Second Chance at Hope

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  “Bankruptcy?” I repeated.

  “What else can I do if they slam me with the hospital bill? It’s bound to be huge! More than I’ll make all year. Maybe in a lifetime. They’ll come after me. I know they will.” Despite the multiple piercings and the need for a shave, Sid looked like he was all of five years old and ready to have a melt-down.

  “Let’s take this one step at a time,” I said. “Bankruptcy is a long way off. Remember the other driver hit you, so her insurance should cover your injuries. There are lawyers who can help you. Trust me on this, okay? Good. Let’s go back to your computer. When was the last time you saw it?”

  He screwed up his face, winced again and said, “In my room. At the hospital. I emailed you.”

  That was right; he had.

  Sid twisted in his chair to stare up at my grandfather. “Poppy, you carried my things to your truck. They made me ride in that wheelchair. Said it was hospital policy. Remember?”

  Somewhere along the line, Sid had begun calling my grandfather “Poppy.” The endearment brought a tender smile to the old man’s face. That signaled good news about their relationship. Sid badly needed more loving adults in his life. My grandfather needed more responsibility and a reason to get up in the morning.

  “Yup,” Poppy said. “I got you into the house and then went back and carried the backpack and that there sack of your clothes into your room. But that backpack felt lighter than a seagull’s feather.”

  “My computer is a notebook. It’s small,” Sid said.

  “It has to be at the house, right? Somewhere,” I said. Knowing how messy Poppy’s place was, the computer could be well hidden.

  “It sure wasn’t at his old trailer, but I coulda sworn that there bag was nearly empty. It was awful lightweight.”

  MJ shook her head ever so slightly in a motion of sympathy. Honora sighed. Skye picked up the sugar bowl and pointed it at my grandfather. I understood instantly what she was saying. Poppy isn’t always as compliant about his diet as he should be. Like most diabetics, he’s prone to fuzzy thinking when his blood sugar is out of whack. I had to wonder how cogent he’d been when he took Sid home.

  “Poppy did you happen to look inside the backpack when you put it in your truck?” I asked.

  “Nope. I’ll look for it when I leave. Maybe the computer fell out in the truck,” Poppy said. “Could be under one of the seats.”

  Time to move on. “I’m sure we’ll find it. Sid? I just want to tell you again, how happy I am to see you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “But you’re worried about your paperwork. Your accounting stuff.” His eyes blazed with anger.

  “Of course I’m worried about that and about your computer, but I’m also worried about you. You come first. You know that. Cut me some slack.”

  “Right.” Sid lifted his chin defiantly. This was a boy who didn’t trust adults. He especially didn’t trust adult women. And why should he?

  “Hang on, buddy.” I rested light fingers on his wrist, the one that wasn’t covered in plaster. “Let’s back up a bit. I care about you. If you’ll recall, I was the first person at the hospital. The minute you had them phone me from the ER, I raced to your side. Since then, I’ve visited you every day. Poppy asked you to move in with him because I suggested you could keep each other company. I’ve told you that you’ve still got your job. No matter what. In fact, I’ve told you repeatedly that you don’t have to come in until you feel better. Sure, I’m worried about the computer and my financial statements, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you first.”

  It wasn’t until I shut up that I remembered one of the side effects of a hard hit to the head: emotionalism. Would this be the new normal for Sid?

  “Yeah.” His voice cracked. “Cara, I’d never, ever, never let anything happen to your business. Swear on a stack of Bibles. Ever.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I also reminded myself, He’s an eighteen-year-old boy with a head injury.

  “I know you’ve done everything in your power to protect my business.” I gave him a hug that he accepted stiffly.

  I also knew Stuff happens. For years, we struggled to keep our family restaurant afloat after my ex-husband, Dom, had gone to the media and suggested my father had taken advantage of his creativity when he was working as a poorly paid intern in our kitchen. Meanwhile, Dom opened his own restaurant with a menu very similar to ours. As it turned out, my father’s non-compete contracts with his staff weren’t worth the paper they had been written on, much less worth the amount he’d paid a fancy attorney to draw up the agreements. Consequently, I had learned the hard way that even vigilant entrepreneurs can get tripped up. My father had been cautious, prudent, and honest as George Washington’s face on a dollar bill. He’d also been taken for a fool.

  MJ went over and stood next to Skye. Honora rose from her stool and bookended MJ. Forming a line of solidarity, my three friends faced me. MJ gave a tiny thumbs up, Skye offered a slight head bob of approval, and Honora winked at me. In their own quiet ways, they were trying to reassure me. I’d done right by Sid. He’d been worried, rightly so, and I’d been crystal clear about my affection for him.

  Poppy cleared his throat. “Granddaughter? I’ll go rustle up that there computer. It’s bound to be at the hospital, in my house, or in my truck.”

  I only hoped he was right.

  CHAPTER 12

  To celebrate my son’s sixth birthday, my parents and I took him to Disney World. My son’s favorite part of the park was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. We would stand in line, hop on, ride the ride, and get back in line to do it all over again.

  In the hours that followed, I mentally nicknamed this day, “Cara Mia’s Wild Ride.” Visions of my new dress brought a smile to my face, but that didn’t last long. The smile was turned upside down when I considered the possibility that somewhere, out there, my financial information might be floating around. If someone got into Sid’s computer, they would know I was living on a shoestring that had been stretched tight. I had faith I could make a go of this business, but I’ll admit that the numbers did not look promising.

  Here we were in January, a few weeks out from Valentine’s Day with little to boost our sales. Sure, Skye had decorated our front window in winsome colors of baby blue with dark red hearts and pink touches. Yes, customers were walking through the front door. But could we make enough now, during Season, to last through the doldrums that would inevitably come after our snowbirds went home?

  I sure hoped so.

  But as it happened, things started to look pretty good as the day wore on. Customers came in and bought one big piece after another. Mentally, I totted up the sales and decided we were doing very well indeed. In fact, we were selling home furnishings at such a clip that I needed to apply my best thinking to another problem, our lack of space. We needed a workshop and staging area where we could prep used furniture, paint it, and get it ready to sell. With all those challenges buzzing around in my head, time moved along swiftly. Because Skye was working across the street at Pumpernickel’s, the task of waiting on customers fell largely to me.

  As usual, I handled a multitude of problems when I wasn’t busy ringing up sales. A delivery truck had run over a customer’s new grass. A woman, who had ordered placemats made by EveLynn, wanted matching napkins and a table runner. A client who had seen Honora’s work on our website hoped to commission a room box for her daughter who was graduating from high school. A vendor wanted credit references. Bills had to be paid.

  A little after one, my stomach grumbled. There seemed to be a lull, so I took the chance to walk into the back and see how Jack was doing. One hand was on the latch of his crate when my dog went totally bonkers.

  “Cara?” The soft male voice behind me caused my stomach to take an elevator ride to my toes. Steeling myself for the encounter, I counted to ten before answering with a wobbly, “Yes?”

  But I could barely hear myself over Jack’s raucous barking. He hopped up and down, banging
away at the crate walls.

  I didn’t turn around right away. Facing Cooper Rivers, my first love, is always hard. If I expect to see him, I give myself a little pep talk so I’m prepared. But a chance meeting such as this is always unsettling.

  “Cara?” the voice repeated.

  There was no help for it. After crossing my arms over my chest in a gesture that any psychologist would label “defensive,” I faced Cooper and stared up into his warm brown eyes. The periphery of my vision picked up a fuzzy yellow blur. A big yellow dog stood at Cooper’s side. One of the mutt’s ears was folded over while the other stood straight up. His brown eyes studied me intently. Normally, I would have introduced myself to the pooch and tried to make him my friend, but I was frozen into position, like the tin woodsman in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. My legs had turned to gelatin as I zeroed in on Cooper. “What do you want?”

  It came out more harshly than I intended. The mutt sniffed Jack’s crate, and that little Chihuahua of mine wiggled his tail with joy. A loud hiss from under MJ’s desk signaled that Luna, my cat, was not as enthusiastic about the visitor as Jack.

  “Could we talk?” Cooper asked. “It’s about Dick. I thought maybe we could go into your office.”

  “Honora?” I went over and tapped her on the shoulder. She often became so engrossed in her work that she blocked out all activity around her. “Would you go keep tabs on the sales floor for me?”

  “Of course, dear.” With a nod, she toddled off.

  Jack quit barking and started whining.

  Without a backwards glance at Cooper, I headed for my office where Sid was working on my computer. “Sid? Could you give me a minute here?”

  “Sure.”

  He clattered around with his crutches but managed to limp out. I somehow managed not to look at Cooper as I sank down into the chair behind my desk.

  “Ooph!” I had come face to face with a cold wet nose. The yellow mutt was leaning over me with one paw on each shoulder.

  “Down,” said Cooper, as he tried to get a purchase on the leash. “Gerard, get down.”

  But Gerard wasn’t cooperating. A pink tongue curled out to caress my face. The pooch stared into my eyes. To my amazement, he smiled, exposing doggy teeth and a sliver of pink gum. He looked so comical that I giggled. “Gerard? What a stupid name for a dog.”

  The mutt slurped my ear. I hugged him and stroked his head. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? I can tell. What is he?”

  “A Bahamian Potcake dog.”

  “Oh. Never heard of them.”

  “I hadn’t either until we got him.”

  Gerard’s tail did a slow rhythmic wag.

  “Yup. You’re a darling. Now you have to get down because you’re blocking my way.” Carefully I gathered his paws and guided them toward the floor. Gerard pivoted to take his place at my side. Backing up, he eased his butt into my lap.

  “Okay, fine,” I said.

  “Down,” said Cooper.

  Gerard ignored him.

  “Come.” Cooper tugged on the leash. Gerard’s collar popped off and flew past Coop.

  “Hand it over,” I said. When he did, I slipped it around the dog’s neck. “Seriously, Cooper. The dog is fine.”

  “But you’ll get his hair all over you.”

  “Big deal. Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

  Cooper reached behind his chair and closed the office door. Gerard sighed with contentment as I scratched his ears.

  “As you know, I had offered Dick a job as head mechanic at our new Fill Up and Go station. He agreed to come and work for us. Unfortunately, the folks in charge of hiring have told me that Dick can’t pass our physical.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. “My grandfather is as spry and agile as the day is long. He’s not sick. Sure, he’s got diabetes, but we’ve gotten that under control.”

  I crossed my fingers where Coop couldn’t see them. Mostly we had Poppy’s diabetes under control.

  Cooper looked down at the floor. “I know. Believe me, Cara, I’ve been over and over this with the HR department. I even told them that I can’t see how this could be legal, but they’re insisting that he’s too big of a risk. They won’t let me name him head of the department.”

  “Okay, so don’t give him a title. Just let him work for you. He’s capable, but the title would be icing on the cake, right? Why not hire a newbie to be the chief mechanic but let Poppy be his right hand person? Wouldn’t that work?”

  “Um, no.” Cooper avoided my glance. “Unfortunately not. I made the same suggestion.”

  “You have to be kidding me.” I sounded stressed because I was. Poppy had been counting on that job. It was a matter of pride to him. How would he be able to face his former customers? What about the people he’d told about his new position at the Fill Up and Go?

  And wasn’t a problem like this exactly what I’d hoped to avoid by snapping up this building?

  Yes, it was.

  I fought it, but the news hit me like a blow to the gut.

  A soft whimper escaped from Gerard. He watched me intently, taking in every word. For a mute animal, his sympathetic gaze spoke volumes. Gerard was clearly worried.

  “It’s okay, puppy,” I said as I reached up to rub his soft, floppy ears. “Look, Cooper, Poppy’s been counting on that position. He’s been talking up the new gas station to all his old customers. This will be a crushing blow. Isn’t there some way you can convince them to reconsider? Sounds like age-ism to me.”

  “I know. I pointed that out to them.”

  “So can you do anything? Yes or no. Be straight with me.”

  “I have serious doubts that they’ll change their minds. The young woman who runs their HR Department is just out of college. I don’t think she puts any value on Dick’s years of experience. In fact, I don’t think she believes he’s a viable job candidate, period. She mentioned how all the cars today are run by computers. I get the feeling she’s dead set against hiring your grandfather.”

  “Crud. I should have insisted we get this in writing when I sold you the old Gas E Bait. Or I should have demanded that the new people keep Poppy on a retainer until the building is completed.”

  “I’m not sure that it would have made any difference. Given her attitude, she would find a way to force him out. Do you remember what you were like in your mid-twenties? A little taste of power goes a long way. She’s the type who’d drag this thing out until…”

  He didn’t have to complete the sentence. I knew what he was getting at. Poppy couldn’t live forever.

  “Let’s be frank,” Cooper said. “If you’ve got enough of a legal department working for you, you can hassle other people into doing what you want. If we did convince them to hire Dick, I’m a hundred percent certain they’d find a reason to dump him.”

  I sighed. “Does Poppy know?”

  “No.”

  “Thank heavens for small favors.”

  “I can tell him,” said Cooper.

  “No way. It has to come from me. This is going to kill him.”

  It had been difficult for my grandfather to give up his old gas station, even after he discovered the underground fuel tanks were leaking. Rather than shut his doors, he’d simply let the tanks run dry. After the oxygen system gave out on the shiners’ tank, he quit carrying the minnows he had been selling as bait. But he had never, ever given up working on people’s engines. My grandfather loved fixing cars. He enjoyed any sort of tinkering, problem solving, and repair work. A steady stream of vehicles had passed through his shop. He woke up each day excited about getting to work. His business had kept him mentally agile.

  How was I going to break this bad news to him? How would he react when he found out that he’d been shoved aside by a business that had taken over the corner lot where his gas station had been a fixture for so long? I shuddered to think about it.

  “The folks at the Fill Up and Go home office think that Dick is all washed up. That he has no value. I�
�ve tried and tried to explain otherwise, to get them to review his records, to interview people who know him, or even talk to his doctor. All to no avail. This young woman has dug in her heels. She’s not even taking my calls anymore. I can’t change her mind.” Cooper spread his fingers wide in a gesture of submission. “I give up, Cara. I’ll see if I can find another place for Dick to work, but I don’t see any way for him to get involved with the new gas station.”

  “Don’t you dare say a word to him.”

  “I’m involved in this up to my eyeballs. I worked to help get the franchise to come here. But of course, I didn’t realize what would happen when this new HR person came onboard. It’s the law of unintended consequences in action. So it is my problem.”

  “But he’s my grandfather. My family. I’ll handle it.”

  Reluctantly he said, “If you insist.”

  “I do. I repeat, don’t you dare tell him. I’ll be the one to do it.”

  CHAPTER 13

  As I locked the back door behind Cooper, Honora glanced up from her workspace. “Are you all right, Cara, darling?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Thank you for asking.”

  No way was I going to burst into tears, even though they threatened. Instead, I compartmentalized my conversation with Cooper. His concerns went into a little brown box that sat next to my worries about Sid’s computer.

  “How’s the contest entry coming?” I was struggling to sound interested although really, I wasn’t. Not right then.

  Honora’s laugh reminds me of wind chimes. “It’s not coming along at all, yet.”

  “Why not?” I went over to her work table, expecting to see what the matter was.

  “First I have to order the kit.”

  “Kit?” I repeated.

  “Every Creatin’ Contest begins with a kit. That’s the basis of the project. After you buy the kit, you can build it as per the instructions or bash it.”