had only just occurred to Scott that Justine might not always bring home that fat check he’d always enjoyed. And what would he do? He must not have a plan. And he didn’t know what it felt like to have the pressure of earning fall to his shoulders.
* * *
Adele loved her job every day, even on the days that a client’s story made her want to cry. In fact, sometimes on those days she loved it even more because she watched in fascination as the team of social workers somehow closed ranks against a challenge and found a solution. Sometimes it seemed they just kept paddling along until they ran into a solution.
Something similar seemed to have happened in Adele’s home.
“Over summer the most surprising dynamic shifted,” Adele told Ross. “Of course you knew about Justine staying with me so she can work in Half Moon Bay, but then her girls started sleeping over and for the first time ever, we were a family. It was like Scott’s leaving was almost a good thing. Well, probably not for Justine, but it worked out pretty well for me having more time with my sister and nieces. Then as summer progressed, the girls started spending more time on the beach with local kids. Now they don’t like going home so much. They only live in the San Jose house when they have to because it’s Scott’s custody night, and that’s not going so well, which means they’re at my house more often than not.”
“What’s not going well?” Ross asked.
“He makes a lot of excuses to get home late and leave early, so the girls end up sitting home alone rather than having fun or spending time with their father. He claims it’s work, but they already know the kayak shack isn’t open late. They know it’s more about the woman in his life, and it’s not something they take quietly. Justine doesn’t go back to San Jose as often as she did last spring.” Addie sighed. “More and more of their stuff is taking residence in my house.” Then she smiled. “Our house. It’s still half Justine’s, of course.”
“I take it you’re feeling pretty good about these changes?” Ross asked.
“I’ve been feeling better about a lot of things, and it started with getting this job. I wanted to tell you something. I’m going up to Berkeley to talk with a career adviser. I was over a year into my graduate program, and now I want to change direction. Depending on how many of my credits are transferable and whether I can change grad programs, I think I’d like a degree in counseling.”
“Is that right?” Ross asked with a smile.
“You smile so much more often these days,” Adele said. “When I first met you...” She couldn’t finish. She was afraid she’d already said too much.
“I know,” Ross said. “I’m not cranky. I’m serious, that’s all. There is a difference, but not many people bother to look at the differences.”
“It’s true,” Addie said. “You’ve never been what I’d call angry.”
“Oh, I used to be pretty angry,” she admitted. “Life was hard. I had a terrible husband, a bunch of kids, trouble making money, no one to help, nowhere to turn.”
“And you turned here?” Addie asked.
Ross shook her head. “Not exactly. There were other people along the way who served a similar purpose. My church, my neighborhood, a couple of women in the same boat who I went to school with. But I eventually ended up here, a brand-new social worker when this program was just starting. It didn’t pay well but it got me by. Then I became invested in the program and the people.”
“I think I’m already invested in the program even though I don’t do anything to help.”
“Now don’t you be saying that. You’re the first face most of them see. You’re the first person they talk to. It’s your expression and your encouragement that gets them going, gives them hope. Your position is a very important one. It’s not an easy one to fill. I want you to make the most of your opportunities, but I sure hope we don’t have to replace you too soon. You’d be tough to replace.”