Free Family Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 2) by Debra Trueman Page B

don’t realize what’s relevant.  Earl was turning out to be like that.  If
I didn’t ask it, he didn’t volunteer it, and this became painfully apparent as
our session continued. 
    “You said there are no other black employees working at DIFCO?”
    “Thasright.  ‘Cept Angus.  He done quit three or four months
after I started workin’ there. Couldn’t take it no more.”
    “Couldn’t take what no more – any more?”  His atrocious English
was rubbing off on me.
    “The harassment.  Same thing as this here stuff,” he said,
picking up one of the documents from the box.
    “You’re telling me that another black employee was subjected to
the same treatment?  Earl, you need to tell me shit like that.  Things like
that are important to your case.” I didn’t even try to hide my irritation. “What
else is there that you haven’t told me?”
    “I don’t know?  Ask me sumpthin’ else.”
    I dropped my pen and looked up at the ceiling. I rescheduled my
next meeting, and Earl and I worked together until I was satisfied with our final
product.  We had walked out of the conference room and were headed to the
reception area when Penny came out of her area with pursed lips and a furrowed
brow.  It was apparent that something or someone had ruffled her feathers.
    “Our computer is doing that thing again,” she
announced.
    Penny had never been good with computers, and I wasn’t much
better.  I could do all the basics as far as working with documents or email,
but when it came to problems with software or hardware, I was as clueless as
she was.  She’d had a tech come in twice during the past week, but whatever
glitch it was – that thing – it had not been corrected.
    “Wussa problem, ma’am?” Earl asked.
    Penny couldn’t look over her glasses at him because he was so
tall.  She seemed flustered that Earl had asserted himself into the conversation,
but out of an over-developed sense of politeness, she explained the problem
with the computer.  The next thing I knew, the two had walked off together to
her office.  When they came out 10 minutes later, Penny was beaming.  She liked
to take credit for discovering people’s aptitude at a particular skill, and
apparently she’d found a new prodigy. 
    “I declare!  He fixed it!” she exclaimed.
    “Wudn’t nothin’ big,” Earl said modestly.  “Just had to delete
a file that was messin’ it up.”
    I’m sure that stranger things have happened, but never in a
million years would I have guessed that Earl Jefferson was a computer wiz.

Chapter 8
    The big news in the Park was that we were getting a new
neighbor. The couple next to Mrs. Howard had been transferred out of state, and
the house had sold the day it hit the market to someone who bought it sight unseen. 
An enormous moving van had pulled up early Saturday morning.
    Oliver came running back to the bedroom like Santa Clause had
just pulled up. “Can I go across the street?” he asked, jumping up and down in
his motocross pajamas.
    “No!” I said, more aggressively than I’d intended, and I got
raised eyebrows from Maddie. When I’d moved into the Park, the neighbors had
descended on me like a bunch of vultures.
    “Why not?” Oliver whined.
    Maddie piped in before I could answer. “We’ll go over later
with a big batch of cookies.  How does that sound?”
    “Okay,” Oliver said, sounding like it wasn’t okay at all. The
doorbell rang – Mrs. Howard’s daily bread delivery – and Oliver perked up
again.  “Can I go to Mrs. Howard’s?” The phrase there’s more than one way to
skin a cat popped into my head, and before I could say no, Maddie said yes.
    After both boys had left with Mrs. Howard, Maddie asked,
“What’s your problem with going over to meet the new neighbors?”
    “We’d be encroaching on their privacy,” I asserted, but it
sounded pretty lame when it came out.
    “Encroaching on their privacy?” Maddie repeated, then she
laughed out loud.