Margaretha chuckled. “Not at all. I love the scent of fresh-baked cookies and tea, also.” Leaning closer, she added, “Occasionally, the various scent experiments from across the hall are a little hard to take.”
Laughing, she nodded. “Remember last year when Bjorn tried a new holiday potpourri and mixed juniper, apple, pumpkin, and sage? He tried to say it was for Thanksgiving, but it was horrible!”
“Oh, yes, I remember! I had some women from the church over and three of them left in a fit of sneezing!” Shrugging, she added, “But then, they get it right, and it smells wonderful!”
They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea before Margaretha finally said, “You look like you have something on your mind, sweetie.”
She leaned forward and placed her teacup back onto the table. “I had a difficult afternoon, and now have some… concerns… uh… about something… about a student.” She swept her hand through her hair, her fingers dragging through the tresses. “I honestly don’t know what to do. To do something and be wrong could be devastating to them. To do nothing could be turning a blind eye to a larger problem.”
“You work with youth all the time. What do you tell them when they come to you for advice?”
Snorting, she grinned as she looked up at Margaretha’s twinkling eyes. “I tell them that no one can make up their minds for them. That they need to weigh the pros and cons and learn to make decisions for themselves.”
“Then that is what you must do, my dear.” They sat quietly for a moment, both still sipping their tea. “I have no photographs of my parents.”
At the unexpected words, Caitlyn blinked, her attention snapping to Margaretha. A strange foreboding moved over her, wondering what was coming next while knowing something profound was moving through the room.
“The German army came through my town when I was only eight years old. We were not Jewish, but my parents had many Jewish friends. They did what they could to protect them even though it was declared against the law. But to no avail. My father was taken along with others. I never saw him again.”
Caitlyn’s breath halted, ignoring the burning in her lungs as her chest squeezed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Margaretha waved her hand, her gaze gentle as she looked at Caitlyn. “Oh, my dear… I don’t tell you this for sympathy but to impress upon you that sometimes doing the right thing isn’t always the right thing to do.”
She stood, and Caitlyn took to her feet quickly. They remained silent as they gathered their cups and plates, taking them into the kitchen where they worked side-by-side at the sink. Caitlyn’s mind whirled as they walked to the front door. Bending to wrap her arms around Margaretha, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Margaretha smiled and patted her back. “No, my child. Thank you.”
Just as she started up the stairs to her apartment, Terri and Bjorn came in through the front door. Greeting them, she felt her chest ease at their smiles.
“Oh, girl, we have to thank you for the fundraising money!” Bjorn said, his hands waving all around. “You sold everything, and even splitting the profits with the fundraiser, we came out ahead!”
“I’m glad,” she said, her spirits lifting more. “I have to confess, though, that the drug-sniffing dogs came through the parking lot today and must have caught the scent of all the potpourri—”
“Oh, phooey!” Terri cried, her eyes wide. “That always causes such problems!”
“It does? What problems?”
Bjorn’s shoulders slumped. “I was stopped at airport security. I called it profiling just because I had on a tie-dyed shirt!”
Terri nodded emphatically. “Yes! They searched everything, but all we had were candles wrapped that we were taking to his parents.”
Bjorn leaned forward as though whispering state secrets. “They also had pulled over that woman with the bread.”
Having trouble following their bouncing conversation, she tilted her head. “Bread?”
Not to be outdone, Terri jumped in. “Yes. The dogs sniffed a woman’s suitcase, and the security came rushing over. Turns out, she had baked bread… you know, like naan—”
“Oh, it was so fresh and smelled divine!” Bjorn interjected.
“What happened?”
Terri shrugged. “The security walked off with her and the bread. Who knows?” Looking down at the bag in her hand, she said, “Oh, we’ve got to go. My frozen tofu is starting to melt.”
Finally, ascending the stairs and into her apartment, Caitlyn crossed the living room to the large window overlooking the front. Griffin’s crew was packing up, placing their tools in their trucks, and calling out goodbyes to each other. Griffin stood to the side with Russ, both smiling. Looks like Griffin is taking him home.
Moving away from the window, she walked into the kitchen and stared into the refrigerator until inspiration struck. Mindlessly pulling out ingredients, she thought of how Terri and Bjorn’s scented products had caused the drug dogs to react at the airport, accepting it was just dumb luck that she’d had some of their products in her car.
But Russ’ backpack had also been in her car. Could there have been anything in there to tip off the dogs? Giving the police Russ’ name was the right thing, but staring out her window at the young man she knew was struggling to find his place in the world, she had to decide if it was the right thing to do.
24
Griffin stood in the front yard, his crew having secured their equipment. Russ stood near, waiting for a ride to his home. “You ready to go, Russ?”
Once inside the truck, Russ fiddled for a moment then drew a deep breath. Clearing his throat, he said, “I just wanted to thank you. I looked at the paycheck you gave out today. It’s… well,” he squeezed the back of his neck in a movement familiar to Griffin. “It’s more than I thought. It’s way more than I was making at the grocery store. My mom’s gonna freak.”
Griffin grinned. “It’s well-deserved. You’re starting out doing everything I ask. We’ll move you to more construction soon, and if you want, I’ll teach you more about the work I do.”
“I’d like that. Thanks.”
It only took fifteen minutes to pull up outside a small but neat house. He’d dropped Russ off several times, but instead of jumping down from the truck, Russ hesitated, looking out the window. A small woman appeared in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Um, would you like to meet my mom? I know you talked to her on the phone, but she was off today so she’s here now.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” He climbed from the truck and met Russ on the sidewalk. Looking toward the house, he saw Russ’ mom smile widely as they approached.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet my boss, Griffin Capella.”
Griffin thrust his hand out, smiling as she took it gently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Capella. I’m Karen.”
“Karen, it’s nice to meet you, as well. And please, call me Griff.”
Russ reached into his pocket and pulled out the check, thrusting it toward her. “Mom, I got paid today.”