The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,64

of taking Courtney to the dance. His mom had insisted he keep his word. But a little seed of doubt had been planted in Hannah’s mind and heart.

With a last glance in the mirror, and then a wish that she hadn’t, Hannah hoisted her backpack strap higher on her shoulder and left the rest room.

Merry straightened the notepad on her desk blotter and laid her pen across it at a perfect forty-five-degree angle. She took a moment to admire the pristine top of the desk.

A few weeks ago, when she’d started work full time, the desktop had looked nothing like this. Then, piles of paper, stacks of legal folders, random law books and legal journals had been shoved, crammed, and piled on the desk. Mitzi, Jeff’s assistant, was a very capable paralegal, but organization wasn’t her strong suit, so Merry had taken over the job of office management. She’d filed until her eyes were almost crossed, shelved and cataloged the heavy books and multitude of law review magazines. She’d answered the phone, typed correspondence, made endless copies of endless documents. She’d even had time to sneak in a little reading for the Knit Lit Society. By all rights, she should be exhausted. And grumpy. After all, she’d never wanted this job in the first place and was only doing it because Jeff was so desperate.

But somewhere in the last few weeks, once she’d gotten more accustomed to the wrenching pain of leaving Hunter at day care each day, she had come to enjoy what she was doing. Family management and office management weren’t such different creatures. Plus, at Jeff’s law office, no one was likely to throw a sippy cup at her and scream “Juice!” at the top of his lungs.

Merry chuckled. She’d been out of the grown-up world for so long that she’d forgotten what it felt like. Satisfying work was a self-esteem boost, she had to admit. At home, she knew she was a good, if imperfect, mother, but any validation of her efforts was mostly indirect. A blissfully napping baby who’d been fed, changed, and rocked into dreamland. A teenager who muttered a thank-you as she stalked off to her room with a new outfit Merry had ordered online only to be told it was the wrong color. Her son Jake’s rambunctious hugs when she made his favorite dinner of Sloppy Joes. Or Sarah’s pleasure in a new box of crayons for the first day of kindergarten. At home, feedback usually came tinged with criticism or a lead-up to a request for something else. But in Jeff’s office… Well, the phrase “night and day” sprang to mind.

“Merry?” Jeff’s voice pulled her away from her admiration of her desktop.

“Yes?” She looked up and found him perched on the side of her desk.

“You were off in your own little world.” He smiled. “Plotting my overthrow?” He looked around the office. “It’s a good thing you don’t have a law degree or I’d be out of a job.”

“Thanks.” Even after four kids and years of marriage, his compliment pleased her immensely because she knew Jeff’s good opinion wasn’t given lightly. “Did you need me for something?”

He slid several folders onto the desk. “Can you type these up for me?”

When it came to using a keyboard, Jeff had ten thumbs, so he still wrote most things by hand, sometimes printing off a template, then scratching words out and inserting others. Because she knew how his mind worked, she didn’t find it difficult to make sense of his method.

“Will do.”

Jeff laughed. “I think I’ve created a monster.”

“No, just a brilliant office manager.”

He paused, his smile softened, and then his expression grew more serious. “I know it’s not easy. You have even more on your plate than before. Promise me you’ll say something if it gets to be too much.”

Merry nodded. “I will. But really, I’m okay. One of the other working moms from the church gave me a really good piece of advice.”

“What’s that?”

“When in doubt, lower your standards.”

She laughed along with Jeff, because for years she had been the one who’d insisted that cloth napkins must be used at all times, that the ornaments on the Christmas tree had to be arranged just so, that children could never be seen wearing jeans to church. In the last few weeks, she really had lowered her standards, and to her surprise it felt pretty good. Her schedule was hectic, but in some ways she was more relaxed, as if by giving herself permission