“A bother?” Margaret replied. “Why, you couldn’t be a bother even if you tried. With Albert gone, you’re the brightest spot in my day.”
After chatting for a few minutes longer, Josie said she would be there with some homemade oatmeal cookies in about 20 minutes.
When she hung up the telephone, Margaret began mulling over what Josie had said about having Tuesdays and Thursdays free. For as long as she’d known Josie, the woman had worked five days a week and sometimes six. Two weeks after her twin girls were born, she’d returned to work. She wasn’t crazy about scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets; her family needed the money. With three kids and a one-legged husband, the job of breadwinner had fallen on Josie.
As she sat there drumming her fingers on the table, a thought began to take shape. Josie’s situation wasn’t all that different from her mama’s. Both women had borne the same burden of responsibility. Margaret could still picture the tears in her mama’s eyes the day Aunt Rose came to take her.
“It’s for the best,” Mama said. “Aunt Rose will give you all the things I can’t.”
That part was true, but Margaret found no happiness in it. It was wrong, terribly wrong for life to be so unfair.
IF YOU NEVER TRY, YOU WILL NEVER SUCCEED.
She’d been unable to change her mama’s circumstances, but there was something she could, and would, do for Josie.
That afternoon as they sat at the table with their pimento cheese sandwiches, Margaret asked if Josie was planning to take on another client for Tuesdays and Thursdays.
“Afraid so,” she replied. “The family that bought the Portland house has four little ones, so I figured I’d stop there on the way home.”
“So you haven’t spoken to them yet?”
“I haven’t had the chance.”
“Good. I need extra help, and now that you’re available…”
Josie tilted her head, a suspicious frown tugging her mouth downward. “You need help with what? Nothing here needs doing.”
“It most certainly does. Why, I can’t even remember the last time that silver tea service was polished, and it’s been ages since I’ve done anything with those back bedrooms.”
“That’s a lot of hogwash, and you know it. There ain’t a speck of tarnish on that tea pot, and we freshened up those guest rooms just this spring.”
Sensing that her original plan was not working, Margaret switched strategies.
“The truth is I need a companion. Someone to see that I eat properly and—”
Josie laughed out loud. “Now that’s an even bigger bunch of hogwash! You need somebody to take care of you like I need another mouth to feed. What in heaven’s name are you up to?”
Margaret tried to remain straight-faced, but a smile broke free. “Okay, the truth is you could use a break, and I could use some company. An arrangement like this works for both of us. I’ll pay you the same as the Portlands, and the work will be a whole lot easier.”
Josie turned away, looking off into the distance. When she turned back, her dark eyes were misty.
“It’s a real sweet offer,” she said, “but I can’t take it.”
“Why not?”
“With no real work to do, it’d be like charity.”
“It most certainly is not. It’s a kindness that I never got to do for my mama.”
“Doing for your mama is different; that’s family.”
“Family’s not just blood relatives,” Margaret countered, “it’s anybody you care about. Would you deny a woman with no other family the small pleasure of doing something nice for somebody she cares about?”
Josie chuckled. “You may not have a family, but the good Lord sure enough gifted you with a lofty way of thinking.”
“Are you saying you’ll do it?”
“I’m saying I’ll give it a try. All things considered, I suppose that tea service does look like it could use a good shine.”
Margaret laughed, and they settled back with a fresh pot of coffee and the oatmeal cookies Josie brought. They were both on their second cup when the doorbell rang. Claiming this was part of her expanded duties, Josie hurried to answer it. A minute later she was back.
“There’s a Mr. Tom Bateman asking to see you. Do you want to—”
Before she finished the sentence, Margaret was on her way to the door.
Tom Bateman was waiting in the foyer. He was tall, broad shouldered, and carried a bit of extra padding around his waist. He wore a tweed sports jacket, and his shirt was open at the collar. Unlike what Margaret had pictured, he was extremely good looking and seemed to