fried mush onto a platter. “Bring everything into the dining room where I cleared off the table”—she shot Carly an accusing look—“so it would be special for tonight.”

A renewed sense of failure sagged Carly’s shoulders as she carried a platter of fried eggs into the dining room. The table was dusted and set with Fannie’s best dishes, increasing her humiliation. Jimmy prayed and they passed the food before Fannie posed the questions which would steal Carly’s appetite. “What happened at the meeting today? You don’t look so good. And why are you rubbing your neck?”

Fiddling with her fork, she explained, “They liked my idea. Vote was three in favor and two opposed.”

Fannie appeared startled. “Ach! That’s good. I suppose Simon voted no.”

“Jah. And the man he has in his pocket.”

“What! Surely not.”

“No, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just angry.”

“Spill the beans, girl.”

“This Mr. Moseman added a stipulation to the proposal before the vote. It put Simon in charge of the program.”

“Ach my,” Auntie said.

“But Simon wouldn’t want the responsibility if he doesn’t support the program. Would he?” Jimmy asked.

Carly steepled her hands. “At that point in the meeting, I was thinking the same thing. But I knew something wasn’t right.”

Fannie waved her hand. “Well, what happened?”

“He congratulated me.”

“That’s hard to believe. So why so glum?” Fannie frowned. “Did you fall off your bike again?”

“Jah. But back to my story. I was admiring Simon for it until he asked me to make a copy of my proposal for Sherie. Said he was putting her in charge of the entire program. He bumped me out.”

Fannie slammed her fist on the table so hard it rattled the china passed down from her mother. “That rat!”

“That does it!” Jimmy pushed back his chair. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“No!” Carly grabbed his arm and flinched at the sudden pain that shot through her neck. “He knows how I feel. I slapped my proposal on his desk so hard it rattled his teeth and told him to give it to Sherie.”

She dropped her hand. “I’ve thought about this all day. It was preplanned that Moseman would add that stipulation. And everything was legal. I could tell some of the committee didn’t like it.” She thought about Mr. Coblentz’s firm handshake and Mrs. Nissley’s attempts to help her. “But they didn’t call him on it. It hurts that he doesn’t think I’m capable.” Her voice broke. “Sometimes I think he hates me.” She didn’t add what they were probably all thinking, because of Dale.

Jimmy pulled her up into the embrace she’d needed all day. She dug her fists into his shirt until her sobs subsided. When she pulled away, she feigned a smile, “Watch the neck.”

“Sorry.”

“The rat,” Fannie mumbled.

Carly sat back down and started to cut her mush into bite-sized pieces. “I’m fine now. But I don’t understand why he doesn’t just fire me.”

Fannie puffed with indignation. “Because you’re the best caregiver he has.”

Jimmy gripped the back of his chair. “I still think I should talk to him.”

Fannie argued, “Even though I think he’s a rat, it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Sit down, Jimmy. Let’s think this through.”

But he moved behind Carly’s chair and gently massaged her shoulders. “You’re the best caregiver there. He doesn’t deserve you. But the residents do.”

“That’s right.” Fannie wrung her hands. “Jimmy. Get my Bible from my bedroom. And be sure to close the door and check on that rabbit.”

“You just told me to sit down.”

Carly giggled in spite of the situation and felt her appetite returning. “I’m sorry you went to so much trouble when—”

“Shush now.”

Jimmy returned. “Cocoa was on his belly, sleeping with his legs stretched out behind and in front. What a life. Now he’s chewing on his toy.”

Fannie thumbed through the Good Book and cleared her throat. “Here it is. And it ain’t pretty. Proverbs 25:21–22. ‘If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: For thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head, and the Lord shall reward thee.’”

“Sounds like we should’ve invited Simon to dinner,” Jimmy stated sarcastically.

Carly considered the verses. “I guess if he hates me, he is the enemy?”

Auntie nodded. “And the best way to embarrass your enemy is to treat him with grace and respect. Even if he isn’t shamed into repentance, others’ll see who is right, and the Lord will bless your desire to help the residents.”

Carly grew thoughtful. “I suppose I could show him more respect.”

Jimmy shook his head with disgust. “I’m still mad. Why should Carly take the blame?”

“Because it’s our way. It’s God’s way, and I’ve seen it change people. Nothing Carly has done up to this point has changed Simon’s attitude.”

“She’s right, Jimmy. I only want the best for the residents. And I got the program approved. It’s just my pride hurting that I can’t administer it. Maybe my job is done.”

“Maybe,” Auntie replied. “We’ll see.”

“I’ll try to be kind to Simon and Sherie.” Carly cringed. “But I’m not ready to apologize to Simon.”

Auntie nodded as if the matter were resolved. “Ach! The food’s getting cold. And we’re here to celebrate the best caregiver at Sweet Life. Everybody eat up.”

Carly felt Cocoa snuggle in-between her feet, and the love of her family overwhelmed her. They’d provided a plan. They always stuck by her. They’d helped her get through the rumors buzzing around church after she’d split up with Dale. Rumors he’d spread. And now she had to forgive his dad. Given her temperament, the plan wasn’t going to be easy to implement.