Route 66 Reunions (25 page)

Sarah stopped by Tricia’s desk on her way out at noon. “I may take a long lunch, but I’ll be back in time for the meeting at two.”

“Well, I hope so.” Tricia grinned. “I’m no good with budgets and charts and such.”

Sarah smiled over her shoulder as she headed toward the door. “Part of the job, Tricia. I’m starting to get used to it.”

In the hall, Sarah couldn’t believe her bad luck when she saw the tall man walking toward her. When he smiled and greeted her with more enthusiasm than she deserved, she wished she could feel more than friendship.

“Dr. Jenson, what brings you here?”

He fell into step with her as she continued down the hall. The warmth in his eyes frightened her. “I’m hoping you’ll have lunch with me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sarah turned the corner to the elevators. She pushed the button and waited for the door to open. “I may not have time to eat. I’m on my way to the shelter.”

“The shelter?” Harold Jenson gave her a sharp glance. “As in the girls’ home you’re so fond of?”

“Yes, Harold.” Sarah spoke with an edge to her voice. “The home I’ve supported for the last ten years. The home I believe supplies a great need for young pregnant girls who might end up begging on the street otherwise. Actually, that’s probably the best scenario. I can imagine so much worse that could happen to girls who have no family support when they need it most. Someone has to be there for them, and that’s what the shelter does in a small way.”

He held up his hands as if in surrender before opening the outside door for her. “Hey, I never said anything against your shelter, did I?”

She walked past him into the brisk breeze outside. “I guess not. Sorry I’m so touchy, but someone’s going to tear the building down and toss six girls out on the street. I’ve got to do something to stop them.”

His sharp, quick laugh annoyed her, as did his question. “And how do you propose to do that? Does the shelter own the building?”

“No, they lease it. They’ve leased it for the last ten years I’ve been involved. Why would anyone take it away from them now?” Sarah unlocked her car and realized Harold waited on the passenger side.

He grinned over the hood. “Unlock the door for me, Sarah. I’m going with you. We’ll stop at a greasy, fast-food joint on the way back. My treat. Does that appeal to you?”

Sarah laughed and unlocked the door. So what if Harold didn’t stir her blood the way Kevin used to—and still might? Harold was a nice man, and he could be fun. At least he was comfortable. Unlike Kevin, who’d invaded her mind all weekend no matter how hard she tried to shove him out.

She drove several blocks to an older business section of town and stopped beside a large, two-story frame building. Sarah looked at the building with objective eyes and had to admit a bulldozer rammed into the side would probably topple it without a problem. But that didn’t matter. This was home to six girls, and had been home to many girls and their babies over the years.

A private institution, Marilee’s Home began twenty years before, primarily supported with a trust fund from a donor whose daughter died alone on a city street after giving birth. The grieving parents, whose daughter had run away rather than tell them she was pregnant, started the home as a way to help other girls. The original donors were no longer living, but their vision continued with people like Darlene and Sarah, as well as those who had been helped, and others who believed in the work.

They never turned away a girl in need, and Sarah hoped they would never have to. If she could just get the name of the man responsible for this threat, maybe she could talk to him. Maybe she could at least get him to wait while they found another place to call home.

“We’d better go in.” Harold touched Sarah’s back, and she realized she was still staring at the old, dilapidated building that suddenly looked like a white elephant to her.

“Yes.” Sarah moved toward the back door and pulled it open with easy familiarity.

Inside the kitchen, the aroma of stew aroused Sarah’s appetite. She sniffed the air and smiled at an older woman standing at the stove, stirring the contents of a large aluminum pot.

“Hi, Grace.”

“Well, if it isn’t Sarah and the doctor.” Grace’s wide smile welcomed them. “Just in time for lunch, too. Go on into the dining room and pull up a chair. I’ll have this in there, lickety-split.”

Sarah glanced at Harold’s amused expression and said, “This would beat that greasy fast-food you were talking about.”

He laughed and swept his hand out toward the door leading into the next room. “By all means, let’s not pass up home cooking. You can always talk business as you eat.”

“Grace, is there any way I can help?” Sarah turned from Harold to ask.

“Not a thing.” Grace turned the stove off and slid the large pot to the side. “The girls already set the table. I’m bringing this in now.”

“Let me carry that for you.” Harold plucked the pot holders from her hands and positioned one on each handle. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

Grace smoothed the apron over her ample middle. “Sarah, you should grab this man before someone steps in ahead of you. He’s one of a dying breed. Not many charming gentlemen left in this world.”

Harold gave Sarah a pointed look, although he didn’t speak. Sarah laughed off the comment and said, “Yes, you’re probably right, but for now I’m starving and, as usual, can’t wait to taste your cooking.”

She took Grace’s arm, and together the women held the café doors open for Harold. Several young women stood around the room or sat talking at the long table that filled the center floor space.

“Sarah, hi,” several of the girls called out. “Are you eating with us?”

“Looks that way.” Sarah included all of them in her smile. She saw Darlene standing to the side with a girl she didn’t know. A girl who looked way too young to be expecting a baby. But most of them were too young. She remembered Molly, the twelve-year-old who almost died giving birth last year because her body hadn’t developed enough for the demands placed on it. Her baby had died.

Grace helped Harold set the stew on a side table, while Sarah skirted the dining table to meet Darlene and the new girl. But before she could, Grace called out, “Come and get it.”

Sarah joined the girls at the table while Harold sat across from her. She would’ve loved to linger over the savory stew and the friendly conversation, but she wanted to talk to Darlene in private. She emptied her bowl and declined a refill when Grace offered.

Darlene stood, pushing her chair back. “Sarah, if you’ve eaten your fill, I’d like for you to look at some paperwork in my office.”

This was the signal Sarah had been waiting for. “Yes, I’m afraid I have. If you gave out doggy bags, Grace, I’d take a bowl home for supper tonight. As always, the stew was delicious.”

“Very,” Harold agreed. He stood and moved to the side table, where he ladled out another bowl for himself. “You go look at your paperwork.” He sat back down and snagged another light roll from the basket on the table. “I don’t get to eat like this often enough.”

Grace appeared pleased with his praise. Sarah smiled as she and Darlene left the room. Harold had won another admirer, even if she was old enough to be his mother.

Darlene left the door open as she entered her office. Sarah followed her inside and waited while she picked up an envelope and pulled the letter out. She opened the folded paper and handed it to Sarah.

“This came in today’s mail.” She shook her head. “After all these years in this place, I can’t believe someone would buy it out from under us.”

Sarah read the letter, which appeared to be a standard impersonal notice of eviction giving Marilee’s Home ninety days to find a new location. A construction company had purchased the entire block and would be building a mini mall. She started to refold the letter when the signature at the bottom caught her eye, and she looked closer. Sprawled below the closing, in barely decipherable letters, Sarah saw the name that had haunted her for eighteen years.
Kevin Nichols
.

Blood drained from her face as her heart refused to pump.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

Darlene’s worried voice startled her, and she looked up. She’d been staring at Kevin’s name as if he’d materialized in the room. She still didn’t know why he’d been invited to meet Trey, and she had no idea what business he had tearing down Marilee’s Home. Did he know how much it meant to her? He’d already ruined her life once. Why, after all these years of silence, had he shown up to torment her?

“I’m sorry,” she told her friend. “It’s just the signature. Unfortunately, the letter seems to be official. I don’t know if there’s anything we can do, just as you said, other than look for another building.”

“What about the signature?” Harold spoke from the open doorway. “Why would a signature make you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”

Sarah handed the letter to him.

He looked at the bottom of the page and then at her. “So, your nemesis strikes again.”

“I don’t understand.” Darlene frowned. “What’re you two talking about?”

“Kevin Nichols.” Sarah took the letter from Harold and handed it back to Darlene. “He signed this, so I assume it’s his company who has purchased this block of buildings to tear down.”

“You didn’t know he was in construction?” Harold asked.

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t kept track of him.”

“Wait a minute.” Darlene looked from one to the other. “Are you telling me you know this Kevin Nichols? Sarah, if you know him, maybe you could talk to him. Maybe you could get him to leave our building alone. What do you think? Could you do that for these girls?”

Sarah turned from the pleading in Darlene’s eyes to the bland expression on Harold’s face. Could she? Could she face Kevin again so soon? In the distance she heard the chatter of girls’ voices and remembered how alone and frightened she’d felt when she learned she was pregnant. Fear had grown with the uncertainty in her life and all the changes her body and emotions went through. These girls didn’t need to have their home ripped from them along with everything else they faced.

With a heartfelt sigh, she nodded. “Yes, I know Kevin. I’ll contact him as soon as possible and see what I can do.”

I
need a phone number.” Sarah paused by Tricia’s desk long enough to add, “For Kevin Nichols here in the city. He may be in construction, maybe a contractor, so you might look in business listings, too.”

“I’ll do my best.” Tricia twisted her chair around to reach the table behind her. She lifted the Chicago phone book and plopped it on her desk. “Might as well start in here. Assuming you haven’t already tried this?”

Sarah made a face at Tricia’s saucy grin. “Of course not. I just found out at lunch that I need it. The guy is trying to throw our girls out on the street. The least I can do is give him an earful. The most is stop him in his tracks.”

Tricia laughed as she flipped open the directory. “Go get ’em, tiger. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get that number for you.”

Sarah went into her office and closed the door in case she decided to release some tension with a scream. If only she had the nerve. How could Kevin do this to her? Why would he pick on girls who couldn’t fight back? Girls who in spite of the wrong they had done, or maybe because of it, needed understanding and help rather than rejection.

She sat down at her desk and tried to concentrate on her work, but her mind continually drifted back to Kevin. To the man she had seen Saturday, when in her mind, she had yet to give up the image of the boy he had been.

“Sarah.” Tricia’s voice came over the intercom.

“Yes.”

“I found some numbers. Shall I bring them in now?”

“Sure.” Sarah glanced at the clock. “No, don’t bother. I don’t have time. I’ll pick them up when I get back from upstairs.”

“All right. I’ll have them for you,” Tricia promised.

When Sarah returned to the office late that afternoon, Tricia stood and walked around her cleared desk. “I laid the phone number on your desk. Well actually, I found three Kevin Nichols that might include the one you want. I hope one is right, but no guarantee.”

“Okay, thanks.” Sarah tried to focus on Tricia rather than the meeting she’d just left. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah.” Tricia grimaced. “Doctor’s appointment. Yearly physical.”

“Oh yes.” Sarah nodded. “You mentioned that this morning. Seems like a month of Sundays has passed since then.”

Tricia smiled. “I know what you mean. How’d your lunch with Dr. Jenson go?”

Sarah laughed. “You’ve been spying out the window again!”

Tricia waggled her eyebrows. “Natch, it’s what I do best around here. I adjusted the blind and saw you drive off together. Does that mean you’ve stopped running from him?”

A long sigh from Sarah spoke for her. She stopped in the doorway to her office. “Not really. Maybe if I stopped running, he would stop chasing. Do you think it’s worth a try?”

“Only if you want to get caught.” Tricia headed toward the outside door. “While most men may be in the running for the chase, I don’t think your doctor is. He’s really a great guy, and he’s looking for wife number two, you know. Maybe you should stop running. Marriage isn’t that bad.”