Saturday Morning (38 page)

Julia, looking like she needed someone to talk to, came in. She pulled up a chair and sat down. Hope explained what they were doing.

“Flashcards, eh? I haven’t seen flashcards for so many years … ”

“Mebbe a hunnert?” Alphi glanced up from under his lashes.

Julia pulled a face. “Oh, thanks, kid.”

“I know I shouldn’t tell you this,” Hope said while she made another flashcard, “but Roger thinks he has a lead on Cyndy.” She put up her hand. “It’s just a lead, and it might be a couple of days before he knows any more.”

“Anything is better than nothing.” Julia chewed on the inside of her cheek, then teethed her lower lip.

“Trust me, he’ll let you know as soon as he knows something. The only reason he didn’t tell you is because he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for nothing. I shouldn’t have told you, but you looked so down. Is anything wrong?”

Julia shook her head. “No. I’m just homesick. Spent the last
couple of hours on the phone with my assistant putting out brush fires.” She flicked her hand as if clearing away debris. “Have any clothes come in for the girls?” She abruptly changed the subject.

“Funny you should ask.” She told Julia about Andy’s e-mail, and then she stacked the flashcards together according to the number sequence. They’d finished with addition up through the fives.

“I want to play another game of checkers,” Alphi said, already bored with the flashcards.

“Julia, how about you take him on for one game?”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“And then back to the flashcards.” Hope looked at Alphi. “Okay?”

“Okay.” His groan smacked of universal kid.

Celia strolled through the door, drying her hands on a towel, the knees on her jeans mute testimony to the war she’d raged outside.

“Feeling better?” Hope asked. The indelible frown lines on Celia’s forehead had eased, she had a smear of dirt on one cheek, and a lock of hair hung over one eye. Thank God for the restorative values of gardening. The fact that Celia wasn’t swearing a blue streak was proof that she was learning to deal with her frustrations, Clarice being the biggest one right now.

Julia made her first move, and Alphi quickly followed.

Five minutes later, Alphi jumped three of Julia’s checkers. “Gotcha!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, then leaped up and danced around the room.

Julia looked at Hope, her face frozen in shock. “Why, that little stinker. He beat me.”

“Yes, counselor, he did.”

Both Hope and Celia burst out laughing.

So many—Lord, You said You’ll fight our battles for us, but when? Cyndy, the retrofitting, jobs for all my girls, this baby. When, Lord, when?

They’re out there having fan, and I’m in here slaving.

The thought shocked Clarice. Better to be hiding out than engaging in another skirmish with Celia. Who would have thought that the woman wouldn’t want her pencils sharpened? She’d just been trying to be helpful. Well, that would be the last time she’d …

“I knew better,” she said to the picture of Hope and Roger on the opposite wall. “I can’t lie. I thought about asking her before I did it, and I didn’t. But good grief!”

Herbert, what do I do here? You always gave me such good advice. You must be so ashamed of me, the mess my life is in, when you tried so hard to make things easy for me.

Celia stuck her head around the door. “You want somethin’ to drink? I’ve got iced tea and coffee.”

Clarice felt instant blazing heat flash upward. She’d been caught talking to herself. And by Celia, no less.

“What’s the matter? You look funny.”

Clarice thought quickly. “Hot flash. I’m having a hot flash.”

“Aren’t you a little old for hot flashes?” Celia asked, her expression telling Clarice that she wasn’t buying it.

“Coffee, please,” Clarice ignored the question. “No, better make that iced tea.” She picked up a piece of paper and fanned her face.

“You got it.” Celia disappeared.

Coffee sounded so much better, but the caffeine levels of coffee might be one of the things contributing to her insomnia. No more coffee after three. Or switch to decaf. She finished the typing Hope had given her, printed out the pages, and stacked them neatly, ready for signatures and mailing. Now, to start on another drawer. She’d set herself a goal of one drawer a day, to get the office and the reception areas organized enough to lighten the work load. She’d talked to Celia ahead of time and gotten her to agree to change the filing system so that the files were more specific to the contents, thereby making it easier to find things. Surprisingly, Celia had agreed wholeheartedly. Well, maybe not so surprisingly, since Celia didn’t really have a filing system. She had a “stack” system.

It was good to feel useful. She’d loved the old days when she ran the offices for Herbert.

She liked to think that her organizational skills contributed to the company’s growth, from one room to a whole floor, then to an entire building.

“J House,” she said, answering the phone on the first ring. Incoming calls always gave her a tiny thrill of excitement. She never knew what problem or person would be next on the agenda. “I’m sorry, Roger isn’t available right now. May I help you?” She picked up a pen and scooted a message pad around to use. “Yes, Hope is here, but she isn’t taking calls for another week due to medical restrictions. Perhaps I can help you.” The woman on the other end of the line told Clarice why she was calling. “If I may put you on hold, I’ll ask.”

Clarice pushed the Hold button, grabbed her pen and pad, and walked out to the common room, where Hope was congratulating Alphi for correctly answering a math question.

“I have Inez on the line from Social Services. She has a young girl who needs a halfway house. She’s been in juvie for a month.”

“Oh, boy.” Hope closed her eyes for a moment. “We’re full, but … ” When Celia came out with a tray of beverages, she told her the problem. “What do you think? Can we make room?”

“I dunno. It’s pretty tight right now.”

“Clarice, tell Inez that we don’t really have room right now, but we’ll do everything we can to squeeze her in. Say you’ll call back in a half hour and let her know. Then come out and join us so we can discuss what to do.”

Clarice nodded, smiled at the others, and returned to the office, leaving the door open this time. So much for the next drawer. She relayed the message, promised to get right back to Inez, and then rejoined the others.

Celia had gone back to the kitchen and was returning with a plate of ginger cookies that Clarice had baked that morning. There was nothing in her demeanor to indicate the frustration that had made her want to dig holes in the earth.

“How you gonna find room for one more?” Celia asked as she passed around the cookies.

“I could set up a cot somewhere, if we have one, and she could have my bed,” Clarice volunteered.

Hope shook her head. “The only place left is the office. Right now you spend most of your waking time in there, but do you want to sleep in there too?”

“At least then I wouldn’t wake anyone when I can’t sleep.” Clarice sent a smile Celia’s way. “When you get older, you just don’t need as much sleep anymore.”

Evidently, the idea didn’t sit well with Hope, because she shook her head. “Isn’t DeeDee about to leave?” She turned to Celia for the
answer. “Would you please pull her file?” Residents were supposed to stay only long enough to get on their feet, but with the new programs Julia had started, none of the girls wanted to leave without the extra training and support.

Celia rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where it is.”

“I’ll get it,” Clarice offered. With all this running back and forth to the office, she was bound to lose a few ounces.

Minutes later Hope found what she was looking for in DeeDee’s file. “We need to help her find a job and get her out of here. She’s ready. Celia, call Mai and ask if she has any more openings at the restaurant, and then, Clarice, you call Inez back and tell her to send her girl over.” She looked back at Clarice. “There’s a cot in the storage room.” Her eyebrows arched. “But only for temporary use.”

Clarice hid a smile. When Hope got on a roll, things happened. The only bad thing about moving out of the dormitory was missing the late-night or middle-of-the-night comfort sessions. But if the girls needed her, someone would point them in the right direction.

Hope yawned, then rubbed her eyes. “Thanks, everyone. I think I’ll go lie down before Celia’s glares melt me into a puddle.”

Celia put a hand to her chest, eyes widened to appear innocent. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Hope swung her feet to the floor. “Is it all right if I stop by the john on the way, Madam Warden?”

“We could always get you a wheelchair.”

“Just try it.”

Clarice returned to her office and called Inez. She eyed the corner where she could set up a cot. Perhaps she could find a box, too, to hold a lamp. After Inez had thanked her profusely, Clarice hung up and sucked in an invigorating breath. Feeling useful was a better tonic than molasses in spring.
If only they could catch Gregor the jerk and get me back some money.
Was that an impossible dream?

Andy flawed down a cab. She would have taken BART, but she had two duffel bags full of clothes for the girls that she had taken from her own closet, a large suitcase full of Lavender Meadows bath and body products for gifts and for testing at the Saturday Market, her portable sewing machine, and her own weekender carry-on.

She hadn’t seen Martin since he’d gone on his business trip. When he called to say he wouldn’t be back on Monday as planned, she bristled and started to say the same things she always said. Then she remembered the promise she’d made to herself, to treat him with kindness and love, and she changed her tone. “I understand,” she said. “I’m disappointed, but if that’s the way it is, then that’s the way it is.” She was equally careful when she told him she would have to go home for a while, that she had things to catch up on, but that she’d be back as soon as possible. He seemed flabbergasted. Obviously, he’d expected a fight. “I love you,” she ended.

She was glad she’d gone home. Her mother and Shari had deliberately not told her about the orders that had come in, probably because they wanted her to enjoy herself. There was another big order from Nordstrom and one from a small chuin store called The Country Woman. At the rate Lavender Meadows was growing, she would
have to build a warehouse to hold her inventory. But that was down the line. Way down the line.