Cam grinned. He had gray hair and a mustache of the same color, and the way his blue eyes twinkled reminded Elena of the stereotypical illustration of Santa Claus. “My pleasure. And besides, it's self-serving. If the hospital closes, Anabelle says she's retiring. And if Anabelle retires and hangs around the house all day, my honey-do list is going to grow by a mile!”
Elena laughed aloud. “I can't imagine Anabelle retiring,” she said.
Cam's pleasant expression altered in a subtle manner, letting her see the concern in his eyes. “Me neither. She loves nursing and working at Hope Haven. She's going to be devastated if that hospital closes. Private duty won't be fulfilling enough for her.”
“The community would be devastated.” Elena was equally sober.
“That's why we’re here—to do our best to stop that from happening,” Cam said, clearly attempting to lift her spirits again as he summoned a smile.
The bell over the door of the little shop jangled merrily for a moment as he pulled open the door. Inside, it was cool. At first, it appeared dim; but as Elena's eyes adjusted, she saw there was plenty of white light pouring down from a few utilitarian fluorescent lights.
A woman came through a door on the back wall. “Hi. I’m Andrea Clud. How can I help you?”
“We need to talk to you about engraving,” Elena told her.
“Certainly.” Andrea gave her a subdued smile as she picked up a pen and set a clipboard with a form in front of her.
“I would like to get a price on engraving a brick. It's for a fund-raising idea.” She went on to explain to the woman what she wanted and how the bricks would be used.
“What a wonderful idea!” the woman enthused. “Of course we can help you with that. We have some lovely color choices available at very reasonable prices, and I might be able to give you a discount if you guarantee a certain number.” She tapped a few keys on the keyboard at the computer on the counter, then swiveled the monitor to face Elena and Cam. “Here are a couple of different ways we can approach it. I can give you prices on each, and if you would like to choose a couple, we could even engrave the bricks so you would have a sample.”
“That would be fantastic!” Elena was thrilled to be putting her idea into tangible form. “Let's check these out,” she said to Cam, leaning closer to the monitor.
While they viewed the possibilities, Andrea disappeared through a door at one side of the office, and Elena caught a glimpse of a large, dusty workroom with several solid tables, large chunks of marble and a few unfamiliar-looking machines.
Elena debated the options with Cam, and they chose three different looks, with varying typefaces, ornamentation and surface treatments. Just as they finished, Andrea came back through the door.
“I have some good news,” she said. “My husband and I would like to contribute something to your efforts to keep the hospital open. Therefore, we would like to donate the first five hundred bricks and engraving costs.”
“Really?” Elena's voice rose with excitement. “Mrs. Clud, that's a very, very generous offer. Are you sure? I mean, that's a lot of money.”
Cam laughed and shook his head. “Elena, never argue when someone wants to give you something.”
Both women chuckled. Then Andrea Clud said, “We’re sure. My husband's brother had a stroke last year. He survived and recovered completely because this hospital was so close by that they were able to administer the new clot-busting drug treatment very quickly. We feel very strongly that Deerford needs Hope Haven Hospital.”
Elena was so ecstatic she had to stop herself from jumping up and down and grabbing Cam and dancing around the room with him. “Thank you so much!” she said, taking Mrs. Clud's hand and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.
She was able to focus long enough to give the woman the information on the three samples of bricks they wanted to have. After a final thank-you and farewell to Mrs. Clud, Elena preceded Cam out of the shop. As they got back into the truck, she clapped her hands together in delight.
“The first five hundred bricks. Can you imagine? Five hundred! All of the income from those will be pure donations with no overhead!”
Chapter Nine
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, THE FOUR FRIENDS MET FOR lunch in the staff lounge, where there were several small tables. They had intended to meet in the courtyard, but midway through the morning it had begun to rain once again, so the plan was hastily changed.
James was already there reading a magazine when Candace and Elena came down together from the second floor. “Hello, ladies.”
“What are you reading?” asked Elena.
James held up the magazine he’d been perusing. “An article about an orphanage in Romania.” He shook his head. “I think it's hard for us to imagine the substandard conditions those poor children live in.”
Candace nodded. “A girl from my church went on a mission trip to work in one of the orphanages for three weeks. It changed the whole course of her life. She changed her college major from Biology to Early Childhood Education. After she graduated, she actually moved to Romania and still works there as a volunteer. Our church gives her annual support so she doesn't have to work elsewhere to make ends meet.”
“What an inspiring story,” Elena said. “I’d like to read that article when you’re done and then show it to Anabelle when she gets here.”
All four were working that day, although Anabelle had mentioned that she probably would be late; so Candace, Elena and James began to eat without her.
Candace picked up one of the newly engraved bricks that Elena had set in the middle of the table.
“I just picked these up this morning,” Elena told them. “These are the three different samples Cam and I chose. I’d like you to look at all of them and rank them from favorite to least.”
“And should we choose a color too?” The bricks were variations of the same color family, a light pinkish-brown shade against which the engraving showed up clearly. Candace ran a finger over the engraving before passing the sample to James.
“No, we’ll be using several different shades like these. Cam and I originally had chosen a dark brown color, but the lady at the monument company suggested using a lighter shade so that the writing would show up better.”
“Looks like she was right,” James said. “This is really nice.”
“Have you shown these to Zane McGarry yet?” Candace asked.
Elena shook her head. “We have a meeting scheduled for tomorrow.”
“Oh, I hope this idea flies.” Candace could see a lovely little courtyard in her mind's eye. It would be wonderful if the plan really did stimulate enough income to keep the hospital open. Then she remembered something else. “I had another idea for you,” she said to Elena. “If you’re interested. If not, that's okay—”
“Of course we’re interested,” Elena said. “Since I’ve made this connection with Zane and we’re discussing fund-raising, I’d be happy to give him any additional ideas. What did you have in mind?”
“All the departments of this hospital are important as well as helpful to the community,” Candace said. “But I think that when a baby is born here, it gives a family an even closer tie to Hope Haven.”
Elena and James both were nodding in encouragement, so she took a breath and went on.
“Perhaps the hospital could send out a letter to every person in the community who was born here, or their parents, in the case of children. It would be a good way to let people know what is happening or to reinforce the concern if they’re already aware.”
“That's a terrific idea,” Elena exclaimed. “I wonder how many hundreds of people that would reach.”
“Hundreds? More like thousands,” James said. He nodded approvingly at Candace. “I think it's an idea par excellence.”
“Thank you.” She cocked her head. “Par excellence?”
He grinned. “It's French. Literally, it means ‘by excellence.’ Outstanding, supreme, preeminent.”
Elena and Candace chuck
led. Just then Anabelle entered the lounge and came to the table. She set down a wrapped ham sandwich and a cup of soup from the cafeteria and then went to the coffee machine on the counter and poured herself a cup, dropping a quarter into the can beside it.
Anabelle was smiling by the time James had recounted his vocabulary lesson. Candace was glad to see her friend smile. Anabelle had looked tense when she came in. Still slightly concerned, Candace reached over and lightly squeezed Anabelle's hand. “Everything okay? You looked as if you might have had a trying morning.”
Anabelle's eyes were warm when she turned to Candace. “The morning was fine. But I had a Bike Smarts meeting right before lunch. It's a great program, but sometimes the meetings get a little contentious.” She sighed. “I believe all the other committee members regard me as the controlling type.”
“Imagine that,” James said in a dry tone.
Anabelle hit him playfully in the shoulder with a balled fist. “All right, so maybe I am. But I’m personally invested in this program. It's been my baby since the very beginning.”
“I think it's a terrific program. Brooke got a bike helmet last year after her class completed the program.” Candace sat up straighter. “I didn't realize it was your idea.”
Anabelle nodded, and her large brown eyes darkened. “Kirstie was hit by a car when she was ten. One leg had to be amputated, and she had head trauma. She probably would have died if she hadn't been wearing a bike helmet. So I feel pretty strongly about them.”
“Oh, Anabelle,” Candace said. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” The mere thought of a child almost the same age as Brooke being struck by a car gave her goose bumps and tightened her throat in sympathy. “Your response to the accident is so positive,” she added sincerely. “I imagine there have been a number of children who have escaped serious injury thanks to you.”
Anabelle blushed. “Thanks to the entire community, who supports it financially when we have our fund-raisers.” She looked at the bricks in the middle of the table. “So catch me up. What's going on with our Wall of Hope?”
Elena went straight to the conference room on the first floor after work on Wednesday. She walked in just as Zane McGarry, the Chief Financial Officer of the hospital, entered. Right behind him was Quintessa Smith with a laptop computer.
The CFO's assistant flashed her bright smile at Elena. “Hey, girlfriend. How are you?”
“I’m great!” Elena never failed to be uplifted and energized by Quintessa's ebullient spirits. “How about you?”
“Also great. And I love this Wall of Hope idea.” Quintessa set down her laptop and powered it up. “Zane gave me a brief summary of what you want to do.”
“And you have more information for us today, right?” Zane took a seat at the end of the table, motioning for Elena to sit across from Quintessa.
“I do.” Elena set down her file folder and plopped the brick in the middle of the table. “Here is a sample of what one of the bricks might look like.” She went on to explain the thinking regarding the light color and the costs for two or for three lines of text. Then she carefully laid out a large sheet of paper that she had rolled up like a poster. “This is one design possibility for the courtyard,” she told them. “Anabelle Scott's husband Cameron drew this up for us. He also has indicated that he would be willing to take on the project as a volunteer.”
That got Zane's attention. “As in we wouldn't have to pay him? He’d actually build it?”
Elena laughed. “Exactly. He's retired, so he has the time. He used to own a landscaping company, so he has the skill to do masonry work. And he feels strongly about keeping Hope Haven open, so he has the motivation.”
Quintessa picked up the brick and ran her fingers lightly across the engraving. “This is really classy, Elena. How much would we charge people for them?”
Elena hesitated. “I’m not sure. There are two schools of thought. The first is to set a price for an engraved brick. The second is not to charge any fee, except for additional engraving, and let people make donations. I believe I prefer this option. I think people would give with their hearts open, considering the need we have.”
Quintessa's dark eyebrows shot up. “But what if they don’t? What if the donations don't cover the cost of labor, much less any real donation to fund saving the hospital?”
Elena smiled. “It's a question of faith, isn't it?” She pulled out a stack of papers, handing a sheet to each of the others. “Here are several calculations for possible income from this project, just to give you an idea of what we might expect.”
Zane glanced quickly down at the page. “I think asking for a donation is a great idea. We probably would make more money that way.”
Quintessa shook her head. “In my opinion, that's too risky. The project could end up costing us money, even with Mr. Scott's volunteer offer.”
Zane pondered this and then said, “People who make donations for these bricks will know their money is going to help keep our hospital open. They’ll be generous.”
Quintessa snorted. “I think you’re seeing our fellow citizens through rose-colored glasses. If we don't set a minimum donation, we won't make the money this place needs.”
Elena cleared her throat and held up a hand before Quintessa could fire another round. She decided she was glad she didn't work in an office with the two of them. “This committee won't be making any decisions.” She glanced at Zane. “Despite our personal opinions, our job is to put together recommendations for the board of directors. They’ll be the ones to decide how best to handle it.”
Zane nodded. “I guess we might as well write up both possible donation ideas to present to the board.” It was clear he wasn't thrilled about it, but Elena knew Zane was highly regarded as an ethical administrator. Despite his personal views, when he took it before the board, his presentation would be scrupulously balanced.
“All right.” Quintessa began typing madly on her keyboard, as professional as Zane was, even though they disagreed. “I’ll put together a packet with an overview of Elena's Wall of Hope idea, a copy of Mr. Scott's design, the brick pricing, the Clud Monuments people's generous offer, and these donation options for you to take to the board meeting.” She directed the last at the CFO.
“When will the next one be?” Elena asked him.
“We just had a meeting last week,” Zane told her. “So there isn't another regularly scheduled one until next month. I think I’ll call Mr. Telford, the president of the board, and see if we can't call a special meeting to present this. I don't think we can afford to wait long.”
The serious note in his voice alarmed Elena as much as the letter they had received. If the chief financial officer was that worried about funds, then it was even more imperative that they raise money.
“Hey, Dad, you fouled me.” Nelson Bell stopped playing basketball and glared at his father. “I quit.”
James sighed. Nelson didn't enjoy team sports nearly as much as his older brother, and he could only be counted on for about ten minutes of play before he wanted out. Instead, he excelled on his swim team.
“Five more minutes,” he said. “Just you and Gid. I’ll watch.”
Nelson sighed, but he allowed himself to be persuaded to come back onto the “court,” which was really just the driveway outside their two-story brick home. James considered himself the victor. He used any opportunity he found to encourage Nelson to participate.
When the game was concluded, Gideon went upstairs to his room to finish some homework while Nelson headed for the shower.
James pulled a load of laundry from the dryer and tossed it into a basket, which he carried into the living room where Fern sat chewing on the tip of a pencil as she worked a crossword puzzle.
“What's a six-letter word that means to absorb or drink in?” she asked without looking up.
“What's it start with?” he asked as he set down the laundry basket.
“Don't know,” she said. “But it's blank-blank-b-i-b-blank.”
/> James shook out a pair of Nelson's jeans as he mulled over the letters in his head. “Imbibe.”
“I-m-b-i-b…E! Yes! Wow, thanks. I can't believe you got that.” She looked up at him, smiling. “One more reason I’d better keep you around.” Laying the puzzle aside, she scooted forward in her chair and reached for a T-shirt to fold.
As the two of them worked together to get the basket of clothing folded, James decided it was time to mention the possibility he’d been kicking around for some time. “What would you think,” he asked slowly, “of renovating the office and making it a master bedroom?”
Fern's hand stilled on the socks she had just matched. “A bedroom down here?”
“Yes.” In reality, he didn't think they had much of a choice unless they wanted to move. Although she still got around fairly well, Fern had days when her balance was off enough that she scooted up and down the stairs on her bottom rather than walking, a precaution he’d insisted on after she’d fallen down the stairs and bruised her shoulder badly a few months earlier. “The office could be moved upstairs in our bedroom. We could turn the half bath down here into a full bath with an extra-large shower stall.”
“You’re thinking of a shower big enough to accommodate a wheelchair.”
He nodded. “I thought it would make your life a lot simpler. If our bedroom was down here, you could nap in bed rather than lying on the couch to avoid going up and down stairs.”
“And you’d worry less.”
“I might.”
“It's a good idea,” she admitted. “But can we afford it? You’re not just talking about swapping some furniture around. A remodel would involve new walls, plumbing and electricity…all that gets costly.”
James sighed. “We could take out a loan. Though we should probably wait until this job situation is resolved one way or another before taking on additional debt.”
Fern nodded. “I agree. But it's a very thoughtful idea.” Her smile faded as she added, “One of these days, I may not be able to do stairs at all.”
The Best Medicine Page 9
