Joy in the Journey

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  "You are amazing," Polly said. "Will you be okay with Cassidy for a while?"

  "Sure. She's easy. Hayden does most of the work with the boys. He's got a bunch of relays ready for them to play."

  "It's like camp around here," Polly said. "Thank you." She gave Cat a quick hug and headed back into the kitchen, just as the dogs raced past her for the back door. "Well," she said. "Another one arrives."

  Rebecca walked in, her head buried in her phone. She looked up and said, "Hey there," then looked back at her phone.

  Polly blinked. "Hi. What's up?"

  "Andrew just texted me that …" Rebecca looked up again. "Your hair! What did you do? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Do you hate it?"

  "I love it." She put her hands on Polly's shoulders and turned her. "You colored it. That's so awesome. You're like a cool mom, not boring."

  "Huh," Polly said. "That's what Elijah told me, too. Thank you."

  "You and Henry should totally go out tonight. Don't let this go to waste."

  "It's not going anywhere. He won't get home until late."

  "That stinks. Maybe you shouldn't eat until he gets home. The Alehouse will be open late. Make him take you."

  "We're really not that interested in going out just to go out," Polly said. "It will be fine."

  "It's not fine. He's working too hard." Then her eyes lit up. "Oh, that's what Andrew texted me about. He says that Reuben Green is looking for part time help at the art studio. Can I run up there and talk to him?"

  Polly stepped back. She knew this was coming, but suddenly it felt too soon. She tried to cover. "Okay. Do you want a ride?"

  "Would you go in with me? Mr. Greene knows you. You'd tell him good things, wouldn't you?"

  The last thing she wanted was for Reuben to hire Rebecca because of his relationship with Polly. "Why isn't Andrew applying for the job?"

  Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know. He just told me about it. He's working in the bakery this week, helping his mom. The sign just went up. Can we go now before someone else sees it?"

  "A couple of things before you get all crazy," Polly said. "First, you need to change into something more professional than those jeans and that sweatshirt. Take a few minutes to look nice. A skirt for sure. Secondly, you need to consider how many hours you can work for Reuben. You're busy at school."

  "I don't have to be. I just like to be," Rebecca protested. "There will be that week before the musical, but otherwise I could be home more often. If I talk to Beryl about changing our time, I could work all day on Saturdays. On Thursdays, I could work until choir practice. The stores close by then, anyway."

  "What if he's looking for someone to work during the school days?"

  Rebecca slumped. "You're right. It's probably not for me. Forget I brought it up."

  Polly took her arm. "Oh no you don't. Don't give up. You need to come up with answers. You need to think through things before you walk in because I don't want you to be thrown by these questions in public."

  "You'd let me work there?"

  "It would be a great place for you to work, but there are responsibilities that come with working for someone else. You can't sleep late on Saturdays."

  Rebecca groaned.

  "And you won't be able to just flit off with your friends on a moment's notice. You'll have to plan ahead for trips you take with Beryl to make sure that Reuben is okay with you being gone. The life of a working girl isn't a picnic. I'm ready for you to take on this responsibility, but you need to be aware of the pitfalls."

  "So, what you're telling me is that growing up stinks."

  Polly laughed. "Sometimes it does. Run upstairs and change your clothes. I'll tell Cat that we're going to be gone for a while. Maybe we'll get lunch while we're out."

  "You're the best, coolest mom ever," Rebecca said, throwing her arms around Polly. "I need to tell Cilla. We talked about wandering around town to see what kind of jobs would be available this summer. Oh, and I need to call Kayla. She was going to come over."

  "We can pick them up after you speak with Reuben. He might not be ready to interview you today. This just might be a chance for you to fill out an application."

  Rebecca nodded. "I'll be right back."

  ~~~

  Polly pulled up in front of Green Space. While the inside of the space was rustic, with hard wood floors, rough brick walls, and dropped lighting, he'd also wired in additional lights along the walls where several of Beryl Watson's prints had been hung. They'd made contact with a local potter and two fiber artists, one who wove beautiful tapestries and another whose string art seemed to float in mid-air. Several of Reuben’s smaller pieces were on display, but there was room for a great deal more. Now it was just a matter of finding the artists. He knew that once his studio was open full-time, the art would come.

  Rebecca took a deep breath. "I've never done anything like this before."

  "You look fantastic," Polly said. "Very professional. Be honest about the hours you’re available. Don't try to make him happy by exaggerating things. You don't want to disappoint him. Don’t undersell yourself either. Be realistic; be honest."

  "He's not going to ask me for a resume, is he?"

  "I don't know," Polly said with a slight shrug. "If he does, tell him that we will pull one together and send it via email by tomorrow afternoon. How does that sound?"

  Rebecca nodded. "Are you coming in with me?"

  Polly smiled and put her hand on the girl's knee. "You don't really want me to, do you?"

  "Yes? No?" Rebecca laughed uncomfortably. "No. I get it. I have to do this by myself. Maybe I don't want a job."

  "Maybe this will be the easiest job application you're ever going to do," Polly said. "Go on in. I'll be at the coffee shop waiting for you. If it's good news, we'll celebrate with something fun. If it's no news, we'll commiserate with something fun. If it's bad news, I'll get you drunk."

  Rebecca looked at her in shock.

  "There. That got your mind off your fear. Go on," Polly said. "You'll be great." She watched her daughter get out of the car and gather herself together before striding up to the front door, her head held high. Polly let out a huge sigh. This was only the beginning and she wasn't ready. As she watched, Reuben came up to Rebecca. He looked out at Polly when Rebecca extended her hand, then gave a quick nod and smiled, drawing Rebecca further into the shop. Whatever happened, he'd be the best first interview Rebecca could possibly have.

  She blinked back a few tears, got out of her car, hesitated in front of the shop, then walked down the sidewalk toward Sweet Beans. Before she got there, she cut into the quilt shop. She was too nervous to sit still. Pacing through bolts of fabric and wonderful creative ideas would calm her nerves.

  "Polly," Jen Dykstra said. "How are you this morning?"

  "I'm good. I just need a distraction."

  "Is something wrong?"

  Polly chuckled. "Rebecca is applying for a job at Reuben Greene’s gallery. It's her first time and I want it to go well."

  "Those kids are looking for jobs now?" Jen asked. "How did they get to be that age? If you know any that want a job this summer, I'll be hiring. I'd love to get one or two kids on the payroll who could put in some part time throughout the school year. There is always something to do and I need more help. I'm not ready to bring on full-time employees, but wouldn't it be wonderful to teach more kids to love sewing?"

  "That fabric addiction is a killer, though," Polly said. "I haven't had much time to get back to sewing, but I'm feeling it in my bones. You did a bad, bad thing to me."

  "We're proud of ourselves for promoting fabric addictions," Jen said. "Is there something that you'd like to work on? What about some soft books for that little girl of yours?"

  Polly shook her head. "She has a few, but she’s into real books now. Do you think I could make her a doll?"

  "Like a rag doll?"

  "Yeah. She loves her baby doll, but I think she'd love something that I made."

  "We ha
ve some wonderful patterns over here." Jen beckoned Polly across the room.

  Polly idly flipped through the patterns and landed on a book that had several different rag doll patterns. She kept looking up and out the window, hoping she wouldn't miss Rebecca walking past.

  A bolt of soft, cuddly fabric in light pink caught her eye and she fondled it before catching herself. "I'm sorry. I'm not paying attention."

  "It's cute," Jen said. "And by the way, so is that hair. When did you do that?"

  "Just this morning." Polly moved her head back and forth. "I'm still trying to get used to it. Do you remember the first time you ever put lipstick on?"

  Jen laughed out loud. "I don't wear it often enough that even now when I do, I talk funny because it feels like my lips are sticking way out."

  "That's how I feel about my head today," Polly said with a laugh. "I'm holding myself at odd angles because my hair isn't lying where it usually sits on my shoulders. And it's all light and fluffy. I'm sure that after a couple of days, I'll be back to normal, but this is weird."

  "Did you go to that new salon?"

  "Mina's. Yes. She's wonderful."

  "They're moving out to Alden's Corner, right? Isn't that where you found that poor man’s body last week?"

  Polly nodded. "The investigation has slowed things down for her, but they'll get there."

  "Do the police know anything yet? I heard some of the ladies talking about that man. Keenan Baxter, right? Anyway, they said that they heard it was a husband of one of his girlfriends."

  "Really," Polly said. "I hadn't heard that one."

  Jen grinned. "I do hear a lot of gossip. Evidently, that man had many, many girlfriends. I can only imagine what would have happened to Bellingwood if he'd started through the single women up here."

  "Henry really liked him," Polly said. "That morning we were meeting the man for lunch so I could meet him before Henry offered him a job."

  "That's the thing," Jen said. "The gossip is that he was really friendly with men, too. Had a lot of good buddies. Nobody hated the guy, well, except for the husbands. But if their wives were out messing around, it's not like that was this Baxter guy's fault. He was just living his life, right?"

  "I guess."

  "Oh, listen to me. I'm as bad as my gossiping customers. I apologize. Did you want to buy that book? I can put it at the counter while you look around."

  "What is this stuff?" Polly asked, fondling the pink plush fabric.

  "It's called minky. It makes wonderful blankets for little girls."

  "Could I sew it?"

  "Of course. I'd put something complementary on the back and then you'll have a warm blanket that will last a long time."

  "Maybe I should wait."

  Jen stood still, waiting for Polly to decide.

  "You aren't going to push me?"

  "I don’t need to," Jen said with a laugh. "You’re doing all the work for me. You can’t walk away from it. Your hands haven't quit fondling the fabric since you saw it."

  "You are so mean to me."

  "It's my best thing."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Once she finished spending more than she’d expected in the quilt shop, Polly walked next door to Sweet Beans. She hoped the conversation with Reuben Greene was a good one. There was every probability that he might not be able to use Rebecca, especially since her available hours were limited until after school was out.

  She waved at Camille and headed for the front counter.

  "Hey, Polly. I heard you were in here already this morning. And look at your hair. It’s beautiful."

  Polly put her hand on her head. "Thank you. Yeah, I stopped in for something fun to take to the salon with me. Met your new barista, Josie? Is that right?"

  Camille nodded. "She works from open until ten thirty. Her husband is picking up temporary work these days, so she needs to get home and take care of their children."

  Polly stepped back in surprise. "Children? Plural? She looks like she’s in high school. How does she even have one child?"

  "She's in her late twenties," Camille replied. "They have two little cuties. A four-year-old boy and a little girl who just turned two. I hope her husband can find a job. Those two have had a rough run of it with this move to Bellingwood."

  "I heard about that. She mentioned something earlier."

  Camille frowned. "She what?"

  "No, it wasn't like she was sharing too much. I don't even remember how it came up, but I was the one asking questions." Polly grinned. "Who can resist my interrogating ways? But look at you, hiring an experienced barista."

  "You have no idea how nice it was to bring her on board. She understands the equipment, already knows how to connect with people, has experience with food service, and she isn't afraid of staying busy with cleaning and re-stocking if there are no customers. I want to hire her full-time, but until they get their world figured out, I'll take what I can get."

  "If he gets a full-time job will that mess with her working here?"

  "I don't know. She said that they used daycare when they were in Iowa City. At least a couple of days a week so she could keep working. We'll see. What are you doing in here again today?"

  "Waiting for Rebecca. She applied for a job with Reuben Greene."

  "At the studio? I heard Andrew mention that Mr. Greene posted a ‘Help Wanted’ sign. If she doesn't get a job with him, she could work here this summer. Several of our college students will leave and we'll be looking for help."

  "I'll tell her. She has plenty of friends who are going to want jobs so they can drive their cars."

  "They’re sixteen," Camille said with a knowing smile. "That's what's going on. It all makes sense now. I wondered why Andrew was so keen to help his mother this week. And speaking of, there's Rebecca now."

  Polly turned to see her daughter come in, the bell on the door jangling as she pushed it open. She looked closely to see what the mood might be, but Rebecca was giving nothing away. She solemnly walked toward them and stopped beside Polly. "Are we eating lunch here?"

  "Is that what you'd like?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  That wasn't helpful at all. Polly had no idea where to go with the conversation. So, she just pushed ahead. "How was your conversation with Mr. Greene?"

  "It was very nice," Rebecca said, looking up at the menu while avoiding Polly's eyes.

  "Did you talk about the cost of sending cows to the moon?"

  Rebecca nodded. "It came up. We decided it wasn't worth it quite yet. The technology isn't available."

  "And what did he think about your hot pink and green teeth?"

  "He thought it might just be a fad. Probably not something that will last long into the future."

  Camille cackled. "You two. Stop it. You're killing me. Rebecca, did you get a job?"

  Rebecca shrugged and turned to look at Polly. "I don't know. Did I?"

  "Since you're being such a brat, I'm going to conclude that yes, in fact, you did get a job."

  "I did," Rebecca said, grabbing Polly into a hug. "I was so nervous. And I told him that he shouldn't feel like he needed to hire me because I was your daughter. Was that okay?"

  "Of course it was."

  "We talked about art and the different ways that people perceive it when they want to purchase things. He spoke to me like I was an adult. We had the best conversation. I want to work there every day."

  "But you won't," Polly said. "Because you have to go to school and finish your high school education."

  "What a drag. I feel so energized and excited. Kind of like I used to when I first started with Beryl. Everything is so interesting."

  "I wouldn't tell her that."

  Rebecca gave her head a quick shake. "She's still interesting and we have the best conversations, but we do it like friends. Mr. Greene treated me more like a colleague today. I don't know how to explain it. I was afraid that he was going to ask me deep questions about art and expect me to have answers. That's why I wanted to ge
t it over with right away. If I had time to think about it, I was going to panic. But he didn't try to trip me up with off-the-wall questions; he talked to me. He just talked to me."

  "That means a celebratory lunch. Do you want to eat here or go somewhere else?"

  "Is Andrew in the back?" Rebecca asked Camille.

  She nodded.

  "Would you mind if I went back to tell him that I got the job?"

  Camille pointed and Rebecca ran around the counter to the back room.

  "They really aren't dating," Polly said in exasperation. "At least she swears they aren't. But I don't know if those two will ever be able to live without each other."

  "Best friends have a tendency to count on the other one whether it's good news or bad news."

  "They have been that for a very long time," Polly said. "I’m glad they’re finally moving past some of the ugliness from the breakup. It will never be easy, but this is easier to live with. I'm getting hungry. Wonder how long this will take." She smiled. "I'll be back."

  Camille was chuckling as Polly walked around the counter to the bakery.

  "Hello?" she called out.

  Shelly Nelson came out into the hallway at Polly's voice. She looked so much better than the day they'd picked her up off the street in Boone. Was that really a year ago? It had been so cold that day. Now, she was healthy and happy, much less fearful and finding her own way in the world.

  "Hey, Polly."

  "Shelly, how are you?"

  The girl smiled. "Doing okay. I have a favor to ask."

  "What can I do?"

  "I will be done with my high school equivalency in July."

  "Oh, Shelly, I'm so proud of you. That's wonderful."

  "Thank you. It's been a long year. Marta has been amazing. She won't let me quit. But anyway, I was wondering if …" Shelly let out a resigned breath. "I don't know how to ask this. Daddy said we could go to a restaurant in Boone, but …"

  "Do you want to have a graduation party?" Polly asked. She knew exactly how hard it was to ask someone for things, hoping they would understand.