Day by Day (11 page)

S
ome days, Judy was tempted to get back into bed, pull up the covers and spend the entire day hiding from the world. Unfortunately, this was one of those days….

Her day started with a call from the plumber telling her that the problem with the toilet was now fixed, to the tune of ninety dollars. His news made the toothbrush Brian had accidentally flushed down the toilet one very expensive toothbrush. She had been interrupted in the middle of giving Mrs. Rosen a permanent by a call from the refrigerator repairman with even better news. Her eighteen-year-old refrigerator was not worth fixing. Unless she wanted to live with several coolers permanently lined up on her countertop to keep her food cold, she needed to buy a new refrigerator.

Torn between relief that the toilet was working again, her annoyance with Brian and anxiety about financing the refrigerator she could ill afford, she needed another call
from the school like she needed to have yet another appliance break down.

With Mrs. Rosen now under the dryer, she gripped the telephone receiver hard. “Yes, I’m Brian’s grandmother,” she replied and braced herself to hear more bad news.

“This is Pam Smith. I’m President of the PTA at Park Elementary this year. Since you haven’t volunteered for one of our school activities this year, I thought I’d call and see if we could set something up for you.”

Judy sighed with relief that Brian had not gotten into trouble again. “I wish I could help, but I work full-time.”

“A lot of our mothers are working. Fortunately, we managed to get all our Room Mothers and library aides this year already. I was thinking that perhaps you could help with the Book Fair. It’s the third Saturday in October. Each school sponsors a table offering used books for sale, with proceeds directly benefiting that school. Gail Maguire was going to organize the book donations we’ve been getting at the school since last year’s fair, but she’s laid up with a bad back and won’t be able to do it for us.”

Judy hesitated. “I’d like to help, but I don’t know all that much about books, and I work on Saturdays. Perhaps there’s something else—”

“It’s really very easy, assuming you can tell the difference between a cookbook or a novel or an accounting book,” she added with a chuckle. “We’d need you to weed out any book that would be inappropriate, of course. The books are all at the school. All you’d really have to do is organize them by category, affix stickers with the prices, and be able to set them out on the tables early the day of the Book Fair,
say seven o’clock? We have all the volunteers we need to sell the books once the fair opens at ten.”

Judy heard the door to the salon open, nodded to Mrs. Hart when she entered, and held up a finger to let her know she would be right with her. “I’m sure I could organize them, but I still can’t get to the school during the day. I work—”

“No problem. Mr. Fletcher, the janitor, is on duty weekdays from three until nine every night. He can let you in, and you could bring Brian along. You could even get a friend or two to help so it wouldn’t take much time at all. We really do need to get started….”

As Pam Smith droned on, Judy waited for the woman to draw a breath so she could politely decline, but the dour look on Mrs. Hart’s face told Judy she needed to end the conversation now or risk alienating a client. “Fine. I’ll do it. Let me call you later—”

“Wonderful! There’s no need to call me back. I’ll tell Mr. Fletcher to expect you and several friends, perhaps. Thank you so much!” She hung up, leaving Judy no choice. She either had to find the time to organize the books or the courage to call back and tell Pam she had changed her mind.

Judy gave Mrs. Hart a smile. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. The PTA at Brian’s school needed someone to organize the book donations for the Book Fair in October.”

Mrs. Hart cocked a brow. “And you agreed?”

Judy shrugged, still not convinced she would be able to find the time. “I guess I did.”

“Good. I’ve got boxes of books in my basement and no way to get them to one of the schools. Since you’re in
charge, I’m sure you’ll be able to do that for me.” She looked around the salon. “Ann’s not here? I have an appointment with her.”

“No, I thought she called you. She’s—”

“Not that gout again, I hope.”

Judy shivered. “No, she’s beat that for the time being. She’s at the dentist this morning. She broke a tooth. She said she was going to call you at home to reschedule.”

“I’ve been away for a few days. Will you have time? I just wanted a wash and set.”

“No problem,” Judy assured her and set aside her concerns about volunteering time she did not have to concentrate on using the time she did have today to keep Mrs. Hart satisfied as a client.

By one o’clock, the last client had left the salon, and Judy had two hours to herself before she had to be at the Towers. She ate the brown-bag lunch she had packed for herself, chased the peanut butter and banana sandwich down with freshly brewed iced tea, and packed up the rest of the baked goods from McAllister’s without taking a pastry for herself. She left the box behind the reception desk to pick up later, ready to head out to the appliance store, when Ann hobbled into the shop.

“I thought you were going straight home after the dentist.”

Ann’s novocaine grin was lopsided as she leaned on the cane she had been using while recovering from her most recent encounter with gout. “I thought I’d stop in on my way home. Did Mrs. Hart come in for her appointment? I couldn’t reach her to reschedule.”

“She just left. She said to give you her best.”

“Thanks. Are you ready to hear my good news?” she asked sarcastically.

Judy grimaced. “Don’t tell me you had to have the tooth capped.”

“Even better. I’m getting a triple crown bridge.” She shrugged. “I think that’s what Dr. Randall called it. Lucky me. Seems the tooth next to the one I broke is cracked, and the tooth on the other side…Well, to make a long, sad story a bit shorter and sweeter, I’ve got a full-morning appointment scheduled for the end of next week. He just patched me up until then.” She shook her head. “Dr. Randall said I just might get the Most Chair Time Award this month. That’s one award I’d like to let someone else get!”

“I’m so sorry,” Judy murmured.

“Me, too. I’m falling apart, from one end to the other, aren’t I?” She chuckled and looked around the shop.

“Maybe Jamie is right. Even with a fresh coat of paint, the shop’s still just an old gal, like me. I’m not sure how much longer either one of us will hold up before we both just disintegrate. Maybe it’s time to really think about what that means and retire both of us.”

Alarmed, Judy walked from behind the reception desk and put her arm around Ann’s shoulders. “You and the shop are both going to hold up just fine for a long time,” she insisted, although the idea that Ann would one day retire suddenly loomed as more than a distant possibility. “You’re just feeling a little down. First the gout. Then your tooth. This time next week, when you can put that cane away for a while and you have your new crowns, you’ll be feeling a whole lot better.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Ann paused and fiddled with the handle on her cane. “Jamie wants me to retire and move down to North Carolina to be near her. She’s got plenty of room. I could live with her until I find a place of my own. I told her I’d think about it.”

Judy swallowed hard. Ann’s daughter had moved south years ago, but she and her mother had remained close—a stark contrast to the estrangement between Judy and her own daughter. Setting aside a tinge of jealousy, she gave Ann a hug and smiled. Maybe getting Ann to help with organizing the books for the Book Fair might take her mind off her health problems long enough to set aside any real thoughts of retirement and moving away. “You’re way too young to retire, and I think I know just what you need to make you feel better.”

“A new set of teeth and a new set of toes?”

Judy chuckled. “Sorry. I wish I could, but—”

“A big hunk of chocolate?”

“No. Don’t even think about it, or you’ll be flat on your back again.”

Ann shrugged. “So what do you think will make me feel good enough to forget about retirement?”

“I don’t know. Maybe having something important to do. Something…something that would take your mind off your troubles. Maybe some volunteer work for the school?”

Ann stared hard at Judy. “You’re going to try to talk me into doing something you already volunteered to do, aren’t you?”

“Well, it’s not that I don’t want to do it, but I sure could use some help. The president of the PTA called this
morning, and I promised I would help organize the books donated to Brian’s school for the Book Fair. You wouldn’t have to actually help me to organize them. I could get some of the other mothers to do that. Maybe you could just help by making up the stickers with the prices. That would be a great help. If you feel up to it, that is,” she added with a grin.

“If I’m up to it?” Ann straightened her shoulders. “Of course I’m up to it. I can stop and buy the stickers on the way home. You’re going to the Towers, right?”

“Not until three, but I was just getting ready to leave. I have a few errands to run,” she admitted, although she was reluctant to complain about buying a new refrigerator when Ann was dealing with the much more important issue of her health.

“You go ahead. I’ll just rest up here a few minutes before I head off.”

“If you’re not feeling well, I can stay with you—”

When Ann gave her a no-nonsense glance, Judy held up both hands. “All right. All right. I’m going.”

Judy picked out a basic refrigerator, arranged for a late delivery the next afternoon and put the purchase on the emergency credit card she kept just for occasions like this. With careful spending, she might even be able to pay off the cost of the refrigerator in less than a year and keep the finance charges to a minimum.

She left the store, checked her watch, and frowned. She had spent over five hundred dollars in less than fifteen minutes! Feeling guilty after she compared this expense with what Ann was facing, she turned her thoughts to the
problem of her new volunteer job. Ann’s help notwithstanding, Judy still needed to recruit some volunteers to help her do the physical job of actually organizing the books. The few friends she had had before Brian came to live with her all had grown children. They had paid their dues to the school years ago, just as Judy had done with Candy. Although supportive of her new situation as both mother and grandmother to Brian, they had far less in common now than they had had a few short months ago.

Madge Stevens came to mind first, but Judy suspected that Madge was already involved with the Book Fair through Sarah’s school. She glanced down the avenue, saw the sign for Sweet Stuff and thought of Ginger King, who worked there part-time. Although Ginger had said her grandson was not staying with her much longer that day at the school when they had met, that had been several weeks ago. Judy had seen her from a distance just this morning getting into her car when dropping Brian off at school. Maybe Ginger would like to help organize the books.

Judy could ask Barbara Montgomery, too, although she was not sure if now was a good time. The announcement that the police were investigating two suspects in Steve’s death had been in the headlines for over a week now, and Judy was reluctant to intrude on Barbara’s privacy, despite their common interests in raising their grandchildren and their budding friendship. If neither Ginger nor Barbara volunteered to help, however, Judy would seriously have to face doing the job all by herself.

After crossing the street, she passed The Diner and waved to Madge who was sitting in a corner booth with
her sisters, Andrea and Jenny. Two blocks later, she entered Sweet Stuff, paused just inside the door and let her senses absorb the absolute wonder of stepping into every chocoholic’s dream. The air was heavy with the scent of chocolate, and chocolate confections of every shape and size and flavor filled the glass-fronted candy cases on the wall opposite the door. Delicate pink lace curtains on the storefront window matched the painted walls and the carpet beneath her feet.

Directly ahead to her right, an old hutch displayed vintage favorites: Teaberry Gum, Mary Jane sweets, candy cigarettes—though she thought that odd—Turkish Taffy and Necco Wafers still packaged in familiar waxed paper wrappers. Small tables held party favors for every occasion. Shelves on either side of the hutch held gift baskets ready to be sent or delivered to local recipients.

Judy looked toward the back of the candy store, beyond the candy cases and the cash register, to the door that led to the kitchen. When no one came out, she walked deeper into the store, a veritable womb of chocolate that made her want to curl up and consume chocolates until she passed from this world into the next. She was halfway back when Ginger came out of the kitchen wearing a smile and an apron speckled with chocolate.

“I’m sorry. I was busy making some chocolate lollipops for the Book Fair. Oh, it’s Judy, right? We met that day at school.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “We did, indeed.”

“Can I get something for you?”

“No, I—I really came by to talk to you and ask a favor.”

Ginger grinned. “In that case, grab a piece of one of your favorites and come on back to the kitchen.”

When Judy hesitated, Ginger put one hand on her hip. “Tell me you don’t like chocolate.”

“I wish I could.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Chocolate-covered cherries,” she blurted, then blushed. “I really shouldn’t—”

“Of course you should,” Ginger insisted and headed to the case closest to the kitchen door. “Charlene is pretty strict about making sure I follow company policy.”

Judy followed her and watched Ginger put on a pair of disposable plastic gloves and place three large chocolate-covered cherries into a small pink bag. “Company policy?”

“When Charlene hired me to work here part-time, she told me that when she opened Sweet Stuff a few years ago, she had two goals. First, she wanted to make sure there was one place on the avenue where people could go if they were feeling lonely or sad. She wanted to make them feel a little less lonely or a little less sad, so it’s company policy. Anyone who comes into the store has to eat some chocolate—on the house. Enjoy!” She handed the pink bag of chocolates to Judy, removed the plastic gloves and tossed them into the trash.