Free Mourning Becomes Cassandra by Christina Dudley Page B

such a big church she was the pastor who knew me best. I guess if Camden School still wanted me after talking to Margaret, who was I to say no? I cleared my throat. “I can’t wait to meet her—my student, I mean.”
    “You’re going to love her!” declared Mark. “Her name is Nadina Stern, and she’s a sophomore. She just joined the school this year. All the kids have heard now about the mentor program, but we haven’t told them more than that because we don’t know how many mentors we’ll have. But you can give her a call and explain who you are, and she’ll understand. Do you have a pen and paper?”
    I scrambled through Daniel’s empty kitchen drawers until I found a stubby pencil and an old receipt. “Shoot.”
    He rattled off her cell number and then told me the first optional group activity for mentors and their students would take place the Saturday after this one: a sailing trip on Lake Washington followed by a barbecue. “I’ll send you that information in an email, but we’re encouraging our mentors to hang out with their student before that.”
    “Absolutely,” I said. “At least, I’ll call Nadina and try to set up some times to hang out and get to know each other.”
    “That’s the spirit! Give me a call or shoot me a message if you try to contact her and can’t get a hold of her. She’s got a kind of fluid living situation at this point, but she’s making it to class. And remember, you don’t need to solve any of her problems, just love her. Call us if you feel something’s over your head.”
    “Okay,” I said weakly. He hung up, and I sagged against the kitchen counter. What did “fluid living situation” mean? Why exactly had I thought I was qualified to do this? I remembered Kyle complaining that all the other students were druggies. Were those the problems Mark had referred to? Oh, well, too late now. But at least I could procrastinate until I was finished with the Lean-To.
    On auto-pilot I put on fresh bedding and changed the towels and gave the shower stall a good scrubbing. In a hall closet I found a nicer vacuum than we had at the Palace, but after I finished the carpets, I couldn’t find a broom anywhere. Guess Daniel’s condo hadn’t had any hardwood floors, but what had he used in the kitchen and bathrooms? I borrowed the Palace broom but made a note of everything we would need to buy for the Lean-To to make this easier in the future.
    Finally there was nothing left to do, and I locked up and went back. I debated whether I should wait till after school to call Nadina, but I chickened out: voice mail would be easier to begin with. That way she could call me back when she felt like it.
    To my dismay, Nadina picked up her cell phone. Glancing at my watch I saw it must be lunch. “Hello?” came her voice, high-pitched and slightly skeptical.
    I cleared my throat. “Hello, Nadina. My name is Cass Ewan, and I’m calling because I signed up to be a mentor, and Mark Henneman paired us up. Have I caught you at a good time?”
    “What?”
    “Is this a good time to talk?” I clarified.
    “Yeah, I mean I’m eating lunch.”
    “Oh, great. Well, I’d love to meet you and get to know you. Would you have time to get coffee after school one day this week? I could meet you at school, and we could walk to Tully’s.”
    She must have covered her phone because I heard her voice, muffled, and some laughter. She came back on. “Yeah, okay. You wanna do today? I’m working tomorrow and Thursday, and Friday my boyfriend and I are busy.”
    Butterflies. “Sure, Nadina. Today would be great. What time do you get out?”
    “Two forty-five.”
    “Okay, I’ll meet you in front then, by the handicapped ramp.”
    “Okay, bye.” She hung up before I could respond.
    Crap! That was in two hours. Scrambling to my mirror, I made a hasty assessment: hair in a sloppy ponytail, smudges of dust on my face, World Vision t-shirt I’d thrown on for cleaning duty, frayed jeans. One of the