When We Found Home

by Susan Mallery

  “You’re so mean.”

  “And proud of it.”

  * * *

  Malcolm thanked the custodian, then stood and shook his hand. The older man smiled as he left.

  A couple of times a year, Malcolm set up a temporary office in one of the warehouses and invited his employees to come talk to him about whatever was on their mind. The company was growing fast and he wanted to stay in touch with everything that was happening.

  There was a sign-up sheet for appointments and he made sure to build in time so if he had to go view a workstation or tour a stockroom, he could.

  He made notes about janitorial supplies then looked up as the next person entered. His welcoming smile changed to confusion when he saw Callie.

  “You’re my three thirty?” he asked. “Why would you bother?”

  Her expression hardened slightly. “I need to talk to you about work and my understanding of the company policy is—”

  “I know how this goes, but we live in the same house. You could have talked to me there.”

  “This is about business.” Her tone was defensive. “I waited until after my shift.”

  Malcolm realized he was handling the situation all wrong. Callie hadn’t even told him what she wanted and she was already upset.

  He forced himself to relax as he offered her a smile. “Please, have a seat. Next time, feel free to talk to me whenever you’d like. During your shift is fine with me. Thank you for scheduling the meeting. Do you want coffee or a soda?”

  She eyed him suspiciously as she sat on one of the chairs opposite his desk. “I’m fine.”

  She pulled a piece of paper out of her back pocket. As she held it, he realized her hands were shaking. He frowned.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Can we get through this?”

  “Certainly. Go ahead.”

  Callie cleared her throat. “First, there’s a woman I work with. Frankie. Her son, Levi, has cancer. It’s been really hard on her. He has to go back in the hospital for treatment and he’s only eight.” Her gaze narrowed as she glared at him. “That’s younger than Keira.”

  “I’m aware of that. What’s the problem? We have family leave time for this sort of situation. She can simply apply for it.”

  Callie’s expression didn’t soften at all. “She’s used it up, and her sick leave and her vacation time. She’s a single mom and Levi is her only child. She can’t lose her job because she needs the insurance to pay for the treatments. It sucks all around.”

  Malcolm had to agree. Before he could ask what he could do to help, Callie continued.

  “Everyone in her department wants to donate a few vacation days to her but our manager says they can’t and he told everyone not to take it to HR. That seems wrong to me. It’s their vacation days. Why can’t she have them? The work is still getting done. Frankie’s been here over ten years. She’s well liked and well respected. She’s a mentor, Malcolm. This is a really crappy way to treat a valued employee.”

  “You’re right,” he told her. “It is and I in no way agree with what the manager told her. That is not at all what we intended when we set up the company policies. We wanted to make things easier for our people, not harder.” He picked up the paper. “Tell me Frankie’s last name. I’ll get with HR as soon as we’re done here. She can have as much time off as she needs. I’ll make sure her manager understands the policy.”

  Some of her tension seemed to ease. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nodded at her list. “What else?”

  She glanced at her notes. “I’ve been working on the line filling baskets for a few weeks now. The lever for the cellophane dispensing machine is horrible. It’s hard to use and the angle is wrong. When someone has to do small baskets, they’re stuck using that machine all day. It physically hurts. It needs to be fixed. Several people have complained but no one is listening.”

  Malcolm had a bad feeling that the “no one” in question was the same manager who had not helped Frankie. Yes, they were a for-profit company, but everyone in management was supposed to understand that their people were their greatest resource.

  “Email me the machine number and I’ll have maintenance look at it before the close of business today.”

  She relaxed in her chair and smiled at him. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Also, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention our conversation to your coworkers. People are going to get moved around and there might be some retraining. It would be easier if no one thought it was punishment.”

  Her smile faded. “You’re not going to fire the supervisor?”

  “Not if I don’t have to. However, if the retraining and a new position don’t improve things, then I’ll revisit my decision. Next?”

  She tilted her head. “I have trouble understanding you. In some ways you’re just so nice and in others, you’re a complete, a completely different person.”

  He had a feeling she’d self-edited that last bit, but didn’t call her on it. Instead he waited while she glanced at her notes.

  “Okay,” she murmured. “Last is the baskets. I’ve been working on custom baskets for nearly a week now. One thing that keeps coming to mind is all the food is for adults.”

  He frowned. “Who else would it be for?”

  “Kids.” She grinned. “Hey, if someone can afford forty-dollar olive oil, then they can probably afford some upscale kid-friendly foods. When I was in Houston, I worked for a caterer. You’d be amazed how much parents spent on parties for their children. I’m just saying that there are a lot of opportunities. Maybe come up with one or two kid party baskets with different kinds of cookies and maybe some prizes. Or a ‘make Mom breakfast in bed’ basket.”

  He felt the beginnings of a headache. “While that’s really interesting, Callie, we have a R&D department. Their entire job is product development. I’m sure they’d already been over this material and have decided it’s not worth the trouble. I honestly can’t see anyone buying their kid a food basket from a place like ours. We already sell cakes.”

  “Not for children. They’re too fancy and focused wrong. What about cupcakes in a jar? Those are really popular and—” She pressed her lips together. “Never mind. You’re not interested.”

  The tension was back. “It’s not that. I appreciate the thoughts. You’re a part of the family and a part of the company. Maybe it would help if you went to college and—” He realized a sentence too late how that was going to sound.

  “Right,” she said, coming to her feet. “Because God knows I couldn’t possibly have a good idea without a four-year degree. I mean, who am I? Some hick with a few community college classes and a string of blue-collar jobs.”

  “Callie, no. That’s not what I meant. You’re new here and we’ve tried a lot of food items that didn’t work. I’m sure we’ve visited the kid thing. It’s not viable. I appreciate the enthusiasm. I’m sure that in time and with more training you’ll learn that...”

  He stopped as he realized he was digging the hole deeper.

  “What? What will I learn? How much time? How much training?” She shook her head. “Forget it, Malcolm. You’re right. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I haven’t gone to college and I haven’t been here that long. Just take care of Frankie and the lever and screw the rest of it.”

  She was embarrassed. He could see it in the flush on her cheeks. He’d made her feel bad about coming to him, which wasn’t at all what he wanted.

  “Callie—”

  She started for the door, then stopped and turned to him. “You know what’s really interesting? There are a few people here who remember our father. They’re not saying much, which leads me to believe he wasn’t that great a guy. Something we’d already guessed by how he treated Keira and me. It’s really too bad you had to take after him.”

 
She walked out of his office and slammed the door. Malcolm leaned back against the sofa and wondered how everything had gone so wrong so fast.

  * * *

  Callie hurried toward the locker rooms. She had to get out of the warehouse as quickly as possible, before anyone saw her and figured out what had happened.

  Malcolm had totally dismissed her and had treated her like an idiot.

  “Stupid, asshole brother,” she muttered. “You think you’re better than the rest of us. You think you’re such hot shit that you control the world. Well, you don’t control—”

  She rounded the corner only to come to a complete stop as she saw Paulo standing there. He had a clipboard in his hand, but instead of studying it, he was looking at her. As if he’d heard everything she’d said.

  Her mind replayed her mini-tirade and she had to hold in a groan. Worse, double worse, he knew who she was. Or rather he knew who her brother was. And if he told anyone, she was going to be in big trouble.

  “I...” she began, only she didn’t know what to say.

  Paulo surprised her by winking. “It’s okay, Callie. I have an older brother, too, and there are times when I feel exactly the same way.”

  Which was nice of him to say, except his older brother was Santiago and she couldn’t imagine him ever acting as horrible as Malcolm.

  “I won’t repeat a word,” he told her as he turned to walk away. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Which probably should have made her feel better, but oddly enough, really didn’t.

  chapter nineteen

  “You know there’s a baseball game on,” Hanna said pointedly.

  Santiago stayed where he was, leaning against the kitchen counter. “No, thanks.”

  His sister-in-law sighed. “You are getting in the way.”

  “Then put me to work.”

  Yes, there was a game on but no way he was going to go into the family room with Paulo. Not when Callie was helping out in the kitchen.

  Their morning had started great with Callie more beautiful than ever in a pretty navy dress. They’d sat close to each other in church. She’d surprised him by listening attentively to every word, then thanking him for inviting her.

  “Before moving to Seattle, I hadn’t been to church in forever,” she’d admitted on the drive back to his brother’s house. “I want to go more often. I appreciate you reminding me how much I enjoyed having a spiritual life.”

  She was just getting better and better, he thought as Hanna pointed to a stack of potatoes. “Peel those,” she instructed.

  He washed his hands and reached for the first potato. Callie returned from the powder room and tied an apron around her waist as she smiled at him.

  “Can you handle that without adult supervision?” she asked, her voice teasing.

  “I’m giving it a go.”

  They were having a traditional Sunday lunch, with prime rib and mashed potatoes. Hanna had started slow roasting the prime rib early that morning so it would be ready on time. Callie had brought a cheesecake that she’d made herself. He’d never met a woman who could make cheesecake. Now she helped Hanna with the vegetables, dicing and measuring as they worked on some casserole dish.

  “This is nice,” Hanna said with a smile. “I’m usually in the kitchen by myself.”

  “Where are your kids?” Callie asked.

  “Next door, with their grandmother. They spend the time from church to lunch with her, just hanging out and talking.” Hanna sighed. “They’re both getting so grown-up. I don’t know how long we’re going to have these traditions with them.”

  “They’ll always have the memories,” Callie told her. “Wait and see. I’ll bet they keep the tradition for their kids.”

  “That would be so nice.” Hanna laughed. “But maybe I’m not ready to think about my babies having babies just yet.”

  “Thinking about having more babies?” Santiago asked, his voice teasing.

  Hanna threw a piece of red pepper at him. “Bite your tongue. That part of my life is long past.”

  Which was a shame, he thought, because he liked babies. They were always growing and changing. He liked how they smelled and how they fit in his arms. He’d always assumed he would have kids of his own someday.

  His gaze slipped to Callie, then he forced himself to look away. Too soon, even for him.

  “Besides,” Hanna added, “I got my baby fix satisfied at work. The pediatric rotation was so fun and my friend Melody is having a baby in a couple of months.” Hanna wrinkled her nose. “A couple of us are throwing her a shower. I really have to start working on that.”

  “Do you have a theme?” Callie asked. “Once you figure that out, the rest usually falls into place.”

  “I hadn’t thought of a theme. Have you given a lot of baby showers?”

  “I used to work for a caterer.” Callie smiled. “We did more kids’ parties than I want to think about. Baby showers can be really fun and it’s an opportunity to be creative.”

  Paulo walked into the kitchen. “Who’s throwing a baby shower?” he asked, staring pointedly at his wife.

  Hanna’s shoulders went back. “I am, with a couple of women in my class. I told you about it. Everyone is pitching in.”

  Paulo glowered. “How much is that going to cost?”

  Santiago felt the tension between them and sensed this was not the first fight about the shower. What was the big deal? If it made Hanna happy, wasn’t that good enough? He was about to say something only to remember that his brother had his own life to deal with and no one appreciated him butting in.

  Paulo muttered something under his breath. He grabbed a beer and stalked out of the kitchen.

  “Sorry,” Hanna whispered.

  Callie looked at Santiago as if asking if everything was okay. He could only shrug. She turned to Hanna.

  “Do you know if the baby is a boy or a girl?”

  “A girl.”

  “Okay, so here’s some ideas. You can do a tea party-themed shower. You can pick up kids’ tea sets at thrift stores for practically nothing. Use those for your colors. You serve tea sandwiches and scones and fresh fruit. Honeybees are popular right now. You could do a honey-themed shower using yellow and black as the colors.”

  “Isn’t that a bumblebee?” he asked.

  Callie laughed. “Yes, but it’s okay. Cartoon bees are cute. Books also work. If the mom-to-be has a favorite kid’s book, use that as the theme and use the illustrations as a guide for colors and decorations. Let’s see. What else? We did a really cute shower back in Houston. They were naming the baby Mavis.” She sighed. “Don’t ask. Anyway, the theme was based on the old I Love Lucy TV show, but instead it was I Love Mavis. Everything was ’50s inspired. It was a big hit. Oh, and with the food, you can do things that pop. Popcorn, cake pops. You know, because the mom is ready to pop.”

  Hanna blinked several times. “Wow. Just wow. You gave me so many great ideas in like five seconds. How did you do that?”

  “Like I said, I worked for a caterer. Besides, I really like kids’ parties. Give me twenty dollars and an hour at a thrift store and I can dazzle.” Callie laughed. “On the other hand, if I’m shopping for myself, I’m totally lost. I can give you my number, if you’d like. We could brainstorm a few things.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  Santiago went back to peeling potatoes. He told himself that the pride he felt had nothing to do with him. Of course Callie was brilliant. He shouldn’t expect any less. Still, he was proud as hell and happy. Just stupid happy and it felt good.

  * * *

  Callie breathed in the salt air. After lunch, she and Santiago had changed clothes. He’d driven to the waterfront and they were making their way to Pike Place Market. She felt good—relaxed and happy. She’d enjoyed the church service, and the lunch had been s
o much fun. Everyone had talked all the time, there’d been plenty of laughter, and she’d felt totally welcomed and accepted.

  Almost as exciting, she’d felt she fit in. Her dress had worked perfectly and now, in jeans, a sweater and her new leather jacket, she felt carefree and pretty.

  They were probably normal emotions for everyone else, but not for her. Not in a very long time. For once she wasn’t defining herself by her past but by who she was that day.

  “Thanks for making the cheesecake,” Santiago told her, taking her hand in his. “You didn’t have to do that, but it was delicious.”

  “It’s not hard to do and I had a good time in the kitchen. Keira helped me. I always enjoy her company.”

  “You were terrific with Emma and Noah today. They both like you.”

  “They’re great kids.” She glanced at him. “Are Hanna and Paulo having problems?”

  His mouth twisted. “I don’t know. I think so. They’re fighting a lot and Paulo belittles her. I don’t think that’s a good sign.” He sighed. “My mom would tell me to stay out of it.”

  “I think your mom is right. People have to make their own way.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not my way. I prefer to wade in and rescue the world.”

  She laughed. “So I’ve heard. Maybe this would be a good time to look in another direction and hum the Jeopardy! theme until the need passes.”

  “I might have to take you up on that. So where did you get all those shower ideas? From your previous job?”

  “Uh-huh. The caterer I worked for specialized in a lot of family parties. Baby showers, wedding showers, kids’ parties. We were always trying to come up with something new and different.” She glanced at him. “There are communities where things like parties for children become a competition, which is kind of sad, but good for business.”

  She hesitated, then admitted, “I tried to talk to Malcolm about incorporating food items for kids’ parties into the company’s selection. I’ve been working on baskets for a while now and it seems to me that could be something that sells.”

  Santiago surprised her by pulling her close and lightly kissing her. “Beautiful and smart. Am I the luckiest guy or what?”