back to school, and a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't know what I was going to do. How I was going to tell him. Or anybody. I put it off for a few more weeks. I didn't know what I was going to do."
"And when you did?"
"I thought I should tell him face-to-face. He hadn't been coming into the store like he used to. So I went by the college to look him up. Turned out he'd fallen in love with this girl. He was a little embarrassed to tell me, seeing as we'd been sleeping together. But it wasn't like we'd made each other any promises, or been in love or anything. We'd just liked each other, that's all. And when he talked about this other girl, he got all lit up. You could just see how crazy he was about her. So I didn't tell him about the baby."
She hesitated, then took one of the cookies Stella had arranged on a plate. "I can't resist sweets. After
I'd thought about it, I didn't see how telling him would do any of us any good."
"That was a very hard decision," Roz told her.
"I don't know that it was. I don't know what I expected him to do when I went to tell him, except I thought he had a right to know. I didn't want to marry him or anything. I wasn't even sure, back that
far, that I was going to keep the baby."
She nibbled on the cookie while she rubbed a hand gently over the mound of her belly. "I guess that's
one of the reasons I went out there, to talk to him. Not just to tell him about it, but to see what he
thought we should do. But sitting with him, listening to him go on about this girl—"
She stopped, shook her head. "I needed to decide what to do about it. All telling him would've done was made him feel bad, or resentful or scared. Mess up his life when all he'd really tried to do was help me through a bad time."
"And that left you alone," Stella pointed out.
"If I'd told him, I still would've been alone. The thing is, when I decided I'd keep the baby, I thought about telling him again, and asked some people how he was doing. He was still with that girl, and they were talking about getting married, so I think I did the right thing. Still, once I started to show, there was
a lot of gossip and questions, a lot of looks and whispers. And I thought, What we need is a fresh start. So I sold the house and just about everything in it. And here I am."
"Looking for that fresh start," Roz concluded.
"I'm looking for a job." She paused, moistened her lips. "I know how to work. I also know a lot of
people would step back from hiring a woman nearly six months along. Family, even distant, through-marriage sort of family, might be a little more obliging."
She cleared her throat when Roz said nothing. "I studied literature and business in college. I graduated with honors. I've got a solid employment record. I've got money—not a lot. My partial scholarship didn't cover everything, and my daddy was a teacher, so he didn't make much. But I've got enough to take care of myself, to pay rent, buy food, pay for this baby. I need a job, any kind of a job for now. You've got your business, you've got this house. It takes a lot of people to help run those. I'm asking for a chance to be one of them."
"Know anything about plants, about gardening?"
"We put in flower beds every year. Daddy and I split the yard work. And what I don't know, I can learn. I learn quick."
"Wouldn't you rather work in a bookstore? Hayley managed an independent bookstore back home,"
Roz told Stella.
"You don't own a bookstore," Hayley pointed out. "I'll work without pay for two weeks."
"Someone works for me, she gets paid. I'll be hiring the seasonal help in a few weeks. In the meantime... Stella, can you use her?"
"Ah ..." Was she supposed to look at that young face and bulging belly and say no? "What were your responsibilities as manager?"
"I wasn't, like, officially the manager. But that's what I did, when you come down to it. It was a small operation, so I did some of everything. Inventory, buying, customer relations, scheduling, sales, advertising. Just the bookstore end of it. There was a separate staff for the coffee shop."
"What would you say were your strengths?"
She had to take a breath, calm her nerves. She knew it was vital to be clear and concise. And just as
vital to her pride not to beg. "Customer relations, which keyed into sales. I'm good with people, and I don't mind taking the extra time you need to take to make sure they get what they want. If your customers are happy, they come back, and they buy. You take the extra steps, personalize service,
you get customer loyalty."
Stella nodded. "And your weaknesses?"
"The buying," she said without hesitation. "I'd just want to buy everything if it was up to me. I had to keep reminding myself whose money I was spending. But sometimes I didn't hear myself."
"We're in the process of reorganizing, and some expanding. I could use some help getting the new
system in place. There's still a lot of computer inputting—some of it very tedious—to deal with."
"I can handle a keyboard. PC and Mac."
"We'll go for the two weeks," Roz decided. "You'll get paid, but we'll consider the two weeks a trial balloon for all of us. If it doesn't work out, I'll do what I can to help you find another job."
"Can't say fairer than that. Thanks, Cousin Rosalind."
"Just Roz. We've got some gas out in the shed. I'll go get it, and we'll get your car up here so you can
get your things in."
"In? In here?" Shaking her head, Hayley set her cup aside. "I said I wasn't after a handout. I appreciate the job, the chance at the job. I don't expect you to put me up."
"Family, even distant-through-marriage family, is welcome here. And it'll give us all a chance to get to know each other, to see if we're going to suit"
"You live here?" Hayley asked Stella.
"Yes. And my boys—eight and six. They're upstairs asleep."
"Are we cousins?"
"No."
"I'll get the gas." Roz got to her feet and started out.
"I'll pay rent" Hayley rose as well, instinctively laying a hand on her belly. "I pay my way."
"We'll adjust your salary to compensate for it."
When she was alone with Stella, Hayley let out a long, slow bream. "I thought she'd be older. And
scarier. Though I bet she can be plenty scary when she needs to. You can't have what she has, and
keep it, grow it, without knowing how to be scary."
"You're right. I can be scary, too, when it comes to work."
"I'll remember. Ah, you're from up north?"
"Yes. Michigan."
"That's a long way. Is it just you and your boys?"
"My husband died about two and a half years ago."
"That's hard. It's hard to lose somebody you love. I guess all three of us know about that. I think it can make you hard if you don't have something, someone else to love. I've got the baby."
"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No. Baby had its back turned during the sonogram." She started to chew on her thumbnail, then tucked the thumb in her fist and lowered it. "I guess I should go out, take the gas Roz is getting."
"I'll go with you. We'll take care of it together."
* * *
In an hour they had Hayley settled in one of the guest rooms in the west wing. She knew she gawked. She knew she babbled. But she'd never seen a more beautiful room, had never expected to be in one. Much less to be able to call it her own, even temporarily.
She put away her things, running her fingers over the gleaming wood of the bureau, the armoire, the etched-glass lampshades, the carving of the headboard.
She would earn this. That was a promise she made to herself, and her child, as she indulged in a long, warm bath. She would earn the chance she'd been given and would pay Roz back in labor and in loyalty.
She was good at both.
She dried off, then rubbed oil over her belly, her breasts. She wasn't afraid of childbirth—she knew how to work hard toward a goal. But she was really hoping she could avoid stretch marks.