Free Peaches in Winter by Alice M. Roelke Page B

sounds great,” he agreed. He followed her out to the kitchen, helping her carry the rest of the plants to the sink to be watered or re-potted. She would position them around the house later.
    Right now, it was time to start the meal. Her mother’s chicken and dumplings were always better when they were slow cooked, and she thought hers were, too.
    While she worked, she was pleased to hear him tapping on his typewriter, at first slowly, then more quickly and steadily. It was a nice sound to work by. Betty smiled and stirred together the dumpling batter.
    When they were eating several hours later, she broached the topic of a job for her friend. “Do you think Mr. Armstrong might have any spare secretarial jobs?” she asked after almost clearing her plate of the soft dumplings and tasty boiled chicken.
    Jake’s hand twitched, making his fork clatter oddly against his plate. He did not answer or look up.
    She stared at him, wondered if he’d heard. “Do you think Mr. Arm—”
    “Yes, I heard you,” said Jake, shortly. “I’m sure he does.”
    He sounded rather nasty. Betty tilted her head slightly and looked at him, a small frown on her face. He finally looked up at her, and she saw his blue eyes looked clouded, upset. What was wrong now? He’d seemed to be enjoying the food. Maybe he didn’t like to be interrupted while he ate.
    But it hadn’t seemed to bother him yesterday...
    “Well, I wondered if you could talk to him about it, maybe recommend my friend—”
    “Your friend?” exclaimed Jake. “Why didn’t you say—” He bit off the words and quickly took another forkful of food.
    She stared at him. “Yes, my friend Mary. Didn’t I mention her? She needs a new job. She got fired from her old one, but it wasn’t her fault.”
    Mr. Watterson seemed to have recovered himself. He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you don’t know the circumstances.”
    “Oh, but I do,” said Betty. “You’re the one who doesn’t know the circumstances.” She stopped, embarrassed. I’m being rude again, aren’t I? And not talking right. “I’m sorry. What I mean,” she said awkwardly and slowly, “is that she explained to me what happened, and I believe her.”
    Jake gave a nod and did not seem particularly interested. “I’ll speak to Matt, of course, but I doubt he’ll hire on the word of someone else. Even if it’s you.”
    “I promised I’d try to help her find a job, since I know it wasn’t—” She stopped. “Well, I just know…”
    “Perhaps you’d better tell me what the horrible thing is that you’re trying to avoid saying.” Jake’s eyes sparkled at her wryly, like a smile.
    Betty found herself smiling back. She didn’t want to tell him, not really, but still she found it a relief to get the words out. “My friend was ac-accosted, if that’s the word I mean?” She wrinkled her forehead.
    “Go on.”
    “Mr. Kidd tried to—well, he didn’t act much like a gentleman. Mary wouldn’t have any of that, but Mr. Kidd got her boss, Mr. Vernon, to fire her.” Betty blinked, surprised by the succinct way she’d been able to put all that. Usually it would have taken her five or ten minutes to give that much information. Maybe Mr. Watterson’s terseness was starting to rub off on her.
    Jake stared at her. “That’s not —” He seemed to be about to continue but swallowed back his words. Shook his head. “That can’t be right.”
    “Oh, but it is.” Betty leaned forward, anxious to convince him. Mary might not be hired on her good word, but she felt certain Mr. Armstrong would hire her on the word of Jake. If she could convince Jake, Mary’s troubles would be over. She only needed a job for a few months longer, and then she could quit and marry her boyfriend, Bob.
    Betty felt responsible for her friend—not because she thought she could have done anything to prevent what happened, but because she didn’t want her friend to suffer as she’d done after her unfair firing. If Mr.