The process looked like a bunch of clumsy circus clowns had taken over the troop. Tents sagged. Poles collapsed. Kids got stuck inside and had to fight their way out.
By the time James had the tents straightened out and the boys had taken them down again to stow them away, James was exhausted and his sides ached from holding in his laughter.
On the way home in the van, Nelson said, “That was great, Dad. I can hardly wait for the camping trip.”
“Me too.” He mentally groaned, though, praying the Scouts would retain at least some small part of what they’d learned at the meeting that night.
On Wednesday, Mr. Varner called a meeting of employee representatives to discuss the impending pay cuts.
James had previously been chosen to serve on an employee grievance committee and so had Elena. They were joined in the conference room by Eddie Blaine, a hospital custodian and handyman, and Lori Neff, an admissions clerk. Pastor Tom was among the group as well.
With her usual efficiency, Penny Risser, Varner’s executive assistant, had arranged copies of the hospital budget, a yellow pad of paper and a pencil at each place at the long conference table. A huge white poinsettia had been placed on the counter behind the CEO.
James pulled the budget closer and flipped through the pages. It looked a lot more complicated than his household budget, involved millions of dollars and showed a huge deficit. Turning off a few lights to save electricity wasn’t going to fix the hospital’s financial woes.
In his household, James didn’t think the effort would solve all of their problems, given the way the cost of Fern’s meds continued to skyrocket, but it was a start.
Albert Varner, impeccably dressed in a dark suit and tie, sat at the head of the table. He cleared his throat.
“I believe we’re all here,” he said. “We’ll begin with—”
Penny, who was sitting next to him, leaned over and whispered something in his ear.
“Well, yes,” he muttered. “We’re all here except Mr. McGarry, our financial officer. I’m sure he’ll be along shortly. But we can begin with the reason for this meeting.”
Eddie raised his hand. “Mr. Varner, with all due respect, if you’re going to announce an even bigger cut in our pay, you can kiss Hope Haven good-bye. The employees aren’t going to stand for that. I’m telling you, we’ll stage a walkout. Every last one of us.”
A red flush stained Varner’s cheeks. “No, no. That’s not why you’re here at all. In fact, preventing a walkout is exactly what I’m trying to do.”
James had heard a few rumblings about a walkout, but he didn’t think it was a serious threat. Maybe he’d been wrong.
“A lot of the office staff are really worried,” Lori said. In her forties, she’d always had a quick smile and friendly disposition. She wasn’t smiling now. “We’ve got several single mothers who are trying to support their families on what little they already make. Taking this big a cut is going to hurt them.”
“I’m aware of that.” His face still red, Varner shuffled through the papers in front of him. “That’s why I wanted to explain—have Mr. McGarry explain—why the cut is imperative if Hope Haven is to stay in business at all.”
Penny found the paper he was looking for and put it on top of his stack.
In a nervous gesture, he smoothed his dark hair away from his forehead. “You’ll see very clearly on page four that the projected income without the ten percent cuts in salary will not sustain the hospital.”
Papers rattled as everyone at the table searched for the page he was talking about.
“I need you, as employee representatives, to be able to explain why the cuts are so necessary. I want the employees to know—”
“It’d be better if you explained to the grocery store why the hospital employees can’t pay for their groceries next month,” Lori said.
“I understand,” Varner said, his voice conveying sincerity. “If it helps any, our entire executive staff—myself included—is taking the same ten percent cut in pay.”
“Bravo for you,” Eddie muttered under his breath.
Not wanting the discussion to get too far off track, James interrupted. “I think we ought to let Mr. Varner explain why the hospital is short of funds for the coming year. If we know why, then maybe we can help solve the problem instead of putting all the weight on his shoulders.”
“Yes, yes.” Fumbling with his handkerchief, Varner wiped his forehead. “Let me start from the beginning.”
Penny quickly rearranged her boss’s papers.
He cleared his throat again. “As you’ll see on page one, there are several factors that have created what you might call a perfect storm.”
He went on to delineate the funding sources, both public and private, that had reduced or eliminated their contributions to the hospital.
James tried to take notes, but the government jargon, the several insurance carriers involved and the names of various foundations became a confusing blur. The effect of the absent dollars was clear, however. Hope Haven had to cut expenses. The easiest expense to cut was employee salaries, which could be done by closing an entire medical unit, laying off employees or reducing everyone’s salary.
McGarry finally arrived and verified everything Varner had said as being the truth.
Varner concluded, “If we close medical units and lay off employees, the entire community will suffer. All of the services we offer are needed right here in Deerford. In lieu of that drastic measure, I made the painful decision to cut salaries by a relatively small amount in order to keep Hope Haven a full-service hospital. The board agreed.
“Meanwhile, I’m working as hard as I know how with our funding sources to get them to restore their grants or reimbursements to previous levels. And I’m working with new sources to replace those that can’t or won’t continue to support us.”
After more than an hour of discussion, Varner ended the meeting and Pastor Tom led the group in prayer. “Dear Lord, once again we bring the problems of Hope Haven Hospital to You to seek Your help and guidance. We humbly ask that You give Albert Varner the wisdom and strength to protect the work we all do in Your name at Hope Haven and give us the understanding to face an uncertain future with courage and determination. We ask this in Your name. Amen.”
The weight of hopelessness settled like a stone in James’s chest. He’d simply have to find a way to live with a smaller salary. He could see no other choice.
As he and Elena walked upstairs to go back to work, she nudged him. “You’re looking all gloom and doom.”
“I guess you didn’t notice, things aren’t looking all bright and cheerful at the moment.” He pushed open the door to the second floor and held it for her.
She stepped through the door and stopped in front of him. “Come on now, James. What’s happened to your sanguineness?”
Frowning, he shook his head. This was no time for spelling games. “What’s bloodred have to do with the hospital’s budget problems? Except that’s the color of the balance sheet.”
“Ha! Gotcha!” she said with a grin. “Sanguineness means bloodred, but it also means optimistic. I looked it up. And you’re the most optimistic guy I know.”
A reluctant smile curled his lips. “You’re right, you got me.”
“Then I say let’s be optimistic. Let’s get everybody thinking and praying about ways we can help the hospital. It can’t hurt. And who knows? Together we might come up with a solution that would turn Varner’s balance sheet back to black.”
James appreciated Elena’s pep talk, but it didn’t buoy his spirits a great deal. He was far too aware of Fern’s deteriorating health and his inability to help her, plus his upcoming overnight camping trip with the Scouts.
The thought of leaving her and being two hours from home if she needed him knotted his stomach and made his palms slick with sweat.
The scent of stew simmering in the slow cooker greeted Anabelle when she arrived home that afternoon. She shrugged out of her coat and
hung it up.
Her search for Cameron took her outside. The horse they were boarding for their neighbor girl came to the corral fence, lifting her head in greeting.
For the moment, she ignored the horse. Instead, she walked to the barn where she found Cam kneeling on the ground surrounded by long planks of plywood, bags of potting mix, plastic water pipe and a rolled-up sheet of heavy plastic. He had on his old work pants and a jacket that had seen better days.
“My goodness! What are you up to, Cam?” The unheated barn was chilly and she rubbed her arms against the cool air.
“I’m building a greenhouse.” He stood and massaged the small of his back. “I’m going to start some perennials: black-eyed susans, delphiniums, cone flowers and a couple of lavender plants. Come spring, Evan will be able to put them right in the ground and won’t have to buy them from a wholesaler.”
“What a good idea. Evan will be pleased, I’m sure.”
“We talked about doing this last year, and I never got around to it. Thought I’d better get busy this year. I’m going to set it up to use the barn as a windbreak and lay out the whole contraption so it faces south and gets the most sun possible.”
It pleased her that Cam had found a project to keep him busy. He was always happier when he had something constructive to do.
“I’m going to go change clothes. The stew smelled delicious when I came through the house. Thank you for getting dinner started.” Since he’d retired, Cam had been good about helping around the house, for which she was very grateful.
“Before you go, lass, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
The slight edginess in the tone of his voice gave her a niggling feeling of unease. “What’s that, dear?”
“I found a picture on the kitchen table this morning of the kids when they were young playing with Skipper.”
“Yes?” She produced her most innocent expression. “The children always had such fun with Skipper.”
He grunted a noncommittal sound. “Then, when I sat down at the computer to check my e-mail, I found someone had printed out an article about how the elderly benefit from having pets to take care of.”
“Really? What else did the article say?” She didn’t actually think either she or Cam qualified as elderly yet, but that time wasn’t too far off.
“You’re still thinking about getting a dog, aren’t you?”
Her shoulders slumped and she gave up her pretense. “Cam, I went by the animal shelter Monday after work. I wasn’t going to bring the puppy home. Honestly, I wasn’t. I was only going to take a peek and come on home. But—” Her throat tightened on her fear for the puppy. “He’s absolutely adorable and so friendly. But if no one adopts him by Christmas…”
Taking off his old gardening hat, Cam ran his fingers through his gray hair, then resettled his hat on his head. “They’ll put him down, right?”
“It’s so unfair. He’s such a darling boy.”
“I’m still not thrilled by the idea of having a dog.”
“I know. Maybe if you went to see him…” She knew Cameron rarely denied her anything she really wanted. But this seemed like a battle she might lose. That left her feeling empty inside, as though someone had torn a baby from her womb.
He looked off toward the far end of the barn and sighed. “I’m not going to tell you that you can’t have a dog, Annie. You know how I feel about it, and we’ll leave it at that.”
Anabelle wasn’t sure how to react now. She could adopt the puppy, but it would still be against Cam’s wishes.
“I simply can’t bear to think what will happen to the poor little guy if no one adopts him. I told the young man at the shelter that if no one else adopted the puppy by Christmas, I would. I’d pick him up Christmas Eve—tomorrow.”
“So be it.” With a nod, Cameron turned back to his greenhouse project.
Chapter Eleven
AFTER DINNER, ELENA WENT INTO HER BEDROOM and sat down at her sewing machine. She’d tried to keep her spirits up since the meeting with Varner. It hadn’t been easy. She understood the hospital needed to reduce expenses. But the trip to Spain that she’d longed for seemed to be slipping from her grasp like a distant mirage, vanishing just as she was ready to reach for it.
She gritted her teeth. There must be something she could do—
“Buela! Buela!” Izzy came running into the room, using her nickname for her grandmother. Dressed in her pajamas, she clutched her scruffy stuffed pig in her arms. Her dark curls bounced like puppets on a string.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Is my dress done yet? Can I see it?” Her light gray eyes sparkled with excitement.
Elena held up the red velvet dress, which she’d pieced together over the past few evenings. “I still have to put the white lace on it and hem the skirt.”
Taking the skirt in her little hand, Izzy rubbed it over her cheek. “It’s soft.”
“Yes, it is. And you’re going to look so pretty in it.” She gave Izzy a squeeze that made her giggle and made Elena’s heart fill with so much love, she thought it might burst.
Cesar came into the room. “Hey, what are my two favorite girls up to, making all that racket?”
Izzy squirmed away from Elena and latched her arms around Cesar’s legs. “I didn’t make a racket, Tito. She tickled me.”
“Ah, is that what happened?” Chuckling, he scooped her up in his arms. “How about Tito reads you a book before bedtime?”
“I want Green Eggs and Ham,” she squealed.
“Again? We read that last night.”
Elena smiled as Cesar carried the five-year-old out the door, still discussing the evening’s choice of suitable reading material.
Turning her attention back to her sewing, Elena pinned the lace around the collar, gathering it slightly, and slipped the fabric under the needle. From years of stitching together smocks and hospital scrubs and baby clothes, she instinctively set the needle bobbing up and down at the right pace, turning the garment as she went.
This was a skill her mother had taught her and she’d honed over the years. In the way some women relaxed by knitting, she found sewing a way to unwind after a hectic, stress-filled day at the hospital. It was how she coped with bad news. The purr of the machine, the instinctive matching of seams, bringing them together to make a whole and the texture and slip of fabric beneath her fingertips soothed her.
Lost in thought, Cesar’s voice startled her.
“You about done for tonight?”
She brought the needle to a halt and looked up. “You put Izzy to bed?”
“She was asleep before I finished the book.”
Elena smiled, amazed all over again that her husband, a tough cop, could be so gentle with a child.
“While I was sewing, I had a thought.”
“Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from thinking,” he teased, stripping off his shirt and tossing it into the dirty clothes hamper.
She snorted. “I’ll have you know some of us have excellent ideas.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your excellent idea tonight?”
She snipped the thread and folded the dress, setting it aside.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to make up for the cut in pay I’ll be getting so I can still put away a little every month for our trip to Spain.” She wanted Cesar to go with her, Rafael and Izzy too, if she could swing the expense.
Sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes, he nodded.
“The nurses at Hope Haven all like the scrubs I’ve sewn for them. A lot of them have young girls who love frilly clothes. I could take orders for custom-made baby clothes and scrubs and whatever else I can think of and make a little extra money that way.”
“Hon, it’s one thing for you to make a Christmas outfit for Izzy. It’s something else again to work every night just for a few dollars for the trip.”
“I don’t want to give up my dream.”
“You don’t have to. We’ll find a way to pay
for the trip. It might take a little longer than we’d hoped, but you’ll get there.”
“I can give it a try. See how it goes.” She didn’t want the sound of castanets and the music of the flamenco to fade from her dreams.
James sat on the couch with only the lights on the Christmas tree illuminating the living room—one of the boys’ electricity-saving efforts that brought the family together in a surprisingly pleasant and intimate family evening.
He and Fern had had twenty Christmases together. When they were first married and bought the house, they’d struggled to make ends meet. Their holiday celebrations had been simple. They’d exchanged small gifts. A book of poetry for her, a battery-powered drill for him to make chores around the house easier.
They’d never been happier. And they’d never felt the lack of possessions.
Together, they had all they’d ever need.
Until the boys came along. Gideon and Nelson had filled their lives and their hearts more than James could have ever imagined. They still did.
James had carried Fern upstairs to bed an hour ago. The boys had called it a night soon afterward.
Sapphire, who had curled up in his lap, was his only company now, and he idly ran his fingers through her thick fur.
Over the past several months, Fern had done her Christmas shopping online and somehow managed to wrap the packages for the boys. The colorful boxes were arrayed under the tree, a seductive allure that had the boys itching to unwrap their presents early.
James smiled at the memories of Christmas mornings past, the boys clattering down the stairs before dawn to open their presents, he and Fern almost as excited as they were to see the boys’ delight.
He glanced up at the angel perched on top of the tree, and in his heart he heard the words from the book of Luke:
An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
The words James remembered from the Bible and the story of Christ’s birth assuaged the terror he’d been feeling for Fern’s health and for his family, and comforted him. For the first time in days, he felt calm. The Lord had not deserted him; God was at his side ready to carry his burdens. James only needed to let go.
Strength in Numbers Page 9
