Hope for Tomorrow

by Patti Berg

  “You’re afraid if you take over as scoutmaster and something goes wrong—maybe you mess up when teaching the boys how to tie knots, or your archery skills aren’t up to snuff or you run at the first sight of a bear—that Nelson will be upset. That he’ll lose faith in you. That he’ll never want you to do anything with him ever again.”

  James flipped one of the dinette chairs around and straddled it. “And where did this analysis come from? Are you studying psychology now, in addition to all your other projects?”

  “Just a stab in the air, but I’ve been listening to a lot of people lately, everyone talking about family and friendship dynamics, and it just makes sense.”

  “Well, try this on for size.” James pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his green scrubs. “Nelson told me he’d put together his own pros and cons list if I thought it would help me make a decision. Not that I haven’t done that myself, but I said, ‘Go for it,’ and this is what I found on the car seat when I came in this morning.”

  James took his merry sweet time unfolding the note. He looked up at Candace and Elena. Cleared his throat.

  I love you, Dad. I know you’ll make the right decision.

  You always do.

  Nelson

  James cleared his throat again. “So…” James pulled another folded-up piece of paper out of his scrubs, this one a colored brochure. He tossed it on the table. “How do you think I’ll look in khaki Boy Scout shorts and hiking boots?”

  “I’m not sure.” Elena sat up on the couch, leaned forward, and, laughing, stared at James’s legs tucked under the table. “Let’s see how knobby your knees are.”

  “Have all the fun you want now, Nurse Rodriguez,” James said, wadding up the brochure and tossing it at her, “’cause I’m going to be borrowing that husband of yours to help me out in the beginning.”

  “Have you told Nelson yet?” Candace asked, taking her plate to the sink.

  “Not yet. I’ve got until the end of the day Thursday to see if someone else steps forward.”

  “Ah, James, that’s the chicken’s way out. You should—”

  The lounge door burst open and Anabelle practically flew in, waving a piece of paper in front of them. “Have you seen this?”

  James frowned. “What is it?”

  “A press release,” Anabelle said, her glasses firmly on the bridge of her nose, her jaw looking like it might crack from the pressure. “It isn’t a notice to staff, because what could possibly make administration think we should have the details before the press?”

  Anabelle wasn’t facetious all that often. Whatever the press release said, it had certainly gotten under her skin.

  “Does that have anything to do with Albert Varner?” Elena asked, sitting up straighter, hoping this would answer all their questions.

  “It’s about Varner all right. Here, let me read it to you.”

  Anabelle adjusted her glasses, held the piece of paper in front of her and read. “‘The board of directors of Hope Haven Hospital in Deerford, Illinois, fired Chief Executive Officer Albert Varner in a unanimous vote. Board member Reverend Lark Jasperson resigned and left the meeting prior to the vote. The board voted to dismiss Mr. Varner on the grounds that he did not have enough support from the board to be “successful at the helm.” Zane McGarry, Hope Haven Hospital’s chief financial officer, will serve as interim CEO. Albert Varner could not be reached for comment.’”

  “What on earth do they mean that he wasn’t ‘successful at the helm’?” The fiery temper Elena kept well hidden flared. “Albert Varner’s the best CEO we’ve had. If it weren’t for him, we might have closed several months ago.”

  “This isn’t going to do anything to dispel rumors.” Anabelle continued to shake the paper, before crumpling it and tossing it in the trash. “I hate all the stories that have been circulating about a man I’ve always respected. And this press release is so wishy-washy that the rumors are going to get worse.”

  “I have well over a hundred signatures on the petition asking the board to reinstate Mr. Varner,” Elena said, pushing up off the couch and tossing the remains of her sandwich in the trash. “And tomorrow morning I plan to confront Albert Varner. We’ve been loyal to him, now it’s his turn to return the favor. If he’s happy about being fired, that’s one thing. I’ll accept it. If he’s not, he needs to put up a fight.”

  And Elena was ready to lead the battle.

  “Have you heard from Ginger?” Quintessa asked, when Elena stopped by her office at the end of her shift. She wanted to ask her to sign the petition to reinstate Mr. Varner, but discussing Ginger was a welcome diversion from something that could get her reprimanded…or worse.

  “Just this morning.” Elena sat in the chair next to Quintessa’s desk and dropped her tote bag on the floor beside her. “She’s doing great, although staying in bed is driving her crazy and she’s disappointed that she can’t do more for the Harvest Festival.”

  “Ainslee has everything under control, thank goodness.” Quintessa laughed. “I keep telling myself I never again want to get involved in a project like this, but why stop after this year, especially if it’s a huge success.”

  “Think we can get everything finished in less than two weeks?”

  Quintessa frowned. “It’s not like you to be anything but optimistic. Everything okay?”

  “Too many things on my mind.” Refusing to mention that she was exhausted, something she rarely suffered from, or the fact that she dreaded asking Quintessa to sign the petition, Elena reached into her bag and pulled out the paper that bore the signatures of 132 members of the Hope Haven staff, all of whom wanted Albert Varner reinstated to his position as CEO.

  “I hear you’re stirring up trouble,” Quintessa said, her gaze darting to the paper in Elena’s hands. She obviously knew that Elena had been circulating a petition. “Are you sure what you’re doing is wise?”

  Elena shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’ve never caved in to popular opinion. I prefer doing what I think is right, and I believe Albert Varner is the right CEO for this hospital.”

  Quintessa stood up, walked to one of the walls in her office, pressed a button, and a wall panel slid open, revealing a kitchenette and closet.

  Elena frowned. “I didn’t know that was hidden back there.”

  “It’s one of the hospital’s little secrets.” Quintessa grinned. “Zane keeps a few extra suits and a tux in here, just in case a dinner engagement or an important meeting comes up and he doesn’t have time to go home and change.”

  Quintessa lifted a pot full of coffee that smelled freshly brewed. “You look like you could use a cup.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Two sugars and a dash of cream, right?”

  “Usually, but I’ll have three and two right now. It’s been a long day.”

  When the panel was completely closed, and the secret door looked like a wall again, Quintessa handed the coffee to Elena. “Are you going to ask me to sign your petition?”

  “That’s my plan, although I suppose I’d understand if you said no.”

  Quintessa reached across the desk and took the page from Elena. She printed and signed her name, included her title, and dated the petition. “Mind if I hold on to this? Zane has someone in his office, but—”

  “Why would he want to sign it? He’s interim CEO. Maybe he wants the job permanently.”

  “Don’t worry, Elena.” Quintessa pulled a gray legal folder out of her desk and tucked the petition inside. “We—Zane and I—weren’t sure you’d bring the petition in for me to sign, let alone Zane, but I already know he supports the staff’s position. Penny Risser plans to sign it too.”

  “You could have told me this before now,” Elena teased, “instead of making me sweat, wondering what would happen if I was caught circulating a petition. I was sure I’d be reprimanded.”

  “There’s enough craziness going on around here without—”

  The door to Zane McGarry’s office opened. Fre
derick Innisk came out, his eyebrow raising when he saw Elena sitting there, looking like he wanted to chastise her for being somewhere she didn’t belong.

  Another man followed, someone Elena had never seen before. He was tall, distinguished, wore a suit that looked like it had cost a zillion dollars and spit-polished-and-shined black wingtips. His hair was charcoal gray except for the silver at his temples. He was rather good-looking, but his smile screamed Don’t mess with me, or you’ll be in trouble.

  The men all shook hands. “See you next Monday, Keith,” Mr. McGarry said, holding the stranger’s hand as if they were long-lost friends. “I’ll have the contract ready to sign when you get here.”

  Elena might as well have been invisible when Mr. Innisk and the new guy said good-bye to Quintessa, but that was perfectly fine with her. She and Scrooge already had their problems; and she didn’t want to be a blip on this new guy’s radar. Because something uncomfortable rumbling around in her stomach told her that he was destined to be the next CEO.

  Once Upon A Time was Elena’s last stop of the day. The crystal chimes hanging above the door tinkled like delicate glass bells when she walked inside, staying focused, looking for Ainslee rather than looking at all the wonderful things she’d love to buy.

  “Hi there.” Anabelle’s beautiful daughter peeked around a mannequin she was dressing in a pair of well-tailored men’s trousers and an olive drab Eisenhower jacket, complete with a collection of gold military insignia. “Have you come to buy, or talk about the festival or the quilt?”

  “Actually, none of those things, but you can fill me in on the quilt, if you want.”

  Stepping out from behind the World War II mannequin, Ainslee couldn’t have looked prettier, her mahogany hair waving over her shoulders in a similar style to the Veronica Lake look-alike who’d been in the store a couple of weeks ago. Her chocolate eyes were as big and bright as her mom’s. She wore black-and-white vertical-striped pants, black-and-white espadrilles, a black peplum jacket that wouldn’t fit much longer and a fat red silk chrysanthemum over her left breast pocket. The lucky lady was also wearing to-die-for chunky red Bakelite bracelets and earrings.

  If she didn’t love her job so much, Elena thought, she just might quit and ask for a job working with Ainslee. She would absolutely love to wear all the wonderfully retro clothes and accessories.

  “I’m sure Mother’s filled you in on almost everything about the quilt, which is gorgeous. Just wait until you see it.”

  “Another few days, right?”

  “We’re meeting at Dr. Hamilton’s tomorrow to finish it up, and a photographer from the Dispatch is coming over to take photos.” Ainslee walked across the shop, stopping behind the counter. “The photos and article about the auction and the festival should definitely be in Saturday’s paper.”

  “The press release looked great,” Elena said, unable to resist a kitschy yellow and white polka dot bracelet on the counter. She slid it on her left wrist and held it up to the light to see if it sparkled, then took it off when she realized it was really much too far-out for her taste.

  “Everything else is under control for the Harvest Festival,” Elena said, “and you do have the meeting for next Tuesday—a week from tomorrow—down on your calendar?”

  Ainslee reached under the counter, pulled out her purse and dug inside for her Blackberry. “Four o’clock next Tuesday. Right?”

  “Right, but there’s a little something else I’d like to add to the agenda I already sent.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A surprise baby shower for Ginger, right after the meeting. Not a big one—just the people at the hospital who’ve spent time with her and the ladies from our Bible study.”

  Ainslee smiled. “I can make that work. But how are you going to get Ginger there, when she’s supposed to be on bed rest?”

  “I’ve already gotten an okay from her doctor.” Elena held a pair of sparkly purple rhinestone earrings up to her ears and checked them out in the mirror, twisting her head this way and that. “And she’s bored at home. I was hoping you might talk her into coming to the meeting and—”

  “Your wish is my command,” Ainslee said. “Anything else I can do?”

  “I think you’ve volunteered more than enough. Your mom will have my head if I ask you to do too much.”

  “She worries too much. She’s given me a mile-long list of foods to eat, foods not to eat, foods that will cause gas, you name it.”

  Elena heard the frustration in Ainslee’s voice. Anabelle could be a little, well, domineering on occasion. “Your mom just wants you to be healthy. Goodness knows she’s taken care of enough pregnant women in her years as a nurse, that she knows what’s good and what’s not so good.”

  “She doesn’t like my choice of colors for the nursery. I e-mailed her a picture of the crib and changing table Doug and I have ordered, and she said a Jenny Lind–style, with all those fussy spindles, would be better than the sleek, ultramodern crib Doug and I fell in love with. And last night she called to tell me she’d ordered a book for me on HypnoBirthing. She’s sure it’s something I’ll want to try, all about using mind over matter to erase pain. For some reason, she’s not happy with any of my decisions and—”

  Ainslee sighed heavily, then laughed. “Once a little girl, always a little girl, I guess.”

  “And once a mom, always a mom.” Elena smiled. “Just you wait and see.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ELENA SPRINKLED HOT SAUCE ON HER SCRAMBLED eggs as she sat in the booth at Ripley’s Diner. She would have preferred chorizo in her eggs, the way she made them for Cesar, but she hadn’t come into the restaurant at six o’clock because she was dying for a delicious breakfast. She was here to talk with Albert Varner as soon as his Bible study group ended.

  Picking up a piece of thick, crispy bacon, she took a bite, chewing it slowly as she watched the doors at the back of the restaurant slide open. There had to be a good fifteen or twenty men inside the meeting room, some in business suits, others in jeans and Tshirts, slacks and golf shirts and one in a Chicago Bulls sweatshirt. Definitely a mixed bunch, with their faith in the Lord in common.

  Albert Varner was in the middle of the group, shaking hands, talking, laughing, everyone taking forever to leave.

  Elena wiped grease off her fingers and took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice as the men finally started filing out. Albert Varner was one of the last, and the moment he got close, Elena pushed out of her booth and walked up to him, trying to look casual, quite a feat when she felt like she was spying on an old friend.

  “Mr. Varner,” she said, smiling her best guilty smile, “good morning.”

  Elena hated the look of his frown, wondering if he was going to blow past her, head right out the door, get in his car and take off. But slowly the frown eased, he said good-bye to the men he was with and held out his hand to Elena.

  “Hello, Elena.” His handshake was warm and strong. “I should be surprised to see you here, but Sandy told me the two of you had talked at choir practice the other night, so my guess is you’ve come here hoping to talk about the rumors floating around the hospital.”

  “Good guess.” Elena laughed lightly. “If you have a moment—”

  “Do you have a table already?”

  He didn’t waste much time, Elena thought, glad she didn’t have to convince him to sit down for a talk. She scooted back into her booth and pushed her plate off to the side of the table. When the waitress walked by, Mr. Varner asked for a cup of coffee then folded his forearms on top of the table. “You know, Elena, you’re the last person I ever expected would track me down and try to find out if the rumors running rampant at the hospital are true.”

  “The rumors have nothing to do with me being here this morning or trying to talk with Sandy the other night. But”—Elena grinned as she lifted her cup of coffee—“do you have spies inside the hospital telling you what’s going on?”

  “I had the best assistant imaginable.�
�� He stirred sugar into the cup of coffee the waitress set in front of him. “Penny has kept me informed of just about everything, at the risk of her own job.”

  “The rumors are ridiculous. Whistle-blower I might be able to believe, but insider trading?” Elena shook her head. “Never.”

  She took a sip of her coffee, watching Mr. Varner closely, hoping to read his face, to figure out what he was thinking, but he didn’t reveal a thing physically, or verbally either.

  “But the rumors aren’t the reason I wanted to speak with you. And even though I’d love to know why you left the hospital and why there’s a press release out saying you were fired because you didn’t have enough support from the board to be successful at the helm of Hope Haven—which is absolutely ridiculous—I don’t expect you to tell me what was behind the whole thing.”

  “Then what do you want?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and watching her over the rim.

  “I want you to come back to the hospital.”

  “The board already has a replacement in mind, so that’s a moot point.”

  “Only if you let it be a moot point.” Elena held her coffee cup out when the waitress walked by, let her fill it to the brim, then emptied three packets of sugar inside. “Nearly every person working at the hospital has signed a petition stating that you should be reinstated.”

  “Or what?” Mr. Varner asked, as Elena stirred the sugar into her coffee. “Petitions are all well and good for stating your case, for letting the government or some other entity see how many people support a cause. Unfortunately, the board doesn’t have to look at your petition or even recognize its existence.”

  “Considering that they haven’t even responded to individual letters,” Elena said, “that doesn’t surprise me. But don’t you feel that once the board sees how the staff, and I’m including Zane McGarry, feel about you, how much everyone respects you and how much we want you back, they might reconsider?”

  “It’s a business decision, Elena. Unfortunately, my stance on a couple of issues—”