Instead of answering immediately, Jen washed silently and handed over every plate, piece of silverware and serving dish. He wasn’t sure she was ever going to speak to him again, but she let the water out of the sink, then snatched the towel from him and wiped her hands dry.
“It’s hard to stay mad at you.”
Will did his best to control his eyebrows and the urge to blurt, “Really? You make it look so easy.”
“You’re the only sister I have, Jen. I don’t want this distance between us.” He towed Chloe over and clasped her hand. “We need you.” He glanced down at Chloe, and sure enough, his daughter could be counted on. Her pleading eyes were second to none.
Jen grimaced. “No fair. Using the most awesome niece in the world against me.”
Chloe held her hand up for a high five that he returned. The smack echoed in the kitchen.
When he tried to get Jen to join in, she crossed both arms over her chest. “Just...back off until I ask for help. That’s what the best big brothers do. I need to do some things for myself, like standing up to those bullies. What you failed to grasp was that, once you were gone, I was a target all over again. But I had to fight my own battles. I can do it.”
She shrugged. “But you are the only brother I have. Control your overprotective impulses and we’ll be okay.”
As long as he didn’t do anything to stir the tempest again. Like, say, make her attend a meeting with her least favorite person in the world.
He should enjoy the détente while he had it.
“How’s the house hunt going?”
Jen turned on the water again so she could wipe the countertops, a chore he’d seen Brenda do every single day when he’d been lucky enough to live in Holly Heights.
“Not bad. My agent has a long list of houses for us to tour tomorrow, after this meeting you’ve set up. I wanted to get Stephanie’s opinion.” Jen rubbed her nose on her shoulder. “Stupid itch. Never fails. When my hands are wet, my nose itches. Rebecca will love everything as long as it has a nice oven and enough counter space to roll out battalions of gingerbread men.”
Brenda moved in short bursts around her kitchen as she packed up the leftovers in plastic dishes. “What about you, Brenda? Want to register your opinion?”
Before Brenda could answer, Jen said, “She has to work. She’s always working.”
“Because I like to work.” Brenda started clearing the stack of dishes Will had dried. “Why don’t you get that? You haven’t turned in your notice at the high school. How many millionaires teach summer school, I’d like to know.”
“That’s different.” Jen studiously wiped down the spotless sink before moving to the kitchen table.
Jen stiffened when her mother stepped right into her path, forcing her to halt. “It’s not. You like your job, the kids, the teaching, even the math club. You’d miss it if you quit.”
Brenda had never been one to back down.
He should have seen the same quality in Jen before she’d had to hit him over the head with her side of things. Did Brenda ever regret raising her daughter to be as tough as she was?
“Maybe. That doesn’t change the fact that I’d like to have you around more.” Jen dropped the dish towel on the counter and walked away. “I have a text message.”
Chloe trailed behind Jen into the living room. Will watched her go and wondered what he could do to get Chloe more time with Jen.
Brenda shrugged as their eyes met. “These are for you.” She took out a bag and placed a plastic container inside. “No one whose face lights up when homemade vegetables hit the table should be forced to go home without leftovers.”
Will wrapped his arm around Brenda’s shoulders as she fussed with the care package. “She’s tough,” he said. “Like you. You should be proud.”
Her snort sounded eerily like Jen’s. “I am. I wish she could remember who is the chip and who is the old block. I did stubborn first and better.”
Will chuckled. “As long as you two are at odds, I’m making progress. Jen and I have a truce...for now at least.”
Brenda tapped his hand. “Better make hay, my boy. We spend a lot more time in cahoots than fighting.” Then her smile slowly faded. “I’m part of the problem between you two, though. Why didn’t I see that?”
“You love her.” Will hugged her tightly. “And you love me. Together, if you guys are patient with me, we’ll figure this out. I want that. For Chloe.” He sighed. “But mostly, I want it for me.”
That was hard to admit. All along, he’d told himself he was upending his life to improve his relationship with his daughter. But the Holly Heights, Brenda and Jen parts of the equation were mostly about him. Chloe would enjoy having more family, but he needed them.
He’d spent a lifetime dreaming of being part of a close-knit family.
Surely this fight meant they were going in the right direction.
“And we all know Will gets what he wants,” Jen said from her spot in the doorway. This time, her tone was more “annoying little sister” than “angry woman with a pistol in her pocket,” so he was certain they were making progress. “Since Mom’s busy tomorrow, Chloe has graciously volunteered to add her opinion on the house hunt. I like her style.” Jen winked down at Chloe, who had pulled her bangs forward in a close approximation of Jen’s fashionable haircut.
“If that’s okay with you, Will.” When he nodded with so much enthusiasm the muscles in his neck cramped, Jen clapped her hands. “What’s for dessert?”
“I made your favorite—apple pie.” Brenda waved at the pie with a flourish and Jen made fists in the air with both hands.
“All right. My favorite. I like how this is going.” Then Jen tapped his chest. “She’ll do your favorite next time. Because you aren’t missing dinner again. Got it?”
Jen scooped a huge piece of pie onto a plate, pretended to offer it to him and then slipped right by. She took a big bite and watched Brenda bustle around to serve him dessert. Chloe had switched sides of the table. At that minute, she was mimicking Jen’s slump in her chair.
He might need to address that before he sent her home to Olivia.
Will was nearly certain things couldn’t get any better, but then Jen said, “I’ll get your opinion on whatever property I pick. Resale value and investment potential can be tricky to guess.”
Instead of jumping up and down, Will nodded sedately. “Sure. Another calculation, an unbiased review of the pros and cons for such a big purchase, makes sense.”
Jen tilted her head. “Right. When you take along Stephanie and Rebecca, the best you get are questions about how things make you feel and wouldn’t you rather have the more expensive option. Stephanie’s taken to spending my money while she hoards all of hers for HealthyAmericas.”
“Buying new cars, new houses,” Brenda said with a sad shake of her head. “It’s like I taught you nothing.”
“Hmm... When you sit in the new recliner I bought for you today, you may change your mind about the luxury of new.”
Brenda opened her mouth to fuss but closed it. “Fine. I like furniture. I’ll give it a try.”
When Jen’s mouth dropped open, Will said, “Watching the frugal versus fabulous money-spending showdown is going to be fun.”
“Don’t let her spend it all, okay?” Brenda pointed at Jen. “And especially not on me.”
Will laughed at Jen’s groan and Chloe’s giggles and decided that he’d made the right decision. Win or lose at Barnes Financial, spending time with Jen and Brenda had been exactly what he and his daughter needed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MIDNIGHT WAS NOT the best time to redecorate, but it was more exciting than staring up at the ceiling and listening to Bub snore. Her proposal was finished and she’d spent the morning answering Will’s phone and greeting his visitor: a nice doctor from Waco.
It had been refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know a thing about her except that she answered phones and brewed coffee.
Since she’d made it back to the
shelter, she’d hustled to take care of the animals, but the worry about her meeting with Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen was always ticking in her brain, draining her energy.
Unfortunately, that also made it impossible to sleep.
“Let’s do something about this office, then.” Bub seemed to frown as she got off the couch and bumped him awake. “Sorry. Don’t let me disturb you.”
The boxes she’d taken from Will’s office had only added to the clutter, but she made quick work of taping them back together. “Eight boxes. Let’s see what we can do.”
Figuring the most important papers would be near the top, Sarah eased between the two largest stacks of files, pulled two boxes closer and started digging. Adoption papers, bills, donor information—everything was piled together but followed a weird system mainly organized by time. “Like the rings of a tree. The bigger the stack, the older it is.”
She added a third box and started separating the papers into groups. Instead of getting overwhelmed as she read, something she struggled with on any big project, Sarah broke it down to make the work fast and easy. Once the first boxes were filled, she moved them out into the lobby and resumed with her remaining boxes, until finally...
“The stacks. I did them all.” Sarah stretched the hard kinks in her back as she glanced at the clock. “Whoa. Three hours. Tomorrow will definitely be a concealer kind of day.” Every muscle complained as she moved the last boxes into the lobby. The labels written in fat black permanent marker were bold, clear and satisfying.
It wasn’t a perfect system, but if she had to find a piece of paper that had been previously buried in a teetering tower of paperwork, at least now she’d have a clue where to start.
“Why didn’t I do that weeks ago?” Sarah mumbled as she made another peanut butter sandwich. Without Bub’s shadow, she might as well be the only person in the world that night. The shelter was quiet.
For the first time in too long, she felt confident. Not pretending to be certain, but satisfied she’d conquered a gnarly task.
Other people would have done it differently.
But they weren’t here.
And that was okay.
Measuring herself against some other standard of performance, one that might exist only in her head, had kept her from doing what she could do.
Did she like paperwork? No. Was it needed? Probably. Was there any reason to be afraid of making a filing mistake? Nope.
Discovering she was a paperwork genius was encouraging, even in the early hours of Saturday morning.
And the meeting with Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen would go a different way if someone else was in charge, but she was here, she’d prepared and, whatever happened, she was sure doing something was a lot better than standing aside, letting Paws for Love fail because she was afraid.
As she walked back into the office, Bub lifted his head and sniffed the air, as if he could smell the bouquet of peanut butter. Sarah waved both empty hands and Bub stuck his nose back under his tail to resume his nap.
“All right.” Sarah braced her hands on her hips as she surveyed the still-small but now-adequate office. “The suitcase stands out like a neon sign. And the papers scattered across the desk look even worse.”
Now that she’d started, Sarah was determined to ignore how late it was. She sat down in the awful desk chair and created stacks following the same system. She made a note to clear the decrepit filing cabinet of everything but current business and the previous year’s.
“Organize filing cabinet. Paint. New chair.” She winced as a fold of tape poked her thigh. “I should have put that at the top.”
Under that list, she started a new list. “Paint for the lobby. New bulletin boards.” She stared up at the grimy window and added curtains to the list. Her first night in the office, she’d been worried about people looking in. Eventually, she decided it was too far off the ground for the casual Peeping Tom.
And that had to be good enough.
Looking out the window, she almost thought she could see light, as if a car or truck was out front. Bub, her crack security team, was snoozing comfortably, so it was easy enough to let go of her paranoia. Who would want to break in? It was clear the place had zero dollars on hand.
Besides that, the lights were on. A clever thief would wait until the place was empty before breaking in.
“It’s late.” Sarah refused to check the clock again as she flipped the light switch and ignored Bub’s grumbles to stretch out beside him. “I’ll start again in the morning.”
Which came entirely too soon. At least having no window coverings meant she didn’t need an alarm clock.
“Up and at ’em, Bub. We’ve got a big day.” Sarah stretched and slipped into her work clothes before she let Bub outside. When the first group of dogs had raced out to the play yard and their pens were cleaned, water refilled and the food distributed, Sarah ate her peanut butter sandwich and then scoured the place for a closet that could hold eight boxes of paperwork.
“Morning, boss. You beat me to the punch already. Got a late start,” Shelly said cheerfully as she wandered down the hallway. Then she said the magic words. “I brought coffee.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. I needed this.” Sarah raced down the hall to slide to a stop in the lobby. Shelly held out the cup. Sarah snagged it and drank deep.
She closed her eyes and waited for the caffeine to ignite.
“All right.” She blew out a breath. “I’m going to kill this day, Shelly. That was all that was missing.”
Shelly pointed at the boxes. “Late night?”
“Yeah.” She cradled her coffee.
“Me, too,” Shelly whispered loudly, almost vibrating with excitement. “You’ll never guess what happened. Les and I, we went dancing. In Austin. On a date.”
Shelly and Les, her two retired volunteers, had been out dancing while she stared up at the ceiling and worried about bills. What had the world come to?
Watching Shelly bounce up and down on her toes lightened Sarah’s mood considerably. “Wow. And you’re still dancing.”
“I may never stop,” Shelly answered in a singsong. “Man, it’s just... You know how life makes you think all people do is let you down and then you meet the one who doesn’t? You have to dance.”
Sarah forced herself to set the coffee cup down before she spilled any. Then she surprised Shelly and herself by hugging her tightly and dancing around with her. Whether she knew the feeling Shelly described or not, she knew it was worth dancing over.
Will immediately came to mind and Sarah could picture the smile he’d give them if he were here.
The fact that she missed seeing it in person should frighten her, but Shelly’s exuberance was impossible to shake. When they caught their breath, Sarah decided business would keep her on track. “I hope this is just the first celebration of the day.” Shelly nodded and raised her coffee cup. “Unless I can find a place to put those boxes, they’ll go right back into the office. Got any ideas?”
Shelly frowned and studied her coffee cup. “I don’t know when I’ll get over being surprised by you, Sarah.” She picked at the plastic lid. “But you work so hard.”
Sarah smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt, a knit that had once been part of an amazing outfit she’d worn for lunch at the country club. Now it was covered in hair and had three small holes, thanks to a puppy named Zelda.
When she drank her coffee too fast and had to cough and sputter, Sarah muttered, “Thanks. If I don’t choke myself to death with overexcited coffee drinking, I’ll get back to work.”
Shelly giggled and Sarah felt something loosen inside her chest. Ever since she’d been on her own, she’d wondered if she had what it took to make people like her. Not her money or what she could bring, but her. All by herself.
Making someone laugh confirmed that she had at least some of what it took. Her own chuckle was small, but sharing it with Shelly, who’d propped her up for so long, was sweet.
“I
know where we can put those boxes,” Shelly said before easing around the counter. “Follow me.”
In the center of the storage room, Shelly said, “We can move all these bags into cans and store them in the hallway. That will make feeding the dogs easier.” She tapped the big bags of dog food. “That’s what we did before Marley took over.”
“Think we have time to do that after the second group goes out?” Sarah grabbed her cell phone to check the time. Then she noticed a missed call from a number she didn’t recognize. Was it a wrong number or had her father changed phones again?
Anyone could lose a phone. But this seemed like a clear indication he was changing them to avoid...something.
Shelly grunted as she tried lifting one of the large bags of dog food. Sarah hurried over to help. “I’d like to have the place in good shape for this tour. Hiding those boxes will help.”
Shelly set her coffee cup down and brushed her hands together. “The two of us? Yeah, we can do whatever it takes.”
Just like that, Sarah’s face hurt from grinning.
She was almost convinced Shelly was right.
“Dog food. Here we go.” Sarah put her own coffee cup down and committed herself to Shelly’s direction. By the time they’d cleaned the cans, emptied the food, moved the boxes, let the second group out into the play yard, cleaned their pens, restocked their food and water and fed all the cats, Sarah was aching from head to toe.
But there was no denying Paws for Love was ready for its audition.
They couldn’t do a thing about the state of the roof or floors or yellowed paint, but every surface was clean, the animals were happy and her report was as ready as she could make it.
All that was missing was another cup of coffee.
“Hello, hello, hello!” Les called as he brought in a wave of warmth and sunshine. The smell of hamburgers drifted out of the paper bag he set on the counter. “I got here in time to miss all the hard work. I guess I have the knack.” He froze in front of Shelly, one hand held out, until she shook it slowly. Then he held up a cardboard drink carrier and Sarah had to clasp her hands together to prevent grabby motions. “However, I did bring food. And drink.”
Heart's Refuge (Lucky Numbers) Page 12
