hope so, too,” Adele said. “Just fill out this intake form...”
From that point on, Adele greeted the most interesting people. A former minister, cook, factory worker, gym teacher, many office workers and many women who had not worked since high school. There was only one caregiver in the group—she had cared for her mother for three years. There were a couple of women who admitted to being homeless.
The one thing most of them had in common was having been abandoned by men, either when they died or divorced them. Adele had not thought it so common. But it took her thirty seconds to connect the dots—they were married to the breadwinner and when he died or left, their income was gone.
A couple of female military veterans came in, not together but separately. It was the same for them—they’d been married to the army and couldn’t find civilian work. Both told Adele they were thinking of reenlisting for that reason, though they couldn’t bear the thought of going back to a war zone.
In the little time between clients, Adele organized the desk drawers and cleaned up the cupboards in the waiting room. She drank three cups of coffee and did the dishes in the small employee kitchen. When she went for her first cup of coffee, she ran into Ross.
“I hope you locked your purse in the drawer,” Ross said while stirring cream into her coffee.
“I didn’t know it could be locked.”
“The keys are in the center drawer. Lock up your purse and put the keys in your pocket. These people are desperate. I make no judgment, but why tempt fate?”
“Thank you! I’ll do that.”
It was Ross who stopped by her desk later and said, “I’m going down to the supermarket deli for a salad. Can I get you anything?”
Adele had barely noticed that the whole morning had passed. It had been a rush and there were still people waiting. Felicity, Ross and Fran had all been seeing clients continually. Adele had stolen a look at the online appointment calendar to note that the names of the women they saw had filtered into other categories—various workshops, referrals, counseling sessions and the like.
She grabbed her purse and pulled out a ten. “Any kind of salad will do, no dressing. I’m on a diet.”
“Will do,” Ross said.
When Ross was back with their lunch, she offered to sit at Adele’s desk for a while. “Go have your lunch in one of the empty conference rooms or the break room. I’ll spell you for a while.”
“What about your lunch?”
“I’ll get mine when you’re finished. Go now. I’m sure you crave a few minutes alone.”
By midafternoon, Adele felt as though she’d managed that office for years. She was comfortable talking to the clients, responding to her email, doing whatever was requested. And she liked the people. A few more counselors and volunteers came in that afternoon—Jasmine, Carol, Marie, Susan and Paulette.
The office became even busier as people gathered for a couple of workshops. They were doing interview role-playing, critiquing résumés, looking through lists of employment opportunities. A couple of times it crossed Adele’s mind that she had no idea what was coming for her. They might thank her kindly for helping out and tell her that their regular receptionist would be back in the morning. Should that be the case, she would ask if she could avail herself of the services offered in their program. Maybe they could help her get a receptionist or secretary position at Banyon Community College. After all, even though it had been a long time, she knew her way around a campus.
The women who had attended the workshops seemed so optimistic, so happy and animated. She could see that a little encouragement went a long way.
She did some typing for Felicity and Ross; she printed out a new workshop schedule that had been scrawled on a yellow pad by Jasmine. Glancing at the schedule online for the next day, she noticed several appointments, counseling sessions, new workshops and a counseling group session for women overcoming abusive relationships. There were also a couple of groups meeting in the evenings on Tuesday and Thursday, and if