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“Aw, thanks.”
“No, I mean it. The guy who lives at the end of this townhouse community is the biggest grouch. He barely even waves to me from his car, and I rarely see him outside.”
“Hmm,” Hannah said more to herself. She hadn’t ever noticed the man. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for him.”
“If anyone can butter him up, it’s you. Now, you better go shower. You’ve got paint everywhere.”
“Right? I had a blast painting all those cute faces.”
“Call me if you have time for a walk later tomorrow. I have it off.”
“Will do.”
Hannah turned and glanced at her car. Her paints could stay where they were. It had been months since she had pulled them out, and she was sure she could incorporate them into a PE class. Mrs. Ann, the art teacher at one of the schools where she worked, would probably be thrilled she was incorporating art into her lessons.
Hannah had heard her pet bird before she’d even exited the car. Her blue parakeet squawked at her from the moment she opened the front door until the moment she filled the food tin with seeds.
“All right, Tweety, hold your horses,” she said, taking the little blue parakeet from her fingers and transferring her to the tin’s edge. “Eat some dinner.”
She laid her keys on the counter and winced as she looked around. The house was a mess, as it usually was when she was in a hurry. When was she ever not in a hurry? Pancake batter was all over the counter, and the jam mess she’d made the previous week still decorated the counters and floors. But for now, she needed a shower and then macarons. If she had time between baking and applying for the new job, she’d clean.
After a quick scrub in the shower, she headed to the kitchen in a long T-shirt that reached to her knees. After she turned on her computer, she gathered ingredients and whistled as she threw everything together. She’d made macarons so many times that she no longer needed a recipe. In fact, when she didn’t use one, her treats always turned out better. She made a double batch with plans to bring the extras to Christina and her mom and Mr. Jensen, who’d just had foot surgery.
macarons made everything better.
While the cookies baked, she filled out the office assistant application, making sure to list her many references. Since high school, she had never held a job longer than a few years. Not because she didn’t love it, but because she loved trying new things. A full-time job would take too much of her time, and there were so many things yet to try. During the Christmas season, she’d waitressed at a local diner, and before that, she’d made candles at a factory downtown. Life was full of experiences, and she was bound and determined to have as many as she could.
Just as the timer dinged on the stove, she submitted her application. “All right, I’m on a roll.” She put her goodies on the counter to cool and then set another timer to clean.
Hannah lived in an organized mess and rarely deep cleaned her house. But every night, she set a timer on her phone and attacked her messes for ten minutes. She didn’t do things habitually very often, but the timer was a necessary evil, especially with a messy bird who loved to pick up random things in her house and move them around. In her ten minutes, she washed all the baking bowls she’d used in the last few days, straightened the front room, and gathered a load of laundry and started it. The jam was still there, there were plenty of other unwashed dishes, and cleaned clothes lay in baskets, waiting to be put away. But those things would have to wait. She yawned and headed to her room.
The next day was Friday, and since no subbing jobs had come in, she only had to do her newspaper route—the job she’d held the longest—and then the rest of the day would be hers. There were lesson plans to write, clothes to put away, and cookies to deliver, but first... sleep.
3
Jason
Jason couldn’t work fast enough the next morning. Since being in interviews had stalled his tasks, he was already behind, and then he had taken a half day to go home and clean himself. The encounter with the paint-woman had exhausted him, and he’d even tucked in early after straightening his house.
But, oh, did he regret not sticking around the office. Rueben still had one more round of interviews to do, but had graciously left him alone to catch up on paperwork and correspondence.
It was two o’clock before Jason even got to his rounds. Just as he headed to the first receptionist, Brandy stopped him. She leaned in as close as he allowed and lowered her voice. “I need you at my station. There is a couple that came in a month ago, and they weren’t happy with their visit. They have their bill, but they refuse to pay.”
He glanced over to see a woman standing at the counter, arms crossed, lip pouted out. Oh boy. He straightened his tie and fixed a warm smile on his face.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes,” the woman snapped. “Hopefully, you’ll be more helpful than she was. I got a wart removed from my foot, and a month later, it’s still there. I’m not paying my bill until it’s removed.”
He nodded. “I understand how frustrating that is. How long did the doctor tell you it would take?”
She dropped her arms. “A few sessions, but I don’t think it’s fair to charge me for every session. I should only pay if it’s gone.”
He felt movement to his right and snuck a look at Brandy, who had sidled up next to him. She had had his back so many times, it was time to return the favor. “I see. Did the doctor inform you about the multiple sessions before you agreed to the treatment?”
“Well, yes she did, but—”
“Then we will just have to continue with the treatments. If you’d like, we can put your payments on a monthly plan—one you can afford—and you can pay that way.”
