me.”
“By asking you to call her Stephanie,” Celia said knowingly.
“That’s part of it,” Steve admitted. “The other part—the bigger one—is that she suddenly seems to be growing up right in front of my eyes.”
“They have a habit of doing that,” Celia told him wryly. “I think it might have something to do with the daily watering,” she added, tongue in cheek.
Distressed over what was going on in his life, he barely realized she was trying to lighten the mood.
“What I’m trying to get at is that all of a sudden, Stevi’s got these questions I don’t know the answers to. I mean, I know the answers, but I just can’t—I just can’t...” He trailed off helplessly.
“I understand, Steve,” Celia told him kindly. “Your daughter’s at a crossroads in her life. It’s an admittedly delicate area and sometimes a young girl just needs to talk to another woman, no matter how close she is to her father.”
“Yes!” Steve cried, relieved that she understood what he was attempting to clumsily put into words. “I need someone who knows how to cook, who’s neat, and most of all, for Stevi—Stephanie’s sake, I need someone who is understanding and sympathetic. Someone who my daughter can turn to with all her unanswered questions and be comfortable doing it. I know it’s a lot to ask,” he confessed with a sigh. “And I don’t mean to be putting you on the spot like this. To be honest, I’ve been considering the possibility of perhaps sending Stevi to boarding school.”
“Boarding school?” Celia repeated, surprised. She couldn’t think of a worse idea. She had a feeling his daughter would wind up feeling rejected if he did that. “Have you spoken to her about it?”
“No, not yet,” he admitted. “But I thought that it might be best for her, all things considered.”
Celia wanted to tell him how bad she thought that idea was, but managed to refrain. Instead, she tactfully suggested, “Why don’t you hold off on that, Steve? Let me see if I can find someone for you who could fill that bill, before you decide to do anything rash.” Realizing that he might think she sounded judgmental, Celia softened her words by saying, “I’m assuming that you really don’t want to send Stevi away.”
“No,” Steve confessed, “I don’t. But she needs more than me right now. She’s got questions about, well—” he dropped his voice “—bras and boys and the changes her body’s going through that I can’t figure out how to address without embarrassing both of us. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Mrs. Parnell?”
“Completely,” she assured him. “Do me a favor, Steve. Hold off doing anything permanent for now. Don’t start calling any boarding schools just yet. Worst comes to worst, I’ll fill in as your housekeeper for a few days and be there for Stevi when she comes home after summer school, so you won’t have to worry about her. I’m sure we can resolve this situation to everyone’s satisfaction.”
She could almost hear the weight falling off Steve’s shoulders.
“You are a lifesaver, Mrs. Parnell,” he told her with genuine enthusiasm and gratitude.
“It’s all part of the service, Steve,” Celia replied warmly. “One way or the other, I’ll be getting back to you,” she promised, before hanging up.
The moment she terminated her call to Steve, she was back on the phone, calling first Maizie Sommers, who was the unofficial leader of their informal group, and then Theresa Manetti.
She informed both women that she needed to have an emergency meeting with them.
* * *
“Okay, we’re here,” Maizie announced, as she and Theresa walked into Celia’s house later that afternoon. Because she spent a good deal of her time driving from place to place, Maizie had swung by Theresa’s catering business and picked her up before coming to Celia’s. Theresa had been making last-minute changes to a menu for an anniversary party that she and her company were catering tomorrow afternoon. “So, what’s the big emergency?”
“I need to run something by you,” Celia told her friends.
“And you couldn’t do this on the phone?” Maizie asked. “Celia, we went over conference calls. Are you still having trouble with that?”
Celia shrugged. “I’d rather see your faces when I talk.”
“Uh-oh. Is this something we should be sitting down for?” Theresa asked, taking a seat at the dining room table.
Friends since the third grade, the three women had gone through all life’s major events together—weddings, births, deaths—and supported each other through the good times as well as the bad.
“Maybe you had better sit,” Celia said. “It’s nothing bad,” she added quickly. “But this might take me a little time to explain.”
Waiting until Maizie was settled, as well, Celia finally sat down and began talking. “You know how one of us is usually approached by either a parent or a friend to find someone for their son or their daughter, or maybe even friend, and then we all sit around this table and brainstorm, trying to find the perfect match for that person?”
Maizie studied her friend, wondering what was behind this. “You’re preaching to the choir, Celia. Where are you going with this?”
“Fair enough,” Celia agreed. “I could be clearer.”
Theresa laughed. “You think?”
“I had a friend,” Celia started. “Actually, she’s the mother of one of my employees. Anyway, she asked me to find someone for her daughter.”
“All right,” Maizie said. So far, this sounded no different than anything they normally undertook. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s not a problem exactly,” she replied. “I actually think that I came up with the perfect person for her...” Her eyes swept over her friends. “I just wanted to run this choice by the two of you before I make the introduction.”
“So run it by us,” Maizie encouraged, waiting for her to get to the heart of the matter. Celia didn’t 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
