A Big Life in a Small Town (Bellingwood #2) Read online

  Polly pulled up her notes program and began composing a list of things she needed to accomplish before the day was out.

  She smiled at Jeff when he came in and sat down in front of her desk.

  "Are you rested up from last week?" he asked.

  "Just barely. It nearly killed me to get out of bed this morning."

  "Me too. But, here we are. I hope you were happy with how the day went."

  "Jeff, I don't know how I could have been happier. What a wonderful day."

  "It was wonderful. I think we made a good impression on the community."

  "I hope so. I'm going to live here for a long time," she said.

  "We have people coming in to clean up the auditorium this afternoon, but I think we need to talk about bringing on a part-time custodian. You can do laundry and cleanup in the rooms, but we need more help after big events and Polly, I have eighteen emails and three voice mails requesting more information on dates for weddings, birthday parties and even a Quinceañera reception."

  "That's exciting! And you're right. Let me see what I can do. I'll try to get someone hired this week. It would be good to have them on board to help us keep up."

  “By the way," he said, "do you want to put some blackout dates in the calendar so I don’t schedule every day?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Polly, there is going to come a day when this place has a lot going on. Think about how much you needed to be alone yesterday. Could you do that with activities happening down here?"

  "Jeff, I really didn't leave the apartment except to take Obiwan for a couple of walks."

  "Do what you want, but I've warned you."

  "Thanks. I'll think about it."

  Henry, Leroy and Ben walked in. "Good morning!" Henry said. "Do I smell breakfast?"

  Polly's phone chimed and she said, "I don't know how you did it, but that's perfect timing. Come on, it's ready."

  She pulled the pan out of the oven and Jeff brought out plates and silverware. Jerry Allen showed up with Doug and Billy, and were soon joined by Sam Terhune and Jimmy Rio. They laughed and talked about the great day they'd had on Saturday. Temperatures were supposed to be in the mid-forties again and Henry wanted to get up on the roof and push forward. Jerry was going to install the breaker box and take electricity into the building, hooking up interior lights and power boxes. Before too long, she was going to have a barn.

  Polly let them get to work and cleaned up the kitchen, then set up the buffet server for lunch. She stuck her head in Jeff's office and said, "I'm running out for a little bit, I'll be back."

  He was on the phone, so he nodded and waved. Polly ran upstairs to get her coat and then headed to the grocery store uptown. It was a small store with only four aisles, but they seemed to serve the community well. She stopped at the small produce section and chose some apples, bananas and grapes. It didn't take long to wander the aisles, but Polly pushed the cart and filled it with things she needed for her own refrigerator. She stopped in front of the frozen foods and found herself drawn to a frozen pizza. It had been so long since she'd popped one of these in the oven and shared it with her friends in college. Without another thought, she whipped the freezer door open, grabbed a pizza and tossed it in the cart. She picked up some wrapped candy for the office, M&Ms for herself and headed for the checkout counter.

  No one was there and she had to press the bell for service. A young woman came from the back and said, "Good morning, Polly!"

  Polly smiled. This was going to be her life for a while. Everyone knew her, but it was going to take time for her to know their names. "Hi there, and I'm sorry," Polly said, "I don't know your name."

  "I'm Dana Bright. Sylvie always talks about you, so I feel like I know you." Polly put her groceries on the counter as Dana checked her out.

  Henry's roofing crew had expanded and they were heading up the ladders when she arrived back at Sycamore House. She grabbed the grocery bags and went inside, finally returning to her office to make her calls.

  The first was to Rev. Boehm. His secretary told her that he generally took Mondays off, but Polly told the woman what she wanted and was promised a return phone call.

  She had asked Jeff for a list of people who should receive thank you notes and that was sitting on her desk. That was her next task and she figured the sooner she started, the better, but was interrupted by a woman rapping on the main door of the office.

  "Good morning?" she queried.

  "I'm Joanna Wagner and you have a room for me?"

  Polly shouldn't have been surprised and managed to maintain a semblance of control. This poor woman was trying to remake herself into her image of a nineteen sixties artist and she'd failed miserably. In her late forties, her hair had been spikey, but was growing too long to hold its shape. She had rings filling her fingers and colorful bracelets of all widths covering her arms, under an expensive and well-tailored coat. Polly could tell she wasn't used to them, because she fiddled with them over and over. She was wearing a variegated colored skirt with a tailored blue blouse. That had to have been from her former life. Her shoes were brand new and she was wearing dark blue leg warmers. The picture in front of Polly was one of a woman desperately trying to understand a life that had previously been alien to her.

  "Hi, Joanna," Polly said, as Jeff stepped out of his office. He offered to take the woman up to her room, explain the lock system to her and help her get settled. All Polly could think was that this poor woman needed a few doses of Beryl Watson before she escaped from Bellingwood. She wrote a quick note to herself; she was going to make sure that happened.

  Her phone rang and she answered, "Hello?"

  "Good morning, Polly. This is Del Boehm. Sue said you called about some food from Saturday night? That was quite a feast you put on."

  "Hi Pastor Boehm. It was a lot of fun, but we have quite a bit of soup, barbecue and salads left over and I was wondering if you might know anyone in town who could use the food? It's all in family sized containers and I can deliver it or do anything you like to make it happen."

  "Sue mentioned this to me and I called two of my cohorts and yes, we have three families among us who are in a bit of a crisis right now. This would certainly help them out. If you don't mind, I'd like to stop by in the next hour and then I'll make the deliveries. I hate to embarrass them, you know."

  "That would be great. How bad are these situations?" she asked.

  "One of them is pretty rough. They're close to being evicted. He got laid off and hasn't been able to find work. The other two are holding on, but just barely."

  "That was another thing I wanted to talk to you about. We're looking for a part-time custodian and I don't know where to begin. I thought you might know someone who needed a job. It's not going to pay much right now, but if things keep going as I think they will, the job will grow and there is also for extra income if they want to work the events we're holding."

  "You know, Polly, people around town keep talking about what you're doing here. If this is what they are experiencing, I can see why so many are big fans. I'm going to call Shawn Wesley and bring him with me. Would you mind doing the interview this morning? If they thought there was hope on the horizon, it would do wonders for them."

  "Why don't you two show up around eleven and I'll have the food bagged up, then you can do what you like with it while I talk to Shawn."

  "He's a little rough around the edges, Polly, and he could use a job."

  "If you're putting in a good word for him, Pastor, I'll keep that in mind."

  "Thank you, Polly."

  She thought for a few moments and wrote a quick note to Jeff that she'd be back and left it on his desk. She ran out to her truck and drove back to the grocery store. When she got inside, Dana was finishing up with another customer.

  "Did you forget something, Polly?"

  "No, I need to talk to you about something."

  The woman left with her groceries and Dana said, "How can I help you?"

  "
I need three gift cards, do you have something like that?"

  "I don't have gift cards, but I can write out a gift certificate. Who is it for?"

  Polly stopped. She didn't know any of the names except Shawn Wesley and she hadn't asked if he was the guy Pastor Boehm had talked about being laid off.

  "I don't know their names. I just need to buy the gift certificates. Does it matter?"

  "No, I guess it doesn't. How many do you want?"

  "I need three fifty dollar certificates."

  Dana looked at her and then opened up a drawer and pulled out a book. "Okay. I can do that." She filled out three certificates and said, "Do you want an envelope for these?"

  "Sure, that would be great." Dana slipped each one in an envelope and handed them to Polly, who paid for the transaction.

  "Thanks a lot, Dana," she said and left again. It broke her heart to think of the amount of food they'd served on Saturday when there were people in the same community who were barely getting by.

  Back at Sycamore House once more, Polly went to the basement and found three boxes, then nearly tripped up the steps when one caught on the railing. She was laughing and sputtering at herself by the time she opened the door to the main hallway.

  "There you are," Jeff said. "What are you doing?"

  "Trying to kill myself on the basement steps. What's up?"

  "Our new guest is settled in her room. She loved it and told me she would find a great many sources of creative inspiration outside her windows." He put air quotes around the last part of the sentence. "I don't think she's been doing this very long. She mentioned something about a mid-life crisis and I don't think it was hers."

  "That makes some sense," Polly laughed. "Good for her, then. Did you give her the first delivery of requested items?"

  "She is good to go. She appreciated the water filter pitcher in the refrigerator and the extra bottles and said she would be glad to have what we're serving for lunch, but would like to take it to her room. She wants to embrace the room," he said with more air quotes.

  Jeff took two of the boxes from Polly and said, "Where are we going with this?"

  "To the kitchen," she said and began walking. "Pastor Boehm is stopping by to take a significant amount of our leftovers to a few families who need some extra help."

  "Great!"

  "I asked him if he knew someone who might work out as our custodian. He's bringing a young man with him at eleven for an interview," she dropped her box on the floor in front of the prep table. "Would you mind helping him get this stuff to his car while I do the interview?"

  "Sure. He seems like a good guy. I didn't expect to see the preacher dancing on a Saturday night, but I guess anything can happen!"

  Polly laughed. "He and his wife do seem awfully normal, don't they?"

  They had fifteen minutes before Pastor Boehm arrived, so the two of them organized containers from the freezer and refrigerator into each of the boxes, then Polly tucked an envelope in where it wouldn't get dislodged, but could still be easily found.

  "Thanks for taking care of this. I'm going to run in and print out an employment application. It shouldn't take too long and I'll get lunch going."

  Pastor Boehm showed up promptly at eleven and Polly met them in the main office.

  "Polly Giller, I'd like to introduce you to Shawn Wesley," he said.

  "Thank you, Pastor. Jeff is in the kitchen with the boxes. Shawn, would you come into my office?"

  Shawn Wesley had obviously cleaned up quickly. His longish brown hair was still damp. Polly could smell that he was a heavy smoker; his clothing was clean, but still reeked of it. He wore a flannel shirt open over a green t-shirt which was tucked into jeans with a belt cinched much tighter than it should have been and his feet were shod in well-worn cowboy boots. He strode in with an attitude of self-confidence, but Polly saw that it was nothing more than a facade.

  He sat down and planted his feet in front of him. She wasn't sure if he was scared or surly, and chose to believe that he was simply nervous.

  Polly pushed the application across her desk and set a pen on top of it. "Could you fill this out for me, please? I need to have some record of information before we begin."

  He took the pen in hand and after glancing up at her to see if she was watching him, began filling out the various sections. Polly did her best to ignore him, paying attention to absolutely nothing on her computer screen. After a few uncomfortable moments, he set the pen down and pushed the paper back to her. He still hadn't said a word.

  She looked over the paper. He'd held quite a few jobs, the last one at the chicken processing plant in Webster City. He'd been laid off from there last July and there was no record of work since then.

  She was going to give him the job at this point, no matter what. He needed work, the pastor had asked her to interview him, and she couldn't help herself.

  "Are you looking for other work?" she asked.

  "There's not much around here to do and since I had to sell my car, I can't get out of town to apply for jobs," he responded.

  "If you don't have a car, how would you get here?"

  "I guess I would walk unless I can find a ride."

  "How far away do you live?"

  "We live up on Beech, west of the cemetery."

  Polly did some quick calculations. That was a little more than a half mile away. It could be done, but she wasn't terribly confident.

  "Tell me about your family," she said.

  "We only have the one kid. She's in sixth grade."

  "I'm willing to give you a try here, Shawn, if you want to do the job. It's not full-time yet because we don't have enough going on, but that will probably change in a few months and we'd pay you extra if you work the events that happen here."

  "Okay. I'll try it."

  "We have people coming in this afternoon to clean up the auditorium. If you'd like to start, I'm serving lunch at noon and you could begin at one o'clock with them. I'd show you around later on and tell you what my expectations are. Then, let's plan on four hours every day."

  He fidgeted in his chair, then said. "I wasn't planning on working today. I got things going on."

  "Nothing you can't change?" she asked.

  "I suppose I could if you make me."

  "I'm not going to make you do anything, Shawn. I'm only trying to get you started."

  "What hours would you expect me here the rest of the week?"

  Polly took a breath through her nose, then slowly released it. "Why don't you plan to start at ten every morning and work until two thirty. We generally have something to eat on site and you could take a half hour break at noon to eat with us."

  "I wasn't planning on getting a job this week and have something going on tomorrow, too. So, I'll show up on Wednesday?"

  "Great. Come find me at ten on Wednesday and I'll show you around."

  "Is there anything else?" he asked, standing up to leave her office.

  "No, I guess that's all for now," she said.

  He walked out into the office and around the corner, heading for the front doors. She saw him pull a smart phone out and make a call. As soon as he cleared the front door, he walked past her office window lighting a cigarette. What had she gotten into?

  It hit her that she had promised lunch to the men out on the roof, so she dashed back to the kitchen, quickly warmed up the meat, potatoes, and baked beans, and filled the buffet warmer. Whew, she'd pulled that off just in time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Polly breathed as she counted off the numbers in her head. She had heard nothing from Shawn and his application was already on her desk. She'd waited long enough; she dialed his number. When she got his voice mail, she said, "Shawn, this is Polly Giller from Sycamore House. I expected you to be here this morning at ten o'clock and it is now ten forty-five. Please call me as soon as you receive this message and let me know what is going on."

  It didn't take long for her a
nger to rise. She glanced up when she heard the front door open. That certainly wasn't Shawn Wesley. Then, she realized she was looking at Elise's LL Cool J double. She jumped out of her chair and ran out to greet him. Elise was right; he could pass for the actor any day.

  "Good morning! Are you Elise's cousin?"

  His voice was much deeper than she expected, "I sure am. Don Dobler is my name." He handed her a note of introduction signed by Elise.

  "Let me show you to her room and then I can help you pack up her things, if you'd like."

  "Don’t worry. I have my boys in the truck and they're here to work. We'll get it all cleaned up and be out of your hair in no time."

  She took him up to the room Elise had occupied and opened the door. He perused the room and said, "I got it."

  Polly left him at the front door and from her office saw him walk back in with two men at least as big as he was. They were carrying boxes and followed him up the steps. In half an hour, he stopped in and said, "Would you mind coming back upstairs and checking the room?"

  She followed him and saw that things were back to normal. He'd stripped the bed and left sheets and towels in a pile outside the room. "Can I take these somewhere for you?" Polly smiled. No one had slept in the bed since she’d re-made it last week.

  "No," she said. "I've got this." The room had been completely emptied and looked a little forlorn.

  "Since she left so early, I owe Elise a refund. If I write a check to her, can you make sure it gets to her?" Polly asked.

  "No, Miss Giller. Elise doesn't expect anything back from you. If you ever get to Paris with her, take her out for a nice dinner." He winked at Polly.

  She was a little surprised at the allusion to her last conversation with Elise, but figured she should just be quiet. "I'll do that. Thanks for doing such a nice job in here. I wish I could hire you!"

  He smiled and picked up the laundry. "I bet your washing machine is downstairs, isn't it."

  "No, I've got it."

  "I'll carry these down and you can get it from there, deal?"