usually have this much trouble making up her mind.
“He’s a single dad and his daughter’s at an age where she’s starting to ask those kind of questions,” she said. “He told me that he needs a competent housekeeper, as well as someone to field such questions for him.”
“And this employee of yours, you think she’s a match for this single dad?” Theresa inquired.
“Well,” Celia began cautiously, “he’s an aerospace engineer and she graduated MIT at age eighteen.”
“Wait a minute. I don’t understand,” Maizie protested, trying to make sense out of the scenario. “She graduated MIT at eighteen? No offense, Celia, but what is she doing working for you?”
Celia smiled. “I know. It sounds strange, doesn’t it?”
“Not if she’s in the witness protection program,” Maizie quipped.
“She’s not. She’s just kind of conflicted. When Becky first came to me,” Celia said, filling her two friends in, “she said she was looking for something ‘different.’ She felt burned out and she just wanted something that wasn’t mentally taxing to do, something that made her feel as if she’d accomplished something basic and simple at the end of the day.” Celia smiled. “Like cleaning a bathroom.”
“Well, that’s basic and simple, all right,” Maizie agreed.
“Anyway, my point is that I think they have a lot in common and could help one another,” Celia concluded. Again, she looked from Maizie to Theresa, waiting to get their take on the situation.
“Any red flags?” Maizie murmured.
“Not that I can see,” Celia replied honestly. She’d gone over their backgrounds a number of times before Theresa and Maizie had gotten here. “Personally, I think they’re made for each other.”
“Well, if that’s what you think, it’s good enough for me,” Maizie said. “Theresa?”
She nodded. “We’ve all gotten good at this,” she told her friends. “I trust Celia’s judgment.”
Maizie totally agreed. “And if she’s right, we’ll all get the credit,” she said with a satisfied chuckle. She put her hand on Celia’s shoulder. “Have a little faith in yourself, hon. We do.”
“All right, then,” Celia declared, getting revved up. “I’ll call Steve tomorrow and tell him that I have a housekeeper for him.”
Maizie beamed. “It’s settled, then,” she stated. Then the corners of her mouth curved even more. “You know, ladies, since we all came rushing out here and settled this so quickly, how do you feel about a game of cards?”
“You mean play cards without talking shop?” Celia asked.
“You know, it just might be unique at that,” Theresa speculated.
Playing cards had always been their excuse for getting together and brainstorming. Usually one of them would have been approached by a parent, and brought that candidate to the table to be discussed and pondered over until the right match was discovered.
“What will we talk about?” Theresa asked innocently.
Maizie laughed, shaking her head as she took out the deck of cards she always kept in her purse. “We are three intelligent women, each with a thriving business and a whole tribe of grandchildren. If we can’t find something to talk about other than the love lives of some strangers, then the world is in a very bad state,” she told them.
“Don’t forget all those successful matches we’ve managed to set up and bring together. As I recall, we’re batting a hundred,” Theresa said.
Maizie smiled at her as she began to shuffle the cards. “A thousand, dear. The correct term for that is that we’re batting a thousand.”
“But we haven’t brought together a thousand matches,” Theresa protested.
Maizie sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Never mind, dear. The point is, we’ve been exceedingly successful, and even if our streak ends today, we still have all those happy matches to point to.”
“Why should our streak end?” Theresa asked. “We’re very good at what we do. There’s no reason to think we can’t go on doing this for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re right,” Maizie agreed. “We might very well be doing this for as long as we draw breath.” She paused for a second, looking at her friends. “Okay, ladies, no more talking. Let’s play cards.”
“Right, like that’s going to work.” Theresa smirked. “If I know you, you’ll be talking until the day you’re six feet under.”
“You think that’ll stop her?” Celia asked with a laugh.
“No, you’re right,” Theresa agreed. “Probably not.”
“Play!” Maizie ordered, doing her best to keep a straight face.
“Stevi?” Steve called up the stairs to his ten-going-on-eleven-year-old daughter, as she was apt to remind him any number of times in a week. “Get a move on. You don’t want to be late for class and I don’t want to be late to work.”
The petite, dark-haired girl frowned as she came down. “Dad, I told you to call me Stephanie,” she stated, stepping into the living room. “And I also told you that I’m perfectly able to walk to school. You don’t have to risk being late to work just to take me there.”
They’d been over this ground a dozen times in the last six weeks, ever since Stevi had decided that she had outgrown practically everything. Next, she’d decide that she’d outgrown him.
“Maybe I like taking you to school,” Steve told his daughter. “Did you ever think of that?”
A tired, sympathetic look passed over her face. “Dad, I’m growing up,” she said wearily. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”
She hardly looked any older than she had six months ago, or even a year ago, but he knew she was. It was inevitable, just as she maintained.
But he didn’t have to like it.
Stifling a sigh, Steve put a hand on her shoulder and hustled his only child out the door. “Don’t be in such an all-fired hurry to grow up, Stephanie. Enjoy being a kid a little while longer.” He closed the door and locked it. “Trust me, it goes by fast.”
“I’ve been a kid, Dad,” Stephanie pointed out, sounding a great deal older than her actual years. She got into the car on the passenger side and buckled up. “And it’s not going by nearly fast enough. At least, it isn’t for me.”
Steve started up the car. He knew he was losing this argument.
“Well, it is for me,” he told her. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that we’re going
