happened?” She shifted her aching ankle and saw her house down the block. She was almost home.
Michael chuckled. “They’ve been looking even harder since this afternoon. The mayor called an emergency meeting for seven o’clock tonight. Your accident apparently inspired renewed interest in that matter.”
“Great,” she muttered. As visible as she was in the community, she deliberately avoided politics and local controversies of any kind, although her role in Welleswood’s renaissance had required that she participate in both for a while. Her name, no doubt, had been invoked more than once tonight, and her accident put her square in the center of the never-ending battle between the critics of skateboarding and the advocates.
As Michael turned into her driveway, she checked the clock on the dashboard. Eleven forty-five. Good. This horrendous day was almost over. She leaned back in her seat and relaxed. Nothing could happen in the next fifteen minutes to make the day any worse.
Ten minutes later, with her three “girls” nestled alongside her on the couch and Madge in the kitchen, Andrea learned how very wrong she could be. No wonder Jenny left with Michael without even coming inside. Anyone who had known Andrea for more than twenty-four hours would have known better than to do what Madge had done.
Andrea clenched both hands into fists and counted backward from ten to zero before she allowed herself to call out to Madge, who was in the kitchen tagging the casseroles that friends had dropped off for Andrea’s freezer. “Let me get this straight. This afternoon, while I was being treated at the emergency room, you left and showed the Campbell house for me at three o’clock, even though you don’t have a real estate license, which means, of course, that if anyone finds out, I could lose my license!”
Madge poked her head into the living room. “I know that, silly. I didn’t go alone. Doris Blake went with me, but it was more like four o’clock by then. Doris has kept her license current, and she was happy to help. She promised to stop by to see you tomorrow and tell you all about it.” Madge grinned maddeningly and popped back into the kitchen.
Andrea’s heart took a quick leap and began to pound. Doris Blake was the woman who had called and left a message on Andrea’s answering machine about wanting part-time work. “I don’t believe this. You took Doris with you?”
Madge returned to the living room with a tray and set it on top of the coffee table. “You missed supper, so I fixed you some iced tea and a light snack. I bet they didn’t feed you at the hospital, did they?”
Andrea’s stomach growled. “As a matter of fact, they didn’t.” She nibbled on a cracker topped with cheese spread. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Why not? It always works for you.”
Andrea tightened her jaw and stared at her sister. “This is important. This isn’t a game. This is about my business. My livelihood.”
“Exactly,” Madge countered. “Which is why I asked Doris to be there today. I also know you can’t shut down your office for six to eight weeks, but unless you have someone undeniably reliable and qualified, you won’t give yourself the time you need to rest and recuperate from your spill today, either. Need I mention the fact that you have weekly chemo scheduled, too? That’s why I spoke to Doris, and she’s agreed to come work for you starting tomorrow. Well, actually, I guess, she really started today since she showed the house.”
Andrea gasped. “You’ve hired her to come work for me?”
Madge beamed. “I knew you’d be surprised. Pleased, too, aren’t you? And just a little amazed at how fast I can work? I might not have been in the business world like you’ve been all these years, but I’ve learned a lot, volunteering as much as I have. Besides,” she added as her eyes filled with pride. “I remembered what you said when I told you I wanted to help you, even before you
Heidi Belleau, Amelia C. Gormley