“I’m very serious,” Flynn answered. “I’ll work the first week for free. If we get along and you think I’m learning the job, then you can start paying me the second week. That sound fair?”
“More than fair,” Jackson answered. “You sure you want to start tomorrow afternoon?”
“Sounds good to me.” Flynn nodded.
“That’s not fair,” April said. “I’m the one who needs a job, and I bet I could learn just as fast as Flynn can.”
Nessa slathered a hot roll with butter and wished that she could throw in her name for the job. But that would never work. She got hot flashes just sitting close to the guy. Working right beside him in a small workshop was out of the question.
“You said you like animals, right?” Jackson smiled across the table.
“Love them. Animals and flowers never break your heart,” April said.
“Our vet is an older lady, and she also has an animal shelter right beside her small-animal clinic. When I was in there last week, she mentioned that she’d like to hire part-time help. It’s getting harder and harder to get enough volunteer help for the shelter, and she can’t keep up with the small-animal practice and run the shelter, too,” Jackson said. “She said what she needs is someone who’s willing to go back and forth from clinic to shelter as she needs them. I can call her in the morning and put in a word for you if you really need to work, but again, this is only part-time.”
“I only have time for part-time since we have to finish the quilt.” April’s tone was full of excitement.
“I’ll give Maudie a call first thing in the morning,” Jackson said. “The animal clinic is right off the highway on the east side of Paris.”
April groaned.
“I told you that you can use my car, or I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t drive Nanny Lucy’s car. Like the house, it belongs to all of us,” Nessa reminded her, hoping that she would get the job. That would leave her with a quiet house in the afternoons to work on her quilt tops. Nanny Lucy said it was all right to make the tops on the sewing machine, but she wouldn’t have one of those big quilting machines in her shed. Oh, no! In her opinion, a real quilt had to be hand-stitched.
“Are you sure?” April asked.
“If she isn’t, I am,” Flynn said. “I can walk over to Jackson’s place. I won’t need the truck during the afternoons.”
“Thank you, Flynn, for the offer, but I can drive Nanny Lucy’s car. I had forgotten all about it. I sure hope she hasn’t filled the spot,” April said. “And I can’t believe that even the possibility of something like this just fell into my lap. Thank you, Jackson.”
He shrugged. “No problem. Maudie can use the help, and so can I.”
Nessa had no reason to be jealous about a woman she’d never met and a neighbor she’d only been around a handful of times, but she was.
“What’s her last name?” Nessa asked.
“West,” Jackson answered, “but everyone just calls her Maudie or Doc.”
“I don’t remember Nanny Lucy ever mentioning her,” April said.
“She moved here from out in West Texas when she retired about ten years ago. Her sister and mother were living in Paris back then, and when they passed, she got bored and opened up a small-animal clinic, but the place was previously set up for horses and cows as well, so she turned that part into a shelter,” Jackson explained. “She said that people kept dropping strays at her door, and she had to do something with them. When I took Tex and Waylon in for their shots, there were balloons and flowers in her office. She had turned eighty that day. I don’t know how she’s doing everything with only volunteer help from Stella and Vivien one day a week.”
“That’s amazing,” Flynn said.
“Yep,” Jackson answered. “As active as she is, she’ll probably live to be a hundred.”
Nessa felt a little guilty about being jealous, and mildly embarrassed about the relief that had washed over her when she found out that Maudie was eighty. “I want to grow up and be like her and Nanny Lucy. I want to work right up until I drop dead.”
April shivered. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s the truth, and it’s also time to take the pie out of the oven.” Nessa pushed back her chair, got a couple of hot pads from the cabinet drawer, and carefully removed the pie.
“That smells so good.” Jackson smiled at her.
“We’ll have it warm with your choice of cheese melted on top or a scoop of ice cream.” Nessa’s heart threw in an extra beat, and her skin got all warm.
It’s just a smile, she scolded herself, and you are not in high school, so act your age.
Chapter Eleven
April drove five miles under the speed limit and was still ten minutes early to her interview that morning at the Honey Hill Vet Clinic. When she had parked in front of the low redbrick building, her sweaty palms clamped the steering wheel of Nanny Lucy’s little compact car in a death grip. Even after it had been sitting out beside the house with a cover over it for six months, the smell of roses lingered in the vehicle. She could almost visualize Nanny Lucy sitting beside her with a disapproving look on her face.
You’re all excited about a job taking care of dogs and cats? Flynn has worked his way up to an office in some fancy oil business. Nessa is a schoolteacher. Her grandmother’s voice rang loud and clear.
“You told me that if I like a job and do it well, then I’m a success,” April muttered. “You liked quilting and cutting out pieces, and you were very successful.”
I didn’t have the chance to make something better of myself like you did, the voice in her head argued.
April shook it off, and with a racing heart, she turned off the engine and slowly opened the car door. She didn’t just want this job. She needed it. Sure, she still had money left from what the lawyer had given her, but it wouldn’t last forever.
She put her boots on the ground, and doubts flooded over her.
Should I have dressed up more? she worried as she smoothed the front of her shirt and sent up a silent prayer. She wouldn’t vow to be in church every time the doors opened like Nanny Lucy had done during the tornado, but she did tell God that she would be forever grateful if He could help her turn her life around.
She crossed the parking lot and reached for the doorknob, but before she could touch it, the door swung open and a short gray-haired lady motioned her inside. “You must be April. I’m Maude West, but my friends and neighbors all call me Maudie.” She stuck out her hand.
For a woman who just came up to April’s shoulder, she had a firm handshake. Her bright smile reached her crystal-clear blue eyes.
“I’m pleased to meet you. I didn’t bring a résumé. Jackson didn’t think I would need one. I’ve worked at many jobs, but never in a place like this.” April dropped Maudie’s hand. Was that the right thing to say?
Should she have just let Maudie ask the questions and not volunteered any information until she was asked? Did saying that she had worked at many jobs make it sound like she’d been fired?
Questions raced through her mind so fast that they made her dizzy.