Читать книгу Twice Upon a Time - Lois Richer - Страница 10

Two weeks later, Reese could only hope Olivia’s interest in touring Byways was genuine enough that she’d cut him some slack for being late for this meeting.

He’d done everything he could to interest her in the director’s position, from forwarding reams of accolades for past successes to ideas and possibilities that had been tossed around for the future. As chairman of the board of Byways, he wanted the place to live up to its potential of a refuge where kids could learn new things, find someone to talk to and have a safe place to hang out. Byways needed a director who could oversee everything and deal with questions the kids inevitably needed answers to.

Olivia had remained steadfastly noncommittal—until today when she’d finally agreed to tour the facility with him. Reese sincerely hoped she’d be impressed enough to agree to take the job as director, and soon. Lately he spent almost as much time here as at work, and the twins were not happy about his frequent absences.

Only Nelson’s car sat on the lot.

Olivia had given up and gone home and Reese didn’t blame her. He was half an hour late. This would have to be the day the twins’ nanny quit. He’d been stuck interviewing new candidates all afternoon. The last applicant had scared even him.

Good thing Granny Winnie wasn’t above a spot of babysitting when the need arose. If only the twins didn’t—

“You think I should work here, but you’re afraid to get out of your own car? Is that your excuse for being late?”

Reese snapped out of his reverie to see Olivia laughing down at him. She looked different today. Not because she was less elegant in her navy slacks and sleeveless white shirt with a navy jacket slung over one arm. It was her hair that caught his attention. Again.

It was as lovely as he remembered. Loose, flowing to her shoulders in a swath of blended honey and amber, it glistened with a hint of orange—no, cinnamon—enhancing the flawless perfection of her face.

“I like your hair,” he blurted out.

“Oh. Well. Thank you.” Olivia’s smile faltered as she lifted a hand to brush the long spiky bangs off her forehead.

Idiot!

Reese chided himself for embarrassing her as he climbed out of his car. Too bad he hadn’t concentrated on what he intended to say instead of her hair.

“So. Should we risk it and go inside?”

Her lighthearted comment killed his tension.

“Yes.” Reese locked his car then began telling the history of Byways. “An elderly man used to live here, a grouch who put up a big fence around the place to keep the neighborhood kids out. But his yard was the perfect place to play catch and the kids always found a way in. He began sitting at the window, watching them play. The laughter and voices cheered him up and he soon looked forward to their coming.”

“Charming, but is it true?”

“Oh, yes. So Mr. Mung changed from the old grouch he’d been. But suddenly the kids stopped coming. He couldn’t figure out why, but he knew he wanted them to come back. He missed the way they made him feel younger.”

“Why did they stop?” She matched her step to his.

“Some do-gooder built them a softball field.” Reese chuckled at her droll look. “Mung figured that if he took his broken fence down, the kids might come back. He was trying to remove it when one of the kids passed, a punk who had been troubling the neighborhood for years. They argued. Short version is Mung had a heart attack, the kid got him to hospital and while Mung was away, the kid and his punk friends took down the wrecked fence, mowed the yard and started meeting on the front lawn.”

“Nice.”

“They say guilt is a great motivator. Anyway, when he came home, Mung couldn’t keep up the yard without help. The kid noticed, got his friends to pitch in and pretty soon Mung’s place became their drop-in center. The kids began to tell him their stories and Mung showed them a new perspective. When he couldn’t help, he conned his neighbor, a counselor, into stopping by. The word spread.”

Reese paused to catch his breath, but Olivia was way ahead of him.

“So Mung left the kid the house, the kid called it Byways and found funding to keep it running as a youth center.” Olivia slid her fingers over the worn sign that sat at the bottom of the stairs. “That kid was you. I do love a happy ending.”

Reese studied her more intensely.

“You’ve been doing your homework, Miss Hastings.”

“I like to know what I’m getting into, Mr. Woodward.” She tossed him a cheeky grin then skipped up the stairs.

“And?” Reese followed, wondering where this was leading.

“I’ve done some checking. Byways has a great reputation as a safe place where kids can come to have fun, share and, with a little help, figure themselves out. So far I’m quite intrigued by this place.”

“Intrigued is good.” Reese followed her inside, trying to quell his fervent hope that she’d agree to take on the directorship and give him, its chairman, a breather.

A tall, lean man met them in the foyer.

“Olivia Hastings, this is Nelson Kirsch, Emily’s brother. Nelson is our activities director. Nelson, Miss Hastings is considering joining Byways.”

“Joining as what?” Nelson lifted one eyebrow in his inimitably imperious way.

Irritation pricked Reese at Nelson’s snarky tone, though he knew the reason for it. Nelson wanted to be offered the job as director, though he didn’t have the necessary credentials. But before Reese could say anything, Olivia thrust out her hand.

“As whatever I can be to help, Mr. Kirsch.” She waited for him shake. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“That remains to be seen, Miss Hastings.” Nelson shook her hand once, then quickly dropped it. “Excuse me. I’m putting the last few details in place for a day trip.”

“Certainly.” Olivia stepped back to allow him to pass. When he’d disappeared, she glanced at Reese. “The temperature seems to have dropped.”

“That’s just Nelson.”

“You mean he thaws out?”

“Truthfully? Not really. Ah, here’s Emily. Hi, Em.” Reese hugged her thin shoulders and frowned when she immediately tensed, then slipped away. “You okay?”

“Sure. How are the twins? Did Brett get sick from that dunking?”

“His sickness came on after he found out their punishment was to peel potatoes for a week.” Reese winked at Olivia. “Brett isn’t fond of the job and he gets testy when Brady outdoes him with the plastic peelers I bought. Peeling potatoes keeps them busy and gives both of them time to think about the error of their ways.”

“Potatoes.” Olivia chuckled. “That’s creative.”

“Mr. Woodward has lots of ideas.” Emily threw him a cheeky grin. “We mess up his house real bad sometimes when I look after the kids. He usually tricks me into helping clean up. But he never gets mad at me.”

“Do other people get mad at you, Emily?” Olivia asked softly. Something wasn’t quite right with Emily. She could sense it.

“Sometimes.” Emily cast a worried look over one shoulder. “I gotta go. We’re going fishing.”

“Don’t eat the worms if you don’t catch anything.”

“Yuck. That’d be a Brady thing.” She slipped out from under Reese’s hand as he tried to ruffle her hair and raced away, giggling.

“She’s the nicest kid and she’s great with the twins.”

“I can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

“I don’t know how to say it. Lately I sense she’s afraid of me. Maybe it’s because I’m so much bigger than her.” He caught Olivia staring at him. “You’re the child psychologist. What do you think?”

“Maybe you’re right.” Olivia’s noncommittal answer left a lot to be desired. She glanced around. “How often do they go on field trips?”

“Almost every day in the summer. Nelson has a schedule of things for them to do. I’m not sure why they need to go out all the time, but Nelson seems to feel it’s best and the kids do gain exposure to a lot of activities that they’d miss if they stayed here.”

“I hear another ‘but.’”

“It’s a nightmare getting all the permission slips accounted for. But I won’t risk a lawsuit.”

“Very wise. They guarantee no parent can claim ignorance.”

“That’s the plan.” Reese led her through the building.

“Not much actually happens here in the center now, though, does it?” Olivia studied the gym area that had become more of a storage room. “That’s too bad. It looks like your funding is pretty solid. I’ve seen colleges with less equipment than this place.”

“We have corporate support and a couple of bequests we can tap into for repair or to replace, if necessary. Nelson has about six staff.” He looked around, shrugged. “We have at least two on the premises at all times when we’re open.”

“Smart. But what does the staff do? If there are no events held here, I mean.”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but Nelson keeps them busy. We used to have lots of things happening at Byways, but not recently. That’s something I hope a new director might change.”

“Because?”

“As a board, we feel Byways should be the center of activity and not simply a place to catch a bus. Activities are nice, but run properly we could offer more. I feel our staff is under-utilized in the current situation. We have good people who just need some direction and fresh vision.” Reese told himself it was okay to feel a little proud of what he’d helped accomplish. “I think our salaries are pretty competitive, too.”

He explained the range for the managing director’s position.

“Very reasonable, although, for me, the job isn’t about the money.” Olivia inspected the director’s office after he’d unlocked it, glanced at the operating budget. “For me, it’s more about the kids and the things Byways offers to help them.”

“We are happy to hear any and all suggestions.”

The tour over, Reese led her to the kitchen area now used for staff breaks, hoping that light in her eyes had intensified because she was interested.

“Let’s take a break. Coffee?” He poured two cups, held one up.

“Black, please.”

He indicated she should sit in one of the easy chairs before he handed the cup to her.

“Thanks.” Olivia sipped her coffee. Silence stretched between them before she spoke again. “If my opinion counts, I’d say Byways has a very effective board. Everything looks well maintained. I don’t understand why this job is still open.”

“Frankly, neither do we.” Reese hated this part, but he had to be honest. “We’ve had several applicants accept our offer in the past two years. They each came in, worked for six to nine months and then gave their notice.”

“Because?”

He flopped down in the chair across from her, rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension in his neck. “The work isn’t what they expected. The job isn’t what they want. Like that.”

“How many candidates have come and gone?”

“Three, so far.”

“None of them stayed even a year?” Olivia blinked, hazel eyes darkening as the gold flecks melted. When he shook his head, her irises dimmed to the shade of forest shadows in the mountains outside Denver. She sipped her coffee, but kept her gaze on him. “Oh.”

“Exactly.” Reese nodded.

“What happened to your last director?”

“He quit six months ago. Said he wanted a different line of work. There was some, uh, tension in the office. We’ve had a complete turnover of other staff since then. Except for Nelson, of course. He’s been here forever.”

“And he applied for the director’s job.” Olivia rubbed the bridge of her nose with one knuckle.

“You knew?”

“The attitude gives it away.”

“I suppose.” Why did he always feel he had to apologize for Nelson? “After the last one quit I think Nelson was so sick of the constant changeovers he decided he could do the job himself. But he can’t.” Reese wanted to make it clear Nelson was not her competition.

“Because?”

“We have to comply with state and city regulations by having a qualified counselor who approves our programs—and Nelson isn’t, he simply doesn’t have the training to talk someone down, counsel them about the future or offer advice for problems. He’s not interested in going back to school, either. So the day trips continue.”

Reese thought he could watch her hair forever. The unusual shades seemed to change every time Olivia moved her head. She wasn’t the least bit plain or retiring, but she had a way of seeming to melt into the background that encouraged him to lose whatever reticence he might have. Reese wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“What do you do now?”

“A local psychologist comes in two days a week. She’s made it clear it’s only temporary and that she’d like to go back to her private practice—yesterday. Kids are not her forte so perhaps it’s as well she isn’t staying.”

Olivia didn’t ask any more. She finished her coffee, rose and walked over to read the notices on the bulletin board. She flipped through the canvases Byways’s art students had created last winter and checked out the marionettes swaying from the ceiling.

Reese held his tongue, willing to give her all the time she needed to decide. He hoped she’d agree to take the job quickly because he needed to get on the phone and find a new nanny fast.

After many moments had passed, Olivia turned to face him.

“I am a board-certified child psychologist, licensed to practice in Colorado.” Olivia listed her degrees and the colleges where she’d attained them, her voice neither boastful nor deferring. She was simply stating her qualifications. “I have not been employed for several years, however, so I don’t have any current references.”

“Were you ill?” Reese didn’t think she looked unhealthy.

“No. Family problems. I am single, I have no dependents. I, er, moved from the East to start again.” And she didn’t want to talk about it. That much was crystal clear from the solid jut of her chin as she stared at him.

Reese didn’t hold it against her. He didn’t like to talk about his past, either.

“But you do have experience? References from your past employment?”

“I had my own practice, which is now defunct, but yes, there are people who will vouch for me. Professional and otherwise.”

He studied her, confused by the eagerness he’d glimpsed in her eyes and the stiff, unyielding way she held herself, as if she wasn’t quite ready to commit.

“Are you applying for the job, Olivia?” he asked quietly when time had elapsed and she hadn’t spoken or looked at him again.

She lifted her head, met his stare.

“I’m definitely interested.” Her back straightened. “But I do need to pray about it and learn God’s will on the matter before I make a final decision.”

“Okay.” Reese rose, gathered their cups and placed them in the sink.

“But.”

“But?” He whirled around unable to keep hope from sneaking into his voice. “What does ‘but’ mean?”

“I would like to learn more about Byways, about what’s worked in the past and what has failed. I want to get the feel of the operation and hear a little more about the board’s expectations.” Her voice dropped, but her hazel eyes did not avoid his scrutiny. “Mostly I want time to pray about it, make sure Byways is where God wants me to be.”

“And then?” he prodded.

“As soon as I’m certain, I’ll give you my decision.” Her shoulders lifted, her spine straightened. “I don’t know why your other applicants quit, Reese, but if I don’t take this job, my reason will be because I do not feel this is where God wants me.”

“You’re a person of strong faith, aren’t you?” He didn’t need to ask, but Reese did anyway because he wanted Olivia Hastings to talk and he wanted to listen to the smooth soft lilt of her voice. He wanted to see her eyes flash from green to gold again, as they did every time she spoke of God.

Most of all, he wanted to know what situation had brought her to Denver and how God had helped her. Maybe then he’d understand why God never seemed to be there for him or his boys, though the family would be shocked to hear him say that.

“Strong faith?” Olivia raised her eyebrows as she considered the term, then nodded. “Yes, I guess you could say that. I believe in God. I believe I am His child and that He will show me the way I should go, if I pay attention and wait for His leading.”

“And do you always do that—wait?”

“Always,” she said with a smile. “I’ve learned it works better that way.”

Was that his problem? Reese wondered. Did he not wait long enough for God to show him which way to go? But it had been almost three years since Taylor had been hit by a drunk driver on her way home with a quart of milk.

Couldn’t God have gotten in touch once in three years?

Anger bubbled to the surface, but Reese was sick of being angry. It never did any good. He pushed it away, wishing he had the same solid confidence in God as Olivia.

“How long do you need?”

“I’m sorry, but you see that’s where the waiting part comes in. I don’t know how long it will take.” She smiled. “If someone else comes along in the meantime, I’ll gladly step out of the way. But I have to be sure.”

“You do realize we’ll need to do a background check in either case? It’s policy,” he added when she seemed to freeze for a second.

“Yes, of course. The safety of the children is always paramount.” Olivia recovered quickly and led the way out of the room. She walked beside him out of the building. “I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll fax you my information if you’ll give me your number.”

Reese pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“That’s my e-mail address and fax at Weddings by Woodwards,” he explained. “I’m not usually at Byways every day.”

“I’ll send you my information soon. I’m sure you’re anxious to get home to the twins.” She tucked the card into her pocket and asked, “How are they?”

“Busy.” Reese sighed. “Their nanny quit today. Brett ‘colored’ her sandals.”

Olivia held her hands up as if to hold him back. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“Thank you for that.” He unlocked his car. “You’re parked nearby?”

“My car recently retired. I’m looking into a new one. I took a cab here.”

“You need a ride then.” He moved to open the passenger door, but she stopped him.

“No. I told the driver to come back in—here he is,” she said as a taxi rolled up beside them. “Thanks for meeting me, Reese. I’m glad I came.”

“Great. Thanks a lot, Olivia.”

“Thank you. This might be just what I need.” With a funny little smile that roused his curiosity, Olivia waggled her fingers then left.

Reese drove toward Weddings by Woodwards and the briefcase of work that needed to be finished before his meeting tomorrow morning. He had yet to hire a nanny. Day care and preschool couldn’t begin to cover the hours he worked or the emergencies that sometimes came up.

The parking lot at Weddings by Woodwards lay empty when he pulled into his spot. He’d barely opened the back door when someone called his name. His guard went up automatically. The parking lot was out of the way. No clients came back here.

Frowning, he waited as a young woman he didn’t recognize walked toward him.

“Were you calling me?”

“Reese Woodward?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She drew an envelope out of her jacket and held it out.

“I was asked to see that you got this personally, ASAP.”

He glanced from the paper to her disappearing figure, surprised.

Using his finger, he slit open the letter and drew out the papers inside. He caught his breath.

Weddings by Woodwards had plans to open a new store in Chicago. Reese had scouted the location, chosen the perfect site on Chicago’s famous Magnificent Mile. He’d lobbied the owners for a long-term lease and revised his terms several times. In fact, just yesterday he’d requested more changes to ensure his grandmother’s requests for the new store were met on every level.

Apparently he’d hesitated too long.

Dear Mr. Woodward:

I apologize for taking this extreme measure to contact you, but I felt you should know immediately of Mr. Garver’s untimely passing this morning. You will understand that the family is extremely emotional at this time, but Mrs. Garver is most insistent that I notify you at the earliest possible date of her intentions. Those intentions include liquidating all her real estate assets, meaning she will put the Chicago property up for sale. Because of the amount of time you and her husband spent discussing a possible lease, and because Mr. Garver thought very highly of you, Mrs. Garver is granting you first offer of sale. I have enclosed the amount and terms she’s requesting. You should know that she intends to move to be nearer her daughter in France as soon as can be arranged, and thus wishes to close the sale on the property this month. I would be most appreciative if you could let me know your decision as soon as possible…

Reese’s breath whooshed out of him as if someone had plunged a fist into his solar plexus.

His family was counting on a smooth transition. He’d reassured his grandmother only this morning that he would get everything she’d requested, that there would be no problems with this property, that he’d chosen the best possible building. Because of him, they hadn’t even looked at other possibilities, content to let him nitpick over every detail because they trusted him.

If only he’d stopped haggling and agreed to sign the lease sooner!

There was no way they could buy the property. Renovations on the Denver store had exceeded their budget. A tripling in costs of organza and silk had affected Winifred’s latest collection and their bottom line because the pricing had been preset for the catalogues. If that weren’t enough, a fire in the sewing factory two months ago had taken its toll on Weddings by Woodwards’ bank account.

Yet time after time Reese had reassured each family member that he had everything in Chicago well in hand. How stupid they’d been to trust him.

His grandmother’s favorite phrase echoed in his head.

God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world.

Well, where was God now?