Feels Like Family

“Of course I can,” Karen replied at once. “It’s not as if she has a huge staff to take up the slack. In fact, it’s almost too much for us when we’re all there. I’ve been trying to find another sitter for the kids, but do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone willing to take care of two sick kids under five during the hours I need to work? It’s almost impossible. And day-care programs don’t run late enough and wouldn’t have taken them when they were sick, anyway.”

Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “Until all this happened, I was a good employee. You can ask Dana Sue or Erik how hard I worked. I love working at Sullivan’s. Dana Sue gave me a fabulous opportunity when she hired me away from the diner, and I hate that I’m blowing it.”

“You haven’t blown it yet,” Helen consoled her. “I know Dana Sue thinks the world of you. But you’re right. She needs staff who’re reliable.”

“I know that,” Karen said miserably. “And she deserves it, too. I guess I’m just feeling completely overwhelmed right now. Is there anything you can do to help? How should I handle this?”

Helen considered the situation. Though employment issues were not her area of expertise, she was fairly certain Dana Sue could legally fire an employee whose absenteeism was intolerable, especially if there’d been repeated warnings about the absences. At the same time, she also knew that her friend would never kick someone when they were down. Sullivan’s was a huge success in part because Dana Sue had always thought of the relatively small staff there as a family. It was one of the reasons she’d been reluctant to expand.

“Why don’t we sit down with Dana Sue and see if we can’t brainstorm some solutions?” Helen suggested. “Dana Sue is a compassionate person. I’m sure she’s no happier about the prospect of firing you than you are. In addition, I know she’s invested a lot of time in training you to become her sous-chef eventually. Compared to the man who had the job when she first opened, you’ve fit in perfectly. I also know you’ve taken a lot of initiative in creating new recipes for Sullivan’s. And you were there when she had a family crisis of her own. Maybe I can mediate some kind of compromise to buy you time to pull things in your life together.”

“That would be incredible,” Karen said.

“Unfortunately, it only solves part of the problem, not the part about finding a reliable sitter,” Helen reminded her. “But between Dana Sue and me, we know a lot of people. I’m sure there’s someone out there who has time on her hands and would be thrilled to be needed.”

Hope sparked in Karen’s eyes, but faded quickly. Clearly she was someone who’d come to accept defeat as the norm.

“I’m so sorry if I’m putting you in an awkward position,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Helen returned. “If it were a matter of you wanting to sue Sullivan’s for wrongful dismissal, I wouldn’t be able to help you because of my close ties with Dana Sue. This is just three reasonable women sitting down for a little heart-to-heart. I think being straightforward and honest with Dana Sue is the only option here.”

Karen gave her a worried look. “I have no idea what your fee is, but I promise you I will pay you as soon as I possibly can. You can check my credit. As tough as things have been since my husband left, I’ve worked really hard to pay my bills on time. I got behind one month on the rent and the landlord went ballistic, even though he got his money a week after the due date. He’s just waiting for me to slip up again so he can kick us out and charge more rent to the next person.”

“Let’s not worry about any fee right now,” Helen said. “As I said, we’re going to look at this as an informal chat among friends, okay?”

Tears welled up in Karen’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She swiped at them impatiently. “I don’t know how to thank you, Ms. Decatur. I really don’t.”

“First, call me Helen. And before you thank me, let’s wait and see if we come up with some way to make this a win-win situation for everyone, okay?”

Helen didn’t think there was going to be any problem once Dana Sue understood the whole story. Sullivan’s was successful enough that she could afford to hire someone else part-time, if need be, to fill in when Karen had another of the inevitable family crises that came with having kids. If worse came to worst, Helen herself could step in to help out. She’d done it before when Dana Sue had a crisis that took her away from the restaurant.

Helen had discovered that working with Erik was actually fun. He was probably the only male on the planet who wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her. She’d found that to be both refreshing and frustrating.

In addition, she’d found chopping and dicing to his very precise expectations oddly soothing. After a tough day in court, it had relieved some of her stress to envision a particularly thorny witness or cantankerous judge on the chopping block as she worked. After today, taking a knife to an imaginary Judge Rockingham, Jimmy Bob or Brad Holliday would have been particularly soothing.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Helen asked Karen.

“Assuming my sitter shows up, I go in at ten to prep for lunch, then stay ’til seven so the early part of the dinner rush is covered.”

Helen nodded. “I’ll check Dana Sue’s schedule to see when she’ll be there and get back to you, okay? We’re going to work this out, Karen. I promise you.”

If she had to be a volunteer substitute in Sullivan’s kitchen on a regular basis for a while, she would do everything she could to save Karen’s job. Maybe she could even do something about that deadbeat husband of hers, though Karen hadn’t asked for her help with that. She’d happily do the work pro bono.

Karen left Helen’s office feeling a lot better than she had when she’d called out of sheer desperation to make the appointment. She knew enough about the attorney to know she worked hard for her clients—worked hard at everything she did, for that matter. If ever Karen had met a type-A personality, Helen was it. She made Dana Sue’s perfectionism in the kitchen at Sullivan’s seem like a cute little eccentricity.

When Karen got back to her two-bedroom apartment in a charmless rectangular building, she knocked on her neighbor’s door. Frances Wingate, who had to be over eighty but wouldn’t admit to it, had agreed to keep the kids for a couple of hours, which was about all she could manage with rambunctious, five-year-old Daisy and three-year-old Mack. Two hours were about as long as Daisy was content to make pictures with her crayons or read her books, and twice as long as Mack usually stayed down for his nap. Even as Karen waited for Frances to answer her knock, she could hear Mack crying.

“You big baby, look what you did to my picture!” Daisy yelled just as Frances opened the door.

Karen regarded her apologetically. “I am so sorry I took so long.”

Frances didn’t look nearly as frazzled as Karen had expected. “Oh, don’t mind them. This just started. Mack woke up a minute ago and made a beeline for the table where Daisy was coloring. He tore her favorite picture, the one she’d colored for you. I was just about to get both of them some cookies and milk—that should settle them down. Why don’t you come in and have some, too? They’re chocolate chip. I baked them this morning.”

“Are you sure you can stand this commotion another second?” Karen asked worriedly. “You must be ready for some peace and quiet.”

Frances gave her a wry look. “At my age peace and quiet aren’t the boon you’d think. I like having the kids around. They remind me of mine, though I hate to tell you how long ago it was when they were as young as Daisy and Mack. I have great-grandchildren older than these two.” She drew Karen inside. “Now, you sit down and get off your feet. I’ll get the kids settled and then you and I can chat.”

When Karen had asked Frances if she’d mind watching the kids, she’d said only that she needed to talk to someone about some problems at work. The older woman hadn’t hesitated. “Of course,” she said. “You go do whatever you need to do.”

Now, while Frances bustled off toward the small kitchen, Karen stepped into the dining room where the kids were still engaged in a noisy dispute over the destroyed picture. The instant Daisy spotted her, she ran to Karen and lifted her arms to be picked up.

“Mommy, Mack tore my present for you,” Daisy said with an indignant huff, her big blue eyes shimmering with tears.

Though Daisy was getting much too heavy for Karen to hold for long, she cradled her precious little girl in her arms. “Sweetie, he’s only three. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt the picture.”

“But it’s ruined,” Daisy wailed.

“I bet you can draw me another one that’s even more beautiful,” Karen suggested. “You’re very good at drawing pictures.”

Even as she spoke, Mack latched on to her leg, shoulders heaving with great hiccuping sobs. “Mommy!” he wailed. “Up!”

Karen felt the start of a pounding headache. Torn between her two distraught children, she managed to sit down at the table while still holding Daisy. Settling her on one knee, she hauled Mack into her lap. Daisy immediately struggled to get down, clearly feeling betrayed by the shift in attention to her little brother.

“Not just yet,” Karen told her firmly. “Let’s talk about this.”

“He’s a baby,” Daisy said sullenly. “He never listens.”

“And isn’t that the point?” Karen asked. “If he’s too little to understand that something is important to you, then you need to be the big sister and keep important things where he can’t get at them. Can you try to do that?”

“I guess,” Daisy said, sounding resigned.

“Thank you,” Karen told her solemnly.

“Who’s ready for cookies and milk?” Frances called cheerfully.

Both kids immediately abandoned Karen, scrambling down and heading toward the kitchen, the disagreement forgotten. Frances’s cookies were always a huge hit with her kids, who preferred them to the fancier desserts Karen sometimes brought home from Sullivan’s.

“Why don’t we make it like a picnic?” Frances suggested. “I’ll put a big tablecloth on the floor in front of the TV and you can have your cookies and milk in there.”

“I love picnics!” Daisy said enthusiastically.

“Me, too,” Frances confided. “And you know the best part of having it indoors?”

“What?” Daisy asked.

“No ants.”

Daisy giggled.