plump Dana, who always complained that she gained three pounds every time she worked for Amber, chuckled. “Well, you know. Amber, I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity,” the college student gushed. “I have a blast when I work for you.”
Amber grunted. Seeing her food thrown around like garbage, then being arrested didn’t exactly rank in her book of top ten ways to have fun. “Different strokes for different folks, I guess.”
On the short drive to Sunshine and Rainbows After-School and After-Care Center, Amber did some deep breathing exercises, trying to center herself again. It didn’t work. But when she walked through the doors of the kids’ center, her spirit soared.
Delighted squeals and children racing each other to clamp themselves around her legs could do that to a woman.
“Well, hello there! With that kind of welcome maybe I’ll have to come here more often.”
One child, while clearly excited, hung back from the others. Amber smiled at her. “Hi, Sutton.”
The girl beamed, but didn’t say anything.
“Come on, you guys, let the Cookie Lady through.” Marnie Shepherd shooed kids away. “Why don’t you go get your mats and show the Cookie Lady how good little boys and girls greet guests?”
The kids raced off, and Amber laughed. Sutton glanced over her shoulder at Amber. She sent the little girl a three-finger wave.
“You do have a way with them,” Amber said to Marnie.
Shaking her head, Marnie smiled. “You’d think they’d never had cookies before. It’s good to see you again, Amber.”
The two women headed to the area where once a week Amber sat in a rocking chair, read a story to the kids, then passed out cookies from her basket. She took pleasure in the activity and always suspected that she got more out of it than the kids did.
“Hey, I have all but three permission slips back for next week. And,” Marnie added, pleased with herself, “there are four parent volunteers to make sure things stay under control.”
“I’m impressed,” Amber said. “But remember, we’re not really baking. The no-bake cookies are pretty easy. It’s mostly just mixing ingredients. We won’t need that much help.”
“Oh, yes, we will.”
Amber shrugged. What did she know about kids? “If you say so.”
She paused at the aquarium, mesmerized as the fish in the huge tank swam by. Watching tropical fish could be the most calming thing.
A little boy approached. “Come on, Cookie Lady. We’re all ready.”
“Well then, let’s get started.”
Amber followed her young escort to the section of the room designated with a colorful banner proclaiming it Story Corner.
Some of the children tried to put their mats in front of others to claim a seat closer to the rocker where she’d sit. Amber smiled as one of the aides got them all settled, assuring everyone that they would be able to both see and hear the story. Looking over them, Amber’s gaze fell on Sutton.
She liked Sutton. The quiet little girl with the strawberry-blond curls reminded Amber of herself at that age. All pigtails and wide eyes, Sutton never said a lot, but Amber could tell she was bright; the child’s eyes never missed a thing and she’d unselfconsciously laugh at a joke until someone noticed her, then hide her face. The girl’s older brother always hovered near, keeping her in sight like a miniature bodyguard.
Amber smiled, wryly this time, for that, too, was a familiar scene. Her own older brother had always assumed the role of champion and protector—whether she had wanted him to or not. When she’d really needed a protector, however, Kyle had been half a world away. She’d neither seen nor heard from him in about five, maybe six years, and since she remained incommunicado with her parents, who probably knew his whereabouts, there existed little chance of finding him.
As she watched the boy—she believed Jonathan was his name—bend over and tie the little girl’s shoes, Amber realized just how much she missed Kyle. Moisture filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly to dispel the tears that threatened.
“Amber?”
“Huh?” She wiped at her eyes and glanced over at Marnie.
“Are you all right?”
Amber nodded, then forced a grin. “Fit as a fiddle and feeling fine.”
After placing the cookie basket on a low table, Amber took her seat in the rocker and addressed the children. It was an effort to dispel thoughts of Kyle, but she put a real smile on her face and in her voice.
“Today, Miss Shepherd tells me that my helper will be from the five-year-old class. All the five-year-olds, raise your hands.”
About eight little arms shot up in the air.
“Oh, my. I’m the lucky one today. So who will it be?”
“Me! Me!”
Marnie stepped up with a paper bag. “Have a seat, Junior. You know the rules.”
Each time the Cookie Lady—or any special guest—paid a visit, one child got to be the helper. The special role rotated among the age groups. All the children wanted to be the helper when the Cookie Lady came. Being her assistant meant getting to wear a special apron as well as receiving an extra cookie.
Marnie shook the bag with the five-year-olds’ names in it. Then, with her eyes squeezed shut, Amber stuck her hand in the bag and pulled out a slip of paper. She read out the name written in blue crayon: “Sutton.”
The little girl’s eyes widened. Then, suddenly unsure, she scuttled back. Her brother was right there.
“It’s okay, Sutton. You get to be the helper today.”
Amber held out a hand. “I have the Cookie Lady apron for you to wear. Would you like that?”
The girl nodded.
Amber held it out. Sutton got up and put her hand in Amber’s. The two smiled at each other as they donned their aprons.
Sometimes in addition to passing out cookies, the helper turned pages in the storybook. Amber whispered something to Sutton, who nodded and whispered something back. Then Amber started reading the story.
Today’s tale came straight from the barnyard and required a lot of animal sound effects.
Paul dropped Caleb off at the police station, then continued his patrol of the town. Even though he served as chief of police, a job largely administrative in a town the size of Wayside, Paul had put himself in the patrol shift rotation after he got acclimated to the day-to-day job as chief. He wanted to get better acquainted with the Wayside community and its residents, and there was no better way to do that than work patrol. And in East Wayside, a section more prone to crime, he walked a beat, getting to know people.
Today, though, since the center was near his patrol area, he decided to swing by to see if Caleb’s cookie lady was indeed
