by Carol Henry
“I don’t know, Mindy. I hate it when I get those queasy butterflies fluttering around inside me. Like when I visited Charles today. I had this awful premonition before I even knocked on his door, and look what happened.”
“You’re feeling a bit down. Losing Charles can’t be the big loss you’re making it out to be, especially knowing how he feels about Nina. Come on, I’ll call the agency and set something up for you.”
Before Gabriella had a chance to stop her, Mindy had three appointments scheduled for the following Tuesday.
“I’ll watch Nina in the morning, but I’m afraid you’ll have to take her with you in the afternoon—Trish and I both have labs we can’t skip.”
Gabby’s stomach fluttered.
****
Gabriella checked her watch. Great. She was already late. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and waited for the heavy traffic to clear. Checking to make sure it was safe, she inched her vehicle out into the left lane and headed toward the Lake District.
The first two interviews had not gone well. What an understatement. The woman at the first interview was bedridden, needed round the clock care, and a medical professional. Gabriella knew without a doubt the woman belonged in a nursing home. The thin, white haired lady hadn’t been responsive during the entire interview.
The person at the second interview was so cantankerous, and in the late stages of Alzheimer’s. His children’s loud, demanding, angry attitude toward him, and what they demanded of a home-health aide, had her shaking her head at the sadness of it all. She definitely wasn’t the person for this position either. She hoped the third time was the charm. Literally. She needed a job. However, she wasn’t sure it was worth going to the last interview. She had no businesses applying for a position as a health aide. What was Mindy thinking? Why had she let Mindy make all these arrangements? One of them needed their head examined. Trouble was, she had a feeling it was her.
Gabby had hurried home after the second interview, fed and changed Nina, gulped down a cup of coffee, and bundled them both into her Saturn. She headed out to the afternoon appointment with a Mr. and Mrs. Hempstead. She inched her way through the streets of downtown Ithaca during lunchtime traffic on snow-covered streets, turned up Route 89 on the opposite side of Cayuga Lake. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and cursed each red light. She wanted to get this interview over with and chalk the day up to another miserable letdown. She checked her watch while she waited for yet another light to turn green.
She finally found the address listed on the sheet the employment agency provided, and made a right turn onto a long, curving driveway lined with mature, snow covered blue spruce. The grounds surrounding the house reminded her of a Christmas card dotted with red cardinals perched on coated branches and Cinderella-type animals snuggled underneath. In the distance, a gigantic yard lay covered in snow, dotted with bare maple trees, and sloped down toward the water’s edge. It was a great yard for children to romp around in, to build snowmen in, or even build an igloo or two. Gabriella remembered the good times growing up in Pennsylvania and the snowball fights she and her sister used to enjoy with their parents—skating on the pond, searching for the right Christmas tree on their grandparent’s family farm.
Despite her melancholy misgivings, her spirits lifted.
Gabriella rounded another clump of trees and stopped in front of an impressive and enchanting three-story Victorian home overlooking Cayuga Lake.
“Just look at this home, Sweetheart.” She half turned to Nina. “I bet they’ve enjoyed some wonderful family holiday gatherings here, too.” Gabriella sighed. Tears threatened.
She shook her head and recalled the disappointing exchange with Charles, and the little fender-bender of a few days ago. Had she been too hasty in breaking it off with Charles? The last two interviews were a bust, and already the money the man from the crash had stuffed in her hand had dwindled. What if this interview goes nowhere? Maybe Staffing Solutions could find her something other than a home care position in another week or two.
Right. Who was she kidding? There weren’t any other openings at the moment. Other than dog-walking. She had no intention of trudging through the snow-covered winter streets with several dogs yanking and tangling the strings, tripping her and landing in the slush and snow.
Nope. This was her last chance.
Gabriella took a deep, steadying breath, sighed, and got out of the car. She walked around the vehicle and lifted Nina from the back seat. Gabriella smiled at her niece. She had made the right decision—picking Nina over Charles.
“Well, Nina honey, here goes.”
Gabriella kissed the infant on the forehead and tucked the warm blanket over the infant’s head. “I’d ask you to cross your fingers and toes, but I know I’d be asking a lot. Just be the cute cuddly baby you are and we’ll see what happens.” She lifted the sleeping baby from her car seat, and settled her over her shoulder. “Let’s get this over with, sweetie,” she whispered—her voice wobbled.
Gabriella walked to the front porch, up several steps leading to a set of large double oak doors with enormous fresh scented pine wreaths attached to each panel. She raised the old-fashioned brass doorknocker and let it fall in place. The scent of pine tickled her nose. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. She was reminded of the hillsides of Pennsylvania at the family farm and warm memories of the many holidays shared with her sister. She closed her eyes wishing she could experience them again with Nina.
The door opened wide and a rotund, middle-aged woman greeted her along with a great stream of warm, tantalizing holiday spices. The woman’s colorful Christmas apron, decorated in tiny gingerbread cutouts along the edges, was dusted with flour. It was obvious she’d been in the middle of baking.
“Hello, I’m Gabriella Rumsey. I’m here to interview for the health aide position with Mr. and Mrs. Hempstead,” Gabriella spoke in a rush. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“That’s okay, Dearie, the Hempsteads are expecting you. I’m Ethel, by the way.” The woman welcomed her with a lilting voice and a ready smile. “Come on in here out of the cold.”
The entranceway was decorated for the holiday season with a wide ribbon of green velvet intertwined along the curved banister of the formal stairway—it took Gabriella’s breath away. Boughs of evergreens hung at measured intervals. The foyer, carpeted in an intricate wild dusty rose pattern, ran the length of the stairway leading to the second floor.
“Here, let me take your wee bundle while you get out of your coat.” Ethel lifted Nina out of Gabriella’s arms with tender care, and drew the blanket back. “Oh, what a sweet babe,” the woman crooned.
Nina opened her eyes and let out a wail.
Great. What a way to start an interview. The job was as good as gone.
“I’m sorry. She doesn’t like strangers much,” Gabriella said, reaching for the infant.
Ethel started bouncing Nina in a gentle, swaying motion, side to side. To Gabriella’s amazement, Nina stopped crying. And gurgled and cooed up at the smiling woman for all she was worth.
“Why, she’s just a bit tired from being all bundled up in this weather.” Ethel held Nina tight against her ample chest and patted and rubbed her back at the same time. “Follow me, now. Mrs. Hempstead is in the library. It’s her favorite spot next to the fire. I’ll have tea and fresh muffins ready in just a moment. Why don’t I keep this wee one with me so you can have a nice chat without being disturbed?”
Gabriella followed like a puppy, relieved for the moment that Nina wasn’t fussing.
“You just go on in while I tend to tea,” Ethel said. “They’ll be waiting for you.”
Gabriella’s breath caught when she entered the huge lovely library. A soothing, healing sensation of homecoming enveloped her. Shelves of books lined two of the walls, and a large floor-to-ceiling picture window trimmed in solid oak filled another. But it was the enormous stone fireplace that dominated the room with its bright, cheery fi
re crackling in the open grate. Gabriella had a quick flashback of pilgrims standing next to a big kettle of soup with bread baking on the hearth.
She didn’t see the couple sitting to the side of the room until the gentleman spoke.
“The fireplace has the same effect on everyone the first time they see it.” The tall gentleman stood and stretched out his hand. Gabriella’s hand disappeared in his large, sturdy, yet gentle clasp. Without a doubt, Mr. Hempstead was king of his castle and dominated the room with his presence. But in a nice way. He smiled, making her feel welcome. The agency had informed her he’d recently had gall bladder surgery—he didn’t look as if he’d undergone anything more serious than the removal of an ingrown nail. His warmth and ready smile put her at ease.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, referring to the fireplace. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“No need to apologize, my dear. As I said, we get the same reaction from everyone who sees it for the first time. The house was built in the early 1800s, and this was probably the main meeting room, as most kitchens would have been either downstairs or off in another building. We’ve added the bookshelves and the large window right after we moved in almost twenty-five years ago. It’s our favorite room. Come. Take a look out the window. We have a great view of the lake.”
Gabriella followed Mr. Hempstead over to the large window and gazed in amazement at the panoramic view of Cayuga Lake. The lake stretched north for miles.
“No wonder you love this room. The view is fabulous.”
“You should see the lake when it’s lit up on the Fourth of July during the annual Lights Around the Lake event. It’s spectacular. Anyway, with Helen stuck in a wheelchair now, this is a splendid room for her to spend the day recuperating. Isn’t that right, my dear?” Mr. Hempstead turned toward the fireplace.
A small woman huddled in an oversized wheelchair, a lap rug tucked over her knees smiled warmly at them. Mrs. Hempstead wheeled her chair out from around one of the high-back chairs. She was dressed in a burgundy sweater, and every single strand of her snow-white hair was styled neatly in place, forming a bob around her delicate, angelic face.
“I’m pleased to meet you. Excuse me if I don’t get up,” Helen Hempstead said with a warm, welcoming smile.
Gabriella walked toward Mrs. Hempstead as the woman pushed her wheelchair forward to meet Gabriella halfway.
“You must be Gabriella Rumsey. I hope you found the place without too much difficulty.”
Gabriella took the hand Mrs. Hempstead offered only to have Mrs. Hempstead clasp her other hand over top of hers, cupping them. Comforting warmth flowed between them, and Gabriella relaxed. She liked this couple very much. They reminded her of her parents.
“Have a seat, my dear,” Helen offered. “Come. Sit by the fire. It’s such a windy day today as you can see by the whitecaps on the lake. Now then, why don’t we get started before Ethel comes in with our tea?”
Gabriella followed Mrs. Hempstead back toward the fireplace and sank into one of the overstuffed chairs. It would be so easy to close her eyes, snuggle into the deep folds of the seat and take a nap. Having a baby in her room made for a few sleepless nights. Instead, she sat up straight on the edge of the chair, and placed her hands in her lap.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Mr. Hempstead told her, looking sideways at his wife. “I’m recovered enough to go back to the office on Monday. Been away too long as it is. Just can’t take sitting around here while there are things to be done at the office. Now, Helen on the other hand…”
“Chadwick, you know you shouldn’t be returning to work so soon,” his wife interrupted. “It won’t hurt you to take another week off to make sure your health isn’t affected. That old stuffy office of yours can wait a little longer.”
“I’m fine, dear. You just like having me around the house to wait on you and keep you company.” He turned to Gabriella and smiled. “We made up our minds to hire someone to keep Helen company so I can go back to work without a guilty conscience. I’m not good at sitting around all day—even at my age.”
“I do have Ethel, dear. But you’re right. She is busy enough as it is keeping up with everything now that the holidays are here and our son has come for a visit. I’m usually very active,” she said. “But this hip has set me back making more work for everyone else.”
Her eyes twinkled, her lips a broad grin defined the fine bone structure of her rosy cheeks. The woman reminded her of Mrs. Claus.
“I do need someone to help out on occasion and of course, to keep me company while Chadwick is at the office. Now, what can you tell us about yourself?”
Gabriella looked back and forth between the two during their obvious loving married-couple banter. She smiled, liking them even more, and wondered if they would terminate the interview once they found out she was a single parent.
Regardless of whether she had a chance at this position or not, Gabriella needed to be honest. She gave them a brief run down on her situation. About to tell them about Nina, Ethel entered the room maneuvering a teacart loaded with a heaping platter of pumpkin muffins and a steaming pot of tea with one hand. In the other, she tugged a small bassinet-type carriage on wheels behind her. Gabriella marveled at her ease at dealing with both at the same time. She caught the strong aroma of ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg and her taste buds started to water.
Mrs. Hempstead spotted Nina.
“A baby! Oh, my, Chadwick… a tiny baby,” she clapped her hands together in front of her chest. “Why, you didn’t say you had an infant with you.” Mrs. Hempstead scolded and beamed at the same time, all but clapping her hands together. “We just love babies, don’t we Chadwick?”
For a moment, Mrs. Hempstead looked to be on the verge of tears; she was so excited—truly overcome with joy.
“Thought you might be ready for your wee-one,” Ethel said, lifting Nina from the bassinette. “She’s been a real good baby, she has.”
“Well, you just bring her right on over here to me,” Mrs. Hempstead said. “Do you mind if I hold her? I just love to hold sleeping babies. Chadwick, I think this is going to work out just fine. Just fine, indeed.”
Mrs. Hempstead didn’t wait for Gabriella’s permission to hold the once-again sleeping infant. Ethel, with careful but firm movements, placed Nina in Mrs. Hempstead’s waiting arms. The petite woman, clearly in her element, cuddled the tiny baby who snuggled in her warm welcoming arms.
“Having a baby in the house again is going to be wonderful,” Mrs. Hempstead cooed.
Gabriella wasn’t sure what had just happened. Had she just been offered the position?
“I thought we’d never have another baby in the house, dear.” She looked at her husband. “You know how Chad feels about marriage.”
Mr. Hempstead stood shaking his head at his wife, not saying a thing. His smile, however, showed his amusement. And his love for his wife sparkled in his smiling eyes.
Helen Hempstead’s eyes were glued to the sleeping baby in her lap. “This is so wonderful, my dear. You can move in this weekend, can’t you?” She turned to Gabriella, her eyes pleading.
Move in? Was Mrs. Hempstead asking her to move in with them? This was way beyond her expectations. She hadn’t contemplated a live-in position. Especially, having Nina. But it would solve a major problem she hadn’t wrestled with yet. Her roommates were going home for winter break. She and Nina could stay with Mr. and Mrs. Hempstead and not be alone during the holidays.
“Now, Helen. Don’t get yourself all worked up over this baby. It’s only to be a temporary situation. Besides, there’s Sheila and Sean’s new baby, Devon.”
“I know. I know. But they live clear the other side of town, and since I’ve been in this darn contraption I don’t get out and about as much as I’d like.” The wheelchair-bound woman turned to Gabriella. “I have several grandchildren, and Sheila and Sean just had a new baby boy, but they don’t come over much at the moment so I can get my fill of that sweet ba
by boy. And my girls don’t bring my grandchildren to visit because they’re afraid the kids will get underfoot and become a nuisance since I broke my hip. But with you here, I’m sure things will change.”
Gabriella didn’t know how her being there would change things, but she liked Mrs. Hempstead. And it didn’t look as if the job was beyond her capabilities.
Mr. Hempstead rolled his eyes at his wife and continued to shake his head.
“Gabriella, you’ll have to excuse my wife. She is besotted with babies, even if they aren’t family. As you can see by the pictures scattered around the room, we are a close family.”
It was hard not to be affected by the warmth filling this house—this home. Oh, how tempting it would be to take this job during the winter break. Until after the holidays. It would be heaven to have time to rethink her life, and determine what was best for Nina.
Mr. Hempstead led Gabriella over to the mantel lined with framed photographs surrounded by sprigs of evergreen, and red and gold bows.
“These are our three children when they were babies,” he said, a smile in his voice. “And here’s one of each of them when they were in kindergarten. Now, here’s when they were in high school—that’s Sheila, and Jodi and here’s Chad.”
On the opposite side of the mantel, photos of the children when they were in high school and college were also displayed. But before Mr. Hempstead continued, the library doors flew open.
All heads turned as one to see a tall handsome man with ice-blue eyes, and dark curly hair, standing rigid, hands on hips, with a frown on his face sure to freeze hell over in a heartbeat.
“Chad,” Mrs. Hempstead called out.
“Son,” Mr. Hempstead said, pleased.
Oh, no! It couldn’t be! Gabriella gasped and almost choked on the warm dry air caught in the back of her throat. The man who had rear-ended her car the other day was none other than Chad Hempstead.
What were the odds?
The hands of fate had just dealt her another unlucky blow.