Free Nothing But Trouble by Bettye Griffin

tomorrow.”
    â€œSpeaking of which,” Norell said, “since we’ve been having our staff meetings at Dana’s, and since that’s where we’ll meet with new hires for orientation, how do you feel about compensating her a little extra for providing CDN’s headquarters? We both know she can use all the help she can get.”
    â€œI think that’s a great idea, Norell. We can refer to it as rent, so she won’t feel like we’re treating her like a charity case. She’s very proud, you know.”
    â€œI know.”
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    Cécile had rejected yet another applicant when she heard shouting from the girls’ room. Wearily she pushed back from her desk. Michael and the boys had gone to the Y to play basketball. Until now she’d managed to get a reasonable amount of work done.
    She rapped on the open door of the small, crowded bedroom. “All right, what’s the problem?”
    â€œMama, Monet won’t move her clothes out of my drawer,” Gaby said. Seven years old and the middle of Cécile’s three girls, she would never get lost in a shuffle. From the time she formed her first words, Gaby had always spoken out.
    â€œThat’s right, Mama,” Josie, the oldest at ten, quickly added.
    â€œBut it’s not fair. I need more drawer space. Their stuff is taking up the whole closet,” Monet said in a pleading voice.
    Cécile quickly sensed a potential blowup. Monet’s cross-armed stance suggested she wouldn’t be backing down. Cécile guessed she was maybe two remarks away from reminding the others that this had been her room before they all moved in with her. She had to prevent that from happening and forming a rift that would take months to heal.
    â€œListen to me, girls,” she said. “I know you guys are squeezed in like ten pounds of baloney in a nine-pound bag, but until we can do something about it, you do have to share this room.”
    â€œWhen are you and Michael going to get us a bigger house?” Josie asked.
    â€œWhen the time is right,” Cécile said in a firm tone that cautioned against further questioning. “Now, this is what I want you to do.” She did a quick inspection of each drawer of the lone double dresser. “There’s a lot of junk in here. Tomorrow I’ll get each one of you a big plastic drawer. You can each have one to put all this stuff in. That’ll free up a lot of room.” She turned at the flash of headlights through the partially open blinds. A red VW bug pulled up along the curb.
    â€œMama, it’s Auntie Michie,” Gaby said excitedly.
    â€œWait a second.” But all four girls had already taken off for the front door. She called after them sternly. “Josette Belarge, don’t you dare open that door until I get there!” In a series of smooth movements, Cécile turned the hanging bar to close the blinds, then pulled the lined curtains together so that the strong Florida morning sunlight wouldn’t wake the children prematurely.
    They all stood waiting for her when she stepped into the living room.
    â€œMama, can we open the door now?” Gaby asked.
    â€œWe can see it’s Auntie Michie through the window,” Josie added.
    â€œAll right, go ahead.” Cécile stood back while Micheline greeted all four girls with hugs and lifted the youngest, Eleith. Cécile was glad she didn’t leave Monet out. Her stepdaughter’s round face beamed as her new auntie pinched her cheek and told her how pretty she was. But then again, if there was one thing Micheline knew how to do, it was to be charming.
    Micheline walked over to Cécile, still carrying four-year-old Eleith, who gazed at her aunt with awe. “Hi, Sis!” she said, pressing her cheek against Cécile’s and kissing the air.
    â€œHey. What brings you over this way?”
    â€œI had dinner with some people at that Cuban restaurant near