“Of course you do, honey,” Leanne said, patting her hand. “And we’re going to find you something.” She straightened in her chair and considered Marilee’s application. “Hmm. You don’t have a degree.”
Marilee tried to look confident. “No, I don’t. But I’m intelligent, quick to learn, and I’m a hard worker. There isn’t much I can’t do once I put my mind to it.”
“Of course you can, sugar.” Leanne shuffled through more papers. “Is there something you’re particularly interested in? Something you’re really good at?”
“I play the piano and sing. I was choir director at our church for years. But you probably already know that.” She suddenly brightened. “I bake cakes.”
Leanne looked up. “Do what?”
“Just ask me the ingredients of any cake you’ve ever heard of, and I can spout them off word for word. Red velvet, Lady Baltimore, German chocolate, you name it. I personally put together a fifty-page cookbook of my own recipes for a committee I’m on, and we sold several hundred copies.” Marilee clasped her hands in her lap. She could see that it meant nothing to Leanne.
“Too bad Mitch Johnson isn’t hiring over at the bakery,” Leanne replied.
Marilee remained thoughtful. Surely there was something she could do. “I like being around people, for what it’s worth,” she said. “Folks say I have a calming effect on those who are troubled. I’ve spent many a night sitting with the sick in hospitals and nursing homes, and I always tried to be there when someone from the congregation lost a loved one.”
“You enjoy that sort of thing?” Leanne asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“I like helping people. Perhaps I could be a nurses’ aid.”
“You’d have to take classes, and the pay is low, but it’s something to keep in mind.” She studied Marilee. “You say you don’t mind working with the bereaved?”
“Not at all. I’m used to it.”
Leanne seemed to ponder it. Finally, she reached for a file. “Well then, Marilee, I just might have something for you after all.”
THAT AFTERNOON, MARILEE WAS waiting for Winnie when she stepped off the school bus. “I need your help,” she told the girl.
Winnie adjusted the shoulder strap on her book bag. “With what?”
Marilee grinned. “Get in the car, and I’ll tell you on the way.”
“You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“I want to teach somebody a lesson, and you’re the perfect person to help me.”
“Who’s the victim?”
“Esmerelda Cunningham. You know her?”
“The Queen Bee?” Winnie gave a grunt. “I know of her—rich, stingy and mean.”
“I think she needs a refresher course in manners.”
“Then I’m your girl.”
After their admittance to Esmerelda Cunningham’s grand house, Marilee followed a staid-looking butler into the drawing room with Winnie on her heels, carrying the antique candelabra. Esmerelda was sipping tea from a dainty cup and listening to opera. She looked queenly, her dress crisp as new money and not a hair out of place on her white head.
“I was not expecting guests,” she said coolly, “but I am relieved to find my candelabra in good repair.”
“Just set it over there,” Marilee told Winnie.
The girl set the candelabra on a Duncan Phyfe table with a thump as Marilee, hands on hips, faced Esmerelda. “Yes, I brought it back once I heard you’d accused me of stealing it. I have absolutely no interest in it. I don’t know about you, but I have a life, and I’m not going to spend it polishing silver.” She hitched her chin high and sniffed. “I prefer stainless steel myself.”
Esmerelda set her cup in its saucer so hard Marilee feared it would shatter. “I beg your pardon? Do you dare come into my home and insult me after I was generous enough to donate to your cause? And who is this person with you?”
“Name’s Winnie Frye,” Winnie said. “Hey, I like your place. It’s a bit crowded for my tastes, and I shudder to think about trying to raise a toddler around all these expensive-looking eggs you got sittin’ around.”
“Those aren’t eggs,” Esmerelda said. “They are original Fabergé.” Winnie picked up one, and the woman gasped aloud. “Put that down immediately!”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Mrs. C.,” Winnie said. “I’m just curious by nature. I like touching things, you know?” She walked over to a Tiffany lamp. “Oh, now, I like this.”
“Hands off!” Esmerelda almost shouted, causing Winnie to jump and almost knock over the lamp. Esmerelda sank into her chair and mopped her forehead with a handkerchief. She looked at Marilee. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Marilee tried to hide her amusement. “Winnie was living at Blessing Home until it was declared unsafe. We’ve managed to find homes for the other girls, but we haven’t had any luck placing Winnie.” She stepped closer and whispered, “She has mood swings, and her pregnancy has made them worse. I guess you might say she’s hormonally challenged right now.” Marilee cut her eyes toward the girl.
Esmerelda looked from Marilee to Winnie before settling her gaze on Marilee once more. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d let me crash here on your sofa for a while,” Winnie said. “I’d really prefer my own bedroom, you understand, but I don’t want to put you out. I reckon I could set up a bassinet over here by this window. I want my baby to have plenty of sunlight, and this place is kinda dark, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“You must be out of your mind,” Esmerelda said to Marilee. “No wonder your husband left you.”
Marilee was surprised the remark didn’t sting as much as it had in the past. “Now, now, Mrs. Cunningham, I know you’re a person of good breeding, and you wouldn’t think of stooping to insults, so I’m just going to state my business. We need a home for Winnie, and you have the biggest house in town. Surely you wouldn’t mind having a guest around.”
“I most certainly do mind,” the woman said. “This is not a hotel.”
“It’s big enough to be a hotel,” Winnie said. “I hear this place even has an elevator and swimming pool. Would it be okay if I brought some of the brothers over for a weenie roast and pool party?”
Esmerelda stared in horror. She turned to Marilee. “Don’t think for one minute I don’t know what’s going on here. You’re simply trying to embarrass me for making a fuss over the candelabra. Well, it won’t work. I did my duty by donating it to your charity, it’s not my fault you weren’t there to hand it over at the drawing. I can only hope you’ve come to your senses and will see that it is delivered safely to the woman who won it.”
“I don’t want your dumb old candelabra,” Marilee said. “We’ll find another prize.”
“What do you mean, you don’t want it? Do you have any idea what it’s worth?”
“I know what it’s not worth, Mrs. Cunningham. It’s not worth being called a thief.” Esmerelda looked away. “But that’s not why I’m here. Winnie needs a place to stay,” she repeated.
“Is this a sleeper sofa?” Winnie asked. “I’d hate to sleep on this expensive fabric, what with my bladder problem.”
Esmerelda