“Little Mermaid first,” Gracie said.
Jamie got the movie started, left the door open so she could hear and see Gracie, and went to work. She opened the first of twelve file drawers and shook her head. Lord love a duck! How did these poor people find anything in that mess? Before she could start on the stack of to-be-filed papers, she needed to straighten up what was already filed. Starting at the back of the first drawer, she removed the dark-green folder and carried it to the desk.
After she’d organized the whole thing by date, she couldn’t decide whether to file to the front or the back. She dug her cell phone from her purse and called her grandmother, who did volunteer work at the health clinic. “Mama Rita, I’ve got a summer job and I need help.” She went on to tell her everything.
“Put the newest forms to the front. That way they’ll be able to open the file and see exactly what happened recently. And I’m glad you are working at something where Gracie can go with you, but don’t get too comfortable up there,” Mama Rita said.
“They do have an opening for a third-grade teacher,” Jamie said.
“Promise you will think before you jump,” Mama Rita said. “You tend to let your heart rule your mind.”
“I promise,” Jamie said.
She slipped the paperwork back into the folder, now all neat and organized so that the newest documents were on top. At midmorning she was on her third cup of coffee and was chewing up the last of her half of the orange crackers when a middle-aged woman entered the office.
She swallowed quickly and covered her mouth with her hand. “May I help you?”
“I’m Paula Greeley, the principal here at Bootleg Elementary.” She stuck out her hand.
Jamie shook it, hoping the whole time that she didn’t leave orange stains on Paula’s hand. “I’m pleased to meet you. It’s been quiet here this morning, so I’ve gotten half this drawer organized. This needs to be done before I can work on that pile of papers or start doing anything on the computer.”
“Thank you!” Paula dropped into a chair and fanned herself with the back of her hand. “It’s going to be another scorcher out there, and us chubby people take a while to cool down. Victor says that he’s been talking to you about teaching here this fall.”
“Do you know who I am?” Jamie eased down into the chair behind the desk and ran her tongue around her teeth.
“I know exactly who you are. The whole town of Bootleg knows about you three women, and we commiserate. What a nightmare! But nothing that man did surprises us, not after Iris. No one here is going to hold that over your heads.” Paula grabbed a tissue from a box on the desk and wiped sweat from her forehead, then pushed her salt-and-pepper hair back behind her ears. “Are you even interested in the position?”
“I’m not sure,” Jamie answered.
“Moving here would sure enough be a cultural shock from inner-city Dallas,” Paula said, “so I imagine you’d have to give it a lot of thought.”
Jamie smiled. “Yes, it would, but I’m amazed at how much my daughter is thriving here. You are right, though, it’s something I need to think about.”
“So far we don’t have any applicants, so you’ve got time. But about the first of August, they’ll come out of the woodwork. All the plum jobs will be filled and people will be looking for anything, even if it means teaching at a little backwoods school like we have, so let me know if you decide to apply.” Paula stood up. “Until then, thank you for taking on this part-time job for us.”
“Thank you for the consideration and for giving me a summer job.”
Paula smiled. “From the looks of that drawer up there, we both got a good deal.”
Kate expected Jamie and Gracie to have gone to school that Monday morning when she awoke, but she was surprised to see that Amanda’s vehicle was also missing. That meant for the first time she had the place to herself. She stuffed a biscuit with leftover bacon and grape jam and carried it to the porch.
After she’d eaten it and finished a second cup of coffee, she began to pace from one end of the porch to the other and back again. Still nothing from the lawyers, and the idea of not sharing the letters was weighing on her heart. The other two had every right to know what was going on. There might even be something in them to help Waylon.
She picked up her phone and called the lawyer. While it rang, she crossed her fingers like she’d done as a child when she really, really wanted something. The angels who granted wishes must’ve been on strike that day, because the news was that they hadn’t found anything out yet.
She could go home and let the dust from all the drama settle. She’d go to court and get her maiden name back, and since she’d be the new president of Truman Oil, no one would dare voice out loud anything about the Conrad scandal. She’d about talked herself into packing her bags and leaving when her phone rang.
“We’re about ready to go to the hay field,” Waylon said.