Adding Up to Family

by Marie Ferrarella

  “It’s a video game,” Steve explained. “It’s Stevi’s—Stephanie’s favorite. I am having a really hard time remembering to call her that,” he complained. “Anyway, suddenly, without any warning, she’s switching gears on me.”

  “By asking you to call her Stephanie,” Celia said knowingly.

  “That’s part of it,” Steve admitted. “The other part—the bigger one—is that she suddenly seems to be growing up right in front of my eyes.”

  “They have a habit of doing that,” Celia told him wryly. “I think it might have something to do with the daily watering,” she added, tongue in cheek.

  Distressed over what was going on in his life, he barely realized she was trying to lighten the mood.

  “What I’m trying to get at is that all of a sudden, Stevi’s got these questions I don’t know the answers to. I mean, I know the answers, but I just can’t—I just can’t...” He trailed off helplessly.

  “I understand, Steve,” Celia told him kindly. “Your daughter’s at a crossroads in her life. It’s an admittedly delicate area and sometimes a young girl just needs to talk to another woman, no matter how close she is to her father.”

  “Yes!” Steve cried, relieved that she understood what he was attempting to clumsily put into words. “I need someone who knows how to cook, who’s neat, and most of all, for Stevi—Stephanie’s sake, I need someone who is understanding and sympathetic. Someone who my daughter can turn to with all her unanswered questions and be comfortable doing it. I know it’s a lot to ask,” he confessed with a sigh. “And I don’t mean to be putting you on the spot like this. To be honest, I’ve been considering the possibility of perhaps sending Stevi to boarding school.”

  “Boarding school?” Celia repeated, surprised. She couldn’t think of a worse idea. She had a feeling his daughter would wind up feeling rejected if he did that. “Have you spoken to her about it?”

  “No, not yet,” he admitted. “But I thought that it might be best for her, all things considered.”

  Celia wanted to tell him how bad she thought that idea was, but managed to refrain. Instead, she tactfully suggested, “Why don’t you hold off on that, Steve? Let me see if I can find someone for you who could fill that bill, before you decide to do anything rash.” Realizing that he might think she sounded judgmental, Celia softened her words by saying, “I’m assuming that you really don’t want to send Stevi away.”

  “No,” Steve confessed, “I don’t. But she needs more than me right now. She’s got questions about, well—” he dropped his voice “—bras and boys and the changes her body’s going through that I can’t figure out how to address without embarrassing both of us. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Mrs. Parnell?”

  “Completely,” she assured him. “Do me a favor, Steve. Hold off doing anything permanent for now. Don’t start calling any boarding schools just yet. Worst comes to worst, I’ll fill in as your housekeeper for a few days and be there for Stevi when she comes home after summer school, so you won’t have to worry about her. I’m sure we can resolve this situation to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  She could almost hear the weight falling off Steve’s shoulders.

  “You are a lifesaver, Mrs. Parnell,” he told her with genuine enthusiasm and gratitude.

  “It’s all part of the service, Steve,” Celia replied warmly. “One way or the other, I’ll be getting back to you,” she promised, before hanging up.

  The moment she terminated her call to Steve, she was back on the phone, calling first Maizie Sommers, who was the unofficial leader of their informal group, and then Theresa Manetti.

  She informed both women that she needed to have an emergency meeting with them.

  * * *

  “Okay, we’re here,” Maizie announced, as she and Theresa walked into Celia’s house later that afternoon. Because she spent a good deal of her time driving from place to place, Maizie had swung by Theresa’s catering business and picked her up before coming to Celia’s. Theresa had been making last-minute changes to a menu for an anniversary party that she and her company were catering tomorrow afternoon. “So, what’s the big emergency?”

  “I need to run something by you,” Celia told her friends.

  “And you couldn’t do this on the phone?” Maizie asked. “Celia, we went over conference calls. Are you still having trouble with that?”

  Celia shrugged. “I’d rather see your faces when I talk.”

  “Uh-oh. Is this something we should be sitting down for?” Theresa asked, taking a seat at the dining room table.

  Friends since the third grade, the three women had gone through all life’s major events together—weddings, births, deaths—and supported each other through the good times as well as the bad.

  “Maybe you had better sit,” Celia said. “It’s nothing bad,” she added quickly. “But this might take me a little time to explain.”

  Waiting until Maizie was settled, as well, Celia finally sat down and began talking. “You know how one of us is usually approached by either a parent or a friend to find someone for their son or their daughter, or maybe even friend, and then we all sit around this table and brainstorm, trying to find the perfect match for that person?”

  Maizie studied her friend, wondering what was behind this. “You’re preaching to the choir, Celia. Where are you going with this?”

  “Fair enough,” Celia agreed. “I could be clearer.”

  Theresa laughed. “You think?”

  “I had a friend,” Celia started. “Actually, she’s the mother of one of my employees. Anyway, she asked me to find someone for her daughter.”

  “All right,” Maizie said. So far, this sounded no different than anything they normally undertook. “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s not a problem exactly,” she replied. “I actually think that I came up with the perfect person for her...” Her eyes swept over her friends. “I just wanted to run this choice by the two of you before I make the introduction.”

  “So run it by us,” Maizie encouraged, waiting for her to get to the heart of the matter. Celia didn’t usually have this much trouble making up her mind.

  “He’s a single dad and his daughter’s at an age where she’s starting to ask those kind of questions,” she said. “He told me that he needs a competent housekeeper, as well as someone to field such questions for him.”

  “And this employee of yours, you think she’s a match for this single dad?” Theresa inquired.

  “Well,” Celia began cautiously, “he’s an aerospace engineer and she graduated MIT at age eighteen.”

  “Wait a minute. I don’t understand,” Maizie protested, trying to make sense out of the scenario. “She graduated MIT at eighteen? No offense, Celia, but what is she doing working for you?”

  Celia smiled. “I know. It sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

  “Not if she’s in the witness protection program,” Maizie quipped.

  “She’s not. She’s just kind of conflicted. When Becky first came to me,” Celia said, filling her two friends in, “she said she was looking for something ‘different.’ She felt burned out and she just wanted something that wasn’t mentally taxing to do, something that made her feel as if she’d accomplished something basic and simple at the end of the day.” Celia smiled. “Like cleaning a bathroom.”

  “Well, that’s basic and simple, all right,” Maizie agreed.

  “Anyway, my point is that I think they have a lot in common and could help one another,” Celia concluded. Again, she looked from Maizie to Theresa, waiting to get their take on the situation.

  “Any red flags?” Maizie murmured.

  “Not that I can see,” Celia replied honestly. She’d gone over their backgrounds a number of times before Theresa and Maizie had gotten here. “Personally, I think they’re made for each other.”

  “Well, if that�
��s what you think, it’s good enough for me,” Maizie said. “Theresa?”

  She nodded. “We’ve all gotten good at this,” she told her friends. “I trust Celia’s judgment.”

  Maizie totally agreed. “And if she’s right, we’ll all get the credit,” she said with a satisfied chuckle. She put her hand on Celia’s shoulder. “Have a little faith in yourself, hon. We do.”

  “All right, then,” Celia declared, getting revved up. “I’ll call Steve tomorrow and tell him that I have a housekeeper for him.”

  Maizie beamed. “It’s settled, then,” she stated. Then the corners of her mouth curved even more. “You know, ladies, since we all came rushing out here and settled this so quickly, how do you feel about a game of cards?”

  “You mean play cards without talking shop?” Celia asked.

  “You know, it just might be unique at that,” Theresa speculated.

  Playing cards had always been their excuse for getting together and brainstorming. Usually one of them would have been approached by a parent, and brought that candidate to the table to be discussed and pondered over until the right match was discovered.

  “What will we talk about?” Theresa asked innocently.

  Maizie laughed, shaking her head as she took out the deck of cards she always kept in her purse. “We are three intelligent women, each with a thriving business and a whole tribe of grandchildren. If we can’t find something to talk about other than the love lives of some strangers, then the world is in a very bad state,” she told them.

  “Don’t forget all those successful matches we’ve managed to set up and bring together. As I recall, we’re batting a hundred,” Theresa said.

  Maizie smiled at her as she began to shuffle the cards. “A thousand, dear. The correct term for that is that we’re batting a thousand.”

  “But we haven’t brought together a thousand matches,” Theresa protested.

  Maizie sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Never mind, dear. The point is, we’ve been exceedingly successful, and even if our streak ends today, we still have all those happy matches to point to.”

  “Why should our streak end?” Theresa asked. “We’re very good at what we do. There’s no reason to think we can’t go on doing this for the foreseeable future.”

  “You’re right,” Maizie agreed. “We might very well be doing this for as long as we draw breath.” She paused for a second, looking at her friends. “Okay, ladies, no more talking. Let’s play cards.”

  “Right, like that’s going to work.” Theresa smirked. “If I know you, you’ll be talking until the day you’re six feet under.”

  “You think that’ll stop her?” Celia asked with a laugh.

  “No, you’re right,” Theresa agreed. “Probably not.”

  “Play!” Maizie ordered, doing her best to keep a straight face.

  Chapter Two

  “Stevi?” Steve called up the stairs to his ten-going-on-eleven-year-old daughter, as she was apt to remind him any number of times in a week. “Get a move on. You don’t want to be late for class and I don’t want to be late to work.”

  The petite, dark-haired girl frowned as she came down. “Dad, I told you to call me Stephanie,” she stated, stepping into the living room. “And I also told you that I’m perfectly able to walk to school. You don’t have to risk being late to work just to take me there.”

  They’d been over this ground a dozen times in the last six weeks, ever since Stevi had decided that she had outgrown practically everything. Next, she’d decide that she’d outgrown him.

  “Maybe I like taking you to school,” Steve told his daughter. “Did you ever think of that?”

  A tired, sympathetic look passed over her face. “Dad, I’m growing up,” she said wearily. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”

  She hardly looked any older than she had six months ago, or even a year ago, but he knew she was. It was inevitable, just as she maintained.

  But he didn’t have to like it.

  Stifling a sigh, Steve put a hand on her shoulder and hustled his only child out the door. “Don’t be in such an all-fired hurry to grow up, Stephanie. Enjoy being a kid a little while longer.” He closed the door and locked it. “Trust me, it goes by fast.”

  “I’ve been a kid, Dad,” Stephanie pointed out, sounding a great deal older than her actual years. She got into the car on the passenger side and buckled up. “And it’s not going by nearly fast enough. At least, it isn’t for me.”

  Steve started up the car. He knew he was losing this argument.

  “Well, it is for me,” he told her. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that we’re going to be getting another housekeeper. I talked to Mrs. Parnell and she called back this morning to tell me that she has the perfect match for us. She’s going to be bringing her by this afternoon, right after I drive you home from school.”

  Steve stifled another sigh, knowing that his next words were going to be useless, but he said them anyway. “I want you to be on your best behavior, Stephanie. That means that I don’t want you to do anything to scare this one away, understand?”

  “I didn’t do anything to scare Mrs. Pritchett away,” Stevi protested. “She left us because she was going to be a grandma.”

  “She left because she had already become a grandmother,” Steve corrected, wanting Stevi to get the details right.

  She maintained a bored expression on her face. “What’s the difference?”

  He made it through the next light just before it turned red. He didn’t think the topic was worth getting into now. “I’ll explain it later.”

  Stevi sighed, sinking lower in her seat and crossing her arms indignantly. “That’s what you always say when you don’t want to explain something.”

  He decided that the best thing for now was to ignore his daughter’s rather salient point. “Mrs. Parnell is bringing the new housekeeper by this afternoon—”

  “You already said that,” Stevi pointed out impatiently.

  “And I’m saying it again,” he told her. “I’ve rearranged my schedule so that I can pick you up from school and then we will meet this new housekeeper together.”

  Stevi raised her small chin, a bantam rooster just itching for a fight. “What if I don’t like this one? What if she’s like Mrs. Applegate? Or Mrs. Kelly?”

  “Please like this one,” he implored. He was torn between begging and telling his daughter that she was going to like the new housekeeper or else. He resigned himself to trying to reason with Stevi—again. “And for your information, there was nothing wrong with Mrs. Applegate or Mrs. Kelly.”

  Stevi sniffed. “They were both jumpy and nervous.”

  Caught at another red light, he spared his daughter a penetrating glance. “And who made them that way?”

  The expression on his daughter’s face was nothing short of angelic as she replied, “I don’t know.”

  Right. “I’ve got a feeling that you do. And never mind them, anyway,” he said dismissively. “We’ve got a chance for a fresh start here, so let’s both try to make a go of it.” When his daughter made no response, he added, “Please, Stevi? For me?”

  “It’s Stephanie,” she stressed pointedly.

  “Please, whoever you are,” he said through almost clenched teeth, as he pulled up at the school where Stevi was taking summer school classes, “do it for me.”

  Stevi released a sigh that seemed twice as large as she was. Getting out of the car, she nodded. “Okay, Dad, if it means that much to you, I’ll try.”

  “Do more than try,” Steve called after her. “Do.”

  It was half an order, half a plea, both parts addressed to his daughter’s back as she walked away, heading toward the building.

  He hoped that this new housekeeper Mrs. Parnell had found came with an infinite supply of patience. Otherwise, he thought glumly as he pul
led away, he was going to have to start looking into boarding schools in earnest.

  * * *

  Moving his lunch hour so that he was able to pick Stevi up from summer school, Steve arrived at the school yard to find that most of the cars that had been there earlier were now gone. It was a sure sign that everyone had already picked up their child and gone home. Steve really hated being late, hated the message it sent his daughter: that she was an afterthought, even though that was in no way true.

  She was the center of his universe, but he seemed to have lost the ability to get that across to her.

  Scanning the immediate area, he saw Stevi standing at the curb, a resigned, somewhat forlorn look on her face.

  “I could have walked home,” she told him by way of a greeting when he pulled up beside her. “You didn’t have to come running back for me.”

  Leaning over, he opened the door for her, then waited for her to get in. “I didn’t run. I drove.”

  Stevi glared at him in a way that told him he knew what she meant.

  There were times when it was really difficult to remember that she was only ten years old. It seemed more like she was ten going on thirty—and he didn’t know how to handle either one of those stages.

  Not for the first time, he wondered why kids didn’t come with instruction manuals.

  “Anyway, you forget,” he told her, pulling away from the curb, “I had to bring you home so that we could meet the new housekeeper.”

  “Housekeeper,” she repeated in a mocking tone. “You know that you’re really getting her so you have someone to watch over me,” she accused.

  “In part,” Steve allowed, unwilling to lie to his daughter. He had always been honest with Stevi, and until a little while ago, that had been enough. It was the reason they had a bond. But these days, it seemed as if nothing was working, and he felt, rightly or wrongly, that it was his fault.

  “I don’t need to be watched,” Stevi informed him indignantly, continuing her thought. “I’m too old to have a babysitter.”