On one hand, he was immensely proud of the report he’d put together, confident that his recommendations could make a real and lasting difference to the Children’s Aid Society going forward.
On the other hand, he still struggled with one particular issue, one he’d wrestled with for some time.
Inside the main doors, he draped his overcoat over his arm and made his way up the wide stone staircase to the second floor. When he reached the conference room, he glanced at his watch. With twenty minutes before the meeting started, he welcomed the quiet of the hushed hallway to hopefully come to terms with the difficult decision he’d made.
He crossed to one of the large windows overlooking the street below and stared at his hazy reflection in the glass. Am I doing the right thing, Lord? Am I being truly unbiased, or is my judgment clouded?
After accusing Jane of not being objective enough in her job, Garrett hated to admit that he’d lost the neutrality required in undertaking this study. Somehow along the way he’d become entwined in Jane’s life and in Martin’s. Over the past two days as he’d prepared his report, Garrett realized that in order to fulfill his mandate, he would have to set aside his personal feelings and be totally honest in his final recommendations.
Even if his honesty could be hurtful or possibly considered a betrayal.
Garrett peered closer at his reflection, straightening his tie and smoothing back a stray lock of hair. It all boiled down to one thing. What kind of man did he wish to be, both in the business arena and in his personal life?
The war may have cost him a lot of things, but Garrett still prided himself on his integrity. The belief that a man’s word was worth only as much as his actions behind it. That doing the right thing no matter what was paramount. He let out a weary breath, then stiffened his spine. As much as it might pain him to do so, his path remained clear. The path he’d known he must follow all along.
With a prayer on his lips, he continued down the hall toward the meeting room. Outside the double doors, nerves swirled in his stomach as he waited for the members to invite him inside.
Minutes later, the door opened, and Mr. Fenmore motioned him over. “Hello, Garrett. We’re ready for you to join us.”
Garrett forced a confident expression to his face as he followed the man inside.
Twelve men and four women of varying ages sat around the long conference table. A haze of smoke rose above their heads from the numerous ashtrays on the table, filled with freshly lit cigarettes and pipes.
Garrett did his best not to waver under their scrutiny. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Mr. Wilder.” The white-haired man at the end of the table gestured to an empty chair. “Please have a seat.”
Garrett placed his briefcase on the table and sat down. He removed a folder and laid it before him. “As you requested, I am prepared to report on my findings.”
Mr. Fenmore resumed his seat. “Excellent. The board and I are eager to hear them.”
Garrett loosened the knot of his tie and cleared his throat. “I’d like to start by saying that except for my conclusions on the child protection department, this report is complete. Once I finish my last interview with the supervisor, I will combine my results and submit the total package.”
“Very well. Please continue.”
“I’d like to start with my biggest area of concern, the severe physical limitations of the building.” Garrett took out another sheet. “In particular, the meeting rooms on the second floor are severely overcrowded, which makes it impossible to conduct an interview with any semblance of privacy.” He looked up. “Mrs. Linder indicated that plans for expansion, or a possible relocation to larger quarters, have been put on hold, likely due to the war.”
“That’s correct,” Mr. Fenmore said. “It didn’t seem prudent in these unsettled times to make such a drastic and costly change. We remain hopeful that once the war ends, we can continue with these plans.”
“It makes sense given the uncertainty of the economy. However, with the increase in the caseloads, finding more space has become a requirement that cannot be ignored. Do you realize the social workers see over two hundred clients a day in that building? How they manage is nothing short of a miracle. As an interim solution, I propose that we look into leasing temporary space. Given the economy, I believe we should be able to find a rental at a reasonable rate, one that could tide the agency over until expansion is prudent.”
Garrett paused for a moment. “I would also advise keeping the office staff separate from the caseworkers. Right now, the waiting area for clients is situated directly opposite the clerical space, which leads to much disruption. The constant comings and goings are most distracting and not conducive to an efficient workplace. If a separate location isn’t possible, I would suggest designating a separate floor for the clerical staff. In addition, the caseworkers themselves require more privacy in which to conduct their client interviews. I propose that any future space procured for them be sectioned off into smaller, more private work areas. This might even be doable on a temporary basis with the present facilities for a minimal cost.”
Several heads nodded around the table, and pens scratched over their notepads.
“Another concern I have is the heavy reliance on volunteers in the office, something I would like to see changed in the future.”
“I disagree, Mr. Wilder.” One woman spoke up. “Volunteers have been the backbone of the Children’s Aid for many years. I doubt we’d be able to function without them.”
From her passionate response, Garrett presumed she had likely started out as a volunteer herself. “I’m not disputing that, ma’am. Certainly, I have seen how beneficial the volunteers can be for services such as visiting the children at the shelter, sewing and knitting clothes, and donating gifts and food. All are greatly appreciated. What I take issue with is them being privy to certain confidential records, particularly the finances.”
Garrett’s gaze moved to Mr. Warren, who leaned forward in his seat. “I would have to agree with Mr. Wilder on this account.”
“I’ve had the opportunity to study the agency’s financial records in some detail, both during Mr. Mills’s time and during his absence.” Garrett glanced at his notes and straightened his back. “Overall, the records appeared to be in order. However, in more recent entries, I did find evidence of the tampering Mr. Warren mentioned. I brought the issue to Mrs. Linder’s attention, and she was greatly distressed by it.” He made a point of looking directly at several of the board members. Eye contact was a crucial way to inspire trust.
“Did you learn who is behind this?” Mr. Warren said.
“One obvious suspect was Mr. Bolton, the bookkeeper. But before we accused him, I wanted to dig deeper to see if anyone else might be involved. Mrs. Linder discovered that Miss Dupuis, one of the caseworkers, was using her position to exact unwarranted payments from unwed mothers to find their babies the best possible homes. Apparently, the two were dating and had concocted the schemes together.”
Audible gasps sounded from several of the members.
Mr. Fenmore’s already ruddy complexion grew crimson. “Has this situation been handled?”
“Rest assured, sir, it has. As of two days ago, the police have taken over, and both Mr. Bolton and Miss Dupuis have been arrested.”
“Can we hope the authorities will keep our name out of the matter? We certainly don’t need this type of publicity.”
“The police have assured us they will be as discreet as possible.”
Mr. Fenmore expelled a loud breath. “That’s good news. We owe you a debt of gratitude, sir. I had no idea anything so nefarious was going on within our walls.”
Mr. Warren scowled. “Which doesn’t say much for the current directress. She not only initialed the fraudulent ledger entries, but she was unaware of worse crimes going on in her midst.”
Garrett clenched his fingers around a pen. “That’s hardly fair, sir,” he said in an even tone. “Unless one of the women in
volved had come forward, no one could have known. We have Mrs. Linder’s quick actions to thank for resolving this situation so expediently. Otherwise, Miss Dupuis might have continued her crimes unchecked.”
An uneasy silence descended over the room. Garrett paused to focus back on his notes before forging ahead.
“Now that Mr. Bolton is gone,” he continued, “I propose that the agency hire a part-time accountant to keep the books. Records of such a confidential nature should be safeguarded.”
Mr. Warren slapped the table. “Which is what I’ve been saying for years now.”
“Duly noted,” Mr. Fenmore replied with a wry lift of his brow.
“Before we move on from this topic, I would also recommend that all records be kept in fireproof storage. I’ve noted too many cardboard boxes and wooden file cabinets for my liking. These records need to be safeguarded against any potential damage and archived in the same manner.”
“That sounds wise,” another woman said. “I could look into the cost of obtaining fireproof cabinets.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Browning. That would be appreciated.” Mr. Fenmore turned back to Garrett. “I’d like to know your findings on the children’s shelter and the matron.”
“Certainly. From what I’ve observed, Mrs. Shaughnessy runs a tight ship. The children are healthy, well cared for, and well-disciplined.” He pushed the thought of Martin out of his mind. His case was out of the ordinary, to be sure. “One recommendation I have is that a building maintenance fund be established for future repairs. The residence is starting to age and will soon need updating as well as additional ongoing maintenance.”
Several members made notations on their pads in front of them.
“A sensible plan.” Mr. Fenmore nodded, then tapped his fingers on a folder in front of him. “And now we come down to the heart of the matter. What have you found out about Mrs. Linder? Does she have any bearing on the downturn in the agency?”
A bead of sweat trickled down Garrett’s back. This was the part he’d been dreading. “I’ve not ascertained any direct connection between Mrs. Linder and the agency’s troubles. Nor did I find anything amiss in her conduct as directress. She has a wonderful rapport with both the staff and the children.”
One man snorted. “That isn’t exactly an asset. The director’s position requires respect and absolute authority. Not camaraderie.”
“I disagree, sir. I believe it requires a healthy balance between the two. And speaking of balance, it’s my opinion that Mr. Mills might have had too close an involvement in all areas of the agency, perhaps to the detriment of his health.” Garrett’s thoughts turned to Jane and how she tried so valiantly to fill her mentor’s shoes. “It seems to me that the director should delegate more responsibility to the department supervisors instead of immersing himself in the minutiae of the day-to-day operations. Biweekly or monthly staff meetings with the department heads would allow him to keep up with the details, leaving him more time to devote to the overall concerns of the agency.”
“You have a point.” Mr. Fenmore leaned forward. “Tell me, how is Mrs. Linder coping with the stress of the position?”
Garrett ran a finger under his collar. Despite the open windows, the room had started to feel overly warm. He drew in a breath, dreading to give the statement that would seal Jane’s fate. “I would have to say that Mrs. Linder appears . . . overwhelmed by the duties involved with the position. She admits she doesn’t have a head for finance, and her efforts to obtain additional funding, which is so sorely needed, have been minimal at best.” He hesitated. Forgive me, Jane. “While Mrs. Linder has done no direct harm to the agency, neither has she provided much benefit. Although she has managed to keep the agency afloat in this time of transition”—he paused as his chest constricted—“I cannot see her being a good fit to take the Children’s Aid Society into the future.”
A murmur went around the table. Several heads bent together, whispering.
Garrett’s chest ached. How could Jane take this as anything other than a betrayal? But he had to be honest, and the truth was that he didn’t feel she was the best person for the job.
“Her talents,” he continued, “are much better utilized in the area of social work, where she indeed excels. I have witnessed firsthand her passion for the children and her unwavering commitment to ensure every child has a loving home.”
Mr. Fenmore nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Wilder. I believe your findings concur with our assessment of Mrs. Linder’s performance as well.”
Mrs. Browning lowered her glasses to glance around the table. “I’ve always held Mrs. Linder in high regard, and I propose we do all we can to keep her as a caseworker.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Browning. I agree.” Garrett smiled at the woman. “Continuing on that subject, I intend to officially present some of Mrs. Linder’s ideas for reforming the adoption criteria. As you know, the war has made it harder to find people willing to adopt, and those who do often wish to adopt newborns. Mrs. Linder feels, and I concur, that if we were more flexible regarding the adoption of older children, more of them could be placed in loving, albeit slightly unconventional, homes.”
An uncomfortable silence descended on the room until one woman spoke up. “I think this is a commendable idea. One we should study in greater detail. I look forward to reading your full report, Mr. Wilder.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Is there anything else you wish to say before we conclude the meeting?” Mr. Fenmore asked.
“I believe those are the highlights, sir. A more detailed account will follow in my written report.”
“Very well.” Mr. Fenmore rose, a sign that the meeting was over. “Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Wilder. We will take all your recommendations under consideration.”
Garrett rose as well and handed Mr. Fenmore a piece of paper. “At this time, I’d like to offer my official application for the director’s position. Now, more than ever, I feel I could be an asset to the Children’s Aid Society as we move forward.”
Mr. Fenmore accepted the paper with a nod. “Very good. I will be in touch.”
Garrett closed his briefcase and stood. “Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen.” He gave a slight bow. “Until our next meeting.”
Regret set in as soon as Garrett returned to the office, guilt slicing through him the moment he passed Jane’s door. Though everything he’d told the board members was the truth, he couldn’t help feeling that he’d betrayed Jane’s trust. Yet he couldn’t in all good conscience allow his personal feelings to interfere with his professional duty. He only prayed that she would see it that way as well.
He shoved his briefcase onto his desk, then palmed the back of his neck as he paced his work area. What would Mr. Fenmore do now that he’d heard Garrett’s opinion on Jane’s performance? Would he call Jane in for a meeting, or would he simply inform her over the phone that she would not be considered for the position?
Garrett owed it to Jane to inform her what he’d reported so she wouldn’t be caught off guard by such a call. Even if it meant she would hate him.
With a heavy heart, he walked down the hall to her office and knocked.
When there was no answer, he checked the time and realized it was past noon. He went into the lunchroom but found only Melanie seated there.
“Jane’s gone over to the shelter, in case you’re looking for her,” she said.
“I hope there’s no problem.”
“No, she just went to visit the children.” Melanie set her sandwich on a plate. “She likes to do that whenever she can.”
“Right.” He remembered her saying that the first time they’d gone to the shelter. “Well, I’ll catch up with her later, then.”
“Is anything wrong? You don’t seem yourself today.”
Garrett forced a smile. “Everything’s fine.” Except I’ve just crushed Jane’s dreams.
“I guess you’ll be leaving us soon, once your final report is c
omplete.”
He nodded, attempting to ignore the twist in his stomach. “I’ll likely be done by the end of the week or maybe early next week.”
“It’s been fun having you here.” She winked at him. “You certainly added some interest to the place.”
He chuckled. Now that he had gotten to know Melanie, he could tell she just enjoyed flirting with him and wasn’t serious about pursuing him. “Thank you . . . I think.”
Instead of returning to his work area, Garrett grabbed his overcoat and left the building, heading toward the shelter. Perhaps he would run into Jane on her way back.
When he’d first arrived over six weeks ago, he’d been filled with blind optimism, thinking he could sweep in, make his study, and in his infinite wisdom, lay out all the solutions to the agency’s problems. How naïve could he have been? He kicked a pebble off the cement, watching it bounce over the street. Not even the beauty of the fall day or the swirl of colorful leaves on the sidewalk could lift his somber mood.
He was almost at the shelter when Jane emerged. She lifted her collar against the brisk breeze and started toward him, stopping in sudden surprise when she noticed him on the sidewalk.
“Garrett. Were you looking for me?”
“Yes. I hoped we could talk for a minute before going back to the office.”
Two grooves formed between her brows. “Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly. But I’d like to let you know what I reported to the board this morning.”
“I see.” She fell into step beside him.
For a while they walked in silence, with only the sound of traffic breaking the stillness. Garrett knew he was stalling. Trying to stretch out this time when they were still on good terms.
Finally, he couldn’t put it off any longer. “Jane, it’s no secret how much I admire you, not only for the work you do but for the person you are. Your intelligence, your compassion, and your heart for children are all qualities that make you such an excellent social worker.”
Her steps slowed until she came to a stop. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes, eyes that seemed the color of jade today. “I appreciate the compliments,” she said slowly, “but I sense you’re trying to tell me something.”
To Find Her Place Page 20