still there, and she’s as involved with the Welleswood Historical Society as ever.” Doris paused. “After my husband, Francis, died, I wanted a change. We’d lived in Barnegat for over forty years, and everywhere I went, I ran into memories. When I finally decided to sell our home last spring, I accepted Betty’s offer to live with her. I was looking forward to having her company and living somewhere new. Frankly, she’s gone from home so much, I’ve gotten a little lonely and a whole lot bored.”
She smiled. “Helping you at the agency is a real answer to my prayers, but I don’t want you to feel obligated in any way. Madge can be rather persuasive, but she’s also a bit impulsive. If you’d rather advertise for an agent to help you run your office while you recuperate, I understand, though I’m going to be completely honest and tell you I want the position very much.”
Andrea smiled. “You’re hired, but I have to be completely honest with you, too. The position is very short-term.” She paused, debated with herself whether or not to tell Doris about her upcoming chemo treatments, then decided to keep that news in the family for now. “Once I’m on my feet again—”
“I understand completely. I’m not even sure I want something long-term. Not at this stage of my life.”
“I don’t blame you. As a matter of fact, I’ve always worked alone. I’ve never had an employee before,” Andrea admitted.
“I’ll stay and work for as long or as short as you need me.”
Chuckling, Andrea shook her head. “It can’t be this easy.”
Doris smiled and shook her head. “I was thinking the same thing. I only left my message yesterday. I was hoping you’d call back, but to actually be hired within a day…”
Andrea cocked her head. “Have you got any other plans for today?”
“No, I kept the day open.”
“Good. Let’s go into the office together. I’m sure there are messages waiting. You can get familiar with the setup, though we’ll have to rearrange things a bit now that the two of us will be sharing the workspace. We’ll need to stop by Jenny’s on the way. Somehow she wound up with my briefcase, and I need to check my calendar to see about the appointments I had for today. We should be able to catch the clients before they leave. They have a wedding today.”
She pointed at the portfolio in Doris’s hands. “Bring that along, too.”
Doris stored the portfolio in her briefcase before she stood up. “Unless you have something here we can take so you can keep that foot elevated, we’ll need to stop at Betty’s, too. She’s got an old needlepoint footrest you can use.”
No argument from Doris about Andrea going to the office instead of resting at home.
No debate from Doris over the terms or length of her employment.
Only support and concern.
When He answered prayer, He could be…amazing.
Andrea could not wait to see what He had planned for the rest of the day.
By half-past noon, Andrea had a signed employment contract stored in the new folder with Doris’s name on it, along with a full copy of the portfolio and notes of conversations she had had with two of the references Doris had provided. Andrea had her foot elevated on an antique needlepoint footrest that was very old and exquisite, and she was actually quite comfortable sitting in one of the wing chairs in her office. Doris had just finished a virtual online tour of the agency’s listings after familiarizing herself with the office equipment.
“You can use my password online until you join the Tilton County Board of Realtors,” Andrea told her, “and you should see Tim Fallon on Monday to order business cards. He can take your photo, too, and use the template he made for my business cards. I’ll call him first thing to let him know you’re coming and tell him to charge it to my account as well.”
“You’re not obligated to do that,” Doris protested.
Andrea hesitated. “That may be, but it’s how we’re going to do it. Normally agents aren’t hired for a few weeks, either. Have you got a cell phone?”
Doris rolled her eyes. “A necessary evil in this business. I hate cell phones, and I love them. Yes, I’ve got one.”
“Good. You can pay for that.” Andrea glanced around the front office and sighed. “What we really need is a pair of strong arms to help rearrange the furniture. If we add one of the tables from one of the conference rooms, we can set up the work area to accommodate both of us.”
Literally, before her words could fade to an echo, her front door opened and Jamie Martin stepped inside. Through the picture window, she could see his father, Shawn, watching from across the street, but she directed her attention to the young man who approached her.
He walked with stiff determination and stopped a few feet away from her. All arms and legs, he topped six feet already. He had his mother’s dark hair and his father’s pale blue eyes—eyes that shimmered with remorse. “I came to apologize, Mrs. Hooper. I’m really, really sorry about running into you yesterday.” He glanced down at her foot and his cheeks flamed. “Is it broken?”
She drew in a deep breath. Here she was, feeling as bruised and battered as if she had been hit by a truck, and he apparently did not have more than a little scrape on his chin. But he wasn’t a truck. He wasn’t even an adult. He was just a kid. A good kid.
As much as she wanted to lash out at him and hurl every well-deserved criticism she could fathom, she did not have the heart. He looked scared. He looked penitent. He looked genuinely concerned about her well-being. “It’s a bad sprain, but the doctor said I might be better off if I had broken it. Apparently, it’s going to take a while to heal.”
Jamie swallowed so hard, Andrea could see his Adam’s apple move up and down. “I sprained my ankle once. Hurt like anything.”
Andrea caught a glimpse of Doris, quietly slipping behind Jamie and out the front door. “Skateboarding?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I mean, yes.” He stared at the floor for a moment. When he looked up, his eyes were clear. He straightened his shoulders. “I won’t be skateboarding for a while.”
She cocked one brow. “You’ve been grounded,” she murmured, and wondered if he would notice the pun.
His eyes twinkled. “Yes, ma’am. For the rest of the summer, at least. Mom and Dad said they’d decide then when I could get my skateboard back. It all depends…”
“Depends on what?”
“How I spend my summer. They left it up to me. I thought about it all night and talked it over with them at breakfast. They agreed with my idea. Dad wanted to come with me.” He nodded toward the window. “I asked him to wait for me across the street.”
Curious and impressed that he had apparently not been forced to come to apologize in person, Andrea nevertheless remained silent.
“Anyway, here’s my idea,” Jamie went on. “Instead of working at the school like I’ve been doing, painting and cleaning gum off the desks and stuff, I’d like to work for you. As a volunteer,” he added quickly.
