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Rob went to the far right file cabinet and pulled out the top drawer. “As I recall, she files the year’s invoices by month received, and month paid. We got that shipment…what? Two months ago?” He checked the June folder, then July. “Here it is. Those locks came in at the beginning of July.”
“Well, thank God you had some idea of where to look. This whole system is just a mess.” His dad tugged the paper of out Rob’s hands. “How’m I supposed to remember what month the damn locks came in?”
“There’s a logbook, Dad.” Rob took the journal from the left drawer of the desk. “We record the deliveries.” He didn’t mention that his sister simply did what their dad had told her to with regard to the paperwork. Mike wouldn’t want to hear that the system he despised this morning was his own invention. “So what’s the problem with the invoice, anyway?”
“I keep taking down locks that don’t work right.” His dad left the office and went into the workshop. On his bench was a stack of six boxes containing brand-new locks. “Gotta send ’em back.”
“That’s a good company. It’s hard to believe they’d distribute defective merchandise. Have you tested every lock in the shipment?”
“That’s your job today.” Without so much as a glance in Rob’s direction, his dad started checking over his toolbox, getting ready for the day’s work.
Rob stood still for a minute, unwilling even to breathe for fear his temper would get the best of him. “My job?” he said, finally. “You want me to test five hundred locks?”
Mike nodded. “That’s right.”
“And I get this job because…?”
“Who else? Trent’s on call today. Smith is working on that office building project, which leaves you.”
“I’ll take call again. Let Trent test the locks.” He sounded like a whiny teenager. But he wasn’t an errand boy or an apprentice. “Or let Smith stay here and work with the locks. I should be doing the office project, anyway.”
“You weren’t able to stay until six in the afternoons, like they needed. So Smith took the job. And you test the locks.”
“Why don’t you test the locks?” Absolutely the worst thing he could’ve said.
Mike looked at him, then—Rob felt like he was staring at his older self in a mirror—and straightened up to his full height. “I run this business. I make the decisions and I assign the jobs. Nobody argues. That’s the way it is.”
And I quit, Rob said, but only in his mind. He’d had the thought a thousand times in the last fourteen years, and never acted on the impulse. Quitting his job would cause havoc in the family. More importantly, the insurance he carried through the business handled Ginny’s medical bills. He couldn’t afford to give up the insurance unless he had a better policy to replace it with. And these days, getting new insurance for a child with a preexisting condition was about as easy as changing his dad’s mind.
So he swallowed the words, along with a few choice phrases he would like to have used. “Yes, sir.” He headed toward the storeroom and the boxes of locks. “Whatever you say.”
WHEN HER OFFICE INTERCOM buzzed during her Monday morning staff meeting, Valerie could have sworn in frustration. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
The other department heads relaxed in their chairs as she crossed the room to pick up the phone on her desk. She turned her back to the conference table before she spoke. “Terri, I asked you not to disturb me during the meeting.”
“I know, Ms. Manion. But it’s your children’s school calling. I thought you’d want to know if someone was sick or hurt.” Her secretary had three children of her own, their pictures proudly displayed on her desk.
“Yes, of course.” Valerie sighed, sweeping her fingertips across her own bare work surface. “Put me through.”
After a click, a man’s voice said, “Hello?”
“This is Valerie Manion.”
“Ah, Mrs. Manion. This is Charles Randleman, the principal at Crawford Elementary School. I need to speak with you about your son, Connor.”
“Is he hurt? Sick?”
“Uh, no. Connor is fine. But he’s been causing us a great deal of trouble, and I think it’s time I involve you in the situation.”
Oh, Connor. Not again. “Has he hurt somebody?”
“No, no, not really. But—”
“Is the school building still standing?”
“Yes, of course. But, Mrs. Manion—”
His use of “Mrs.” set her teeth on edge. “Then I’ll have to call you back, Mr. Randleman. I’m in a meeting and I really can’t talk right now.”
“But this is your son, Mrs. Manion. Surely, he’s your first priority.”
“Yes, and if I don’t work, he doesn’t eat, which is a priority for both of us. So I’ll call you when I’m free and we’ll set up a time to talk. Thanks for letting me know there’s a problem.” She hung up on the principal’s bluster, took two seconds to master her worry and then turned to smile at the four men waiting for her. “Now, we were reviewing those production figures for the last quarter, weren’t we? Do we have a good reason for the six-percent drop?”
An hour later, she finally had her office to herself. As she put together the reports she’d received, Terri knocked on the door. “Here’s your lunch, Ms. Manion.” She set a tray on the conference table. “Is there anything else?”
Valerie didn’t glance at the food. “Terri, we need to get something settled. I’m going to notify the school that you are authorized to receive any emergency information about Grace and Connor that needs to be delivered. I don’t want to be interrupted in a meeting unless there’s a really good reason. This morning’s chat with the principal was not a good reason.”
Terri’s pale blue eyes went round with shock. “You want me to…to…to brush off a principal?”
Valerie grinned. “Haven’t you always wanted to?”
But Terri didn’t smile back. “N-No. I haven’t.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I want you to tell the principal that if no one’s life or health is at stake, I will call him when I have a chance.”
“But you’re their mother. You have to care about what’s wrong.”
“I do care. But I care about my work, as well. Do the other vice presidents take personal calls from the school during meetings?”
“I—I don’t know…”
“I’ve been working in management for ten years now, and I’ve never seen it happen.”
Terri couldn’t seem to grasp the concept. She wrung her hands. “Their f-father isn’t—”
“No, he isn’t. And he didn’t take calls when he was. I’m not saying I want to ignore a serious problem, Terri. If Connor’s sick, I want them to tell you and I’ll leave as soon as possible to take him home. I just need to be able to prioritize. That means only bona fide emergencies during the workday. Okay?”
“O-Okay.”
Still looking confused, the secretary went back to her desk. Valerie sat down in front of her salad and crackers, with the production reports in front of her. Work time was for working, or else she’d never get everything done.
The intercom buzzed again before she’d had time for more than a forkful of lettuce. “Yes?”
“Ms. Manion, I’m sorry. But it’s the school again.”
“I—” No, she wouldn’t complain. Her authorization wasn’t in place yet. “Let me speak to them.”
Another click on the line. “Mrs. Manion, this is Principal Randleman. I’m afraid we do have a serious problem this time.”
Valerie waited, expecting to hear about some wrestling match in the library.
“Connor punched his fist through a window,” Randleman said. “We had him taken to the hospital in an ambulance.”
ROB ARRIVED AT the elementary school thirty minutes before the end of class on Wednesday. As early as he was, though, he found Valerie there ahead of him, with her boxes of papers, books and supplies already unloaded and sitting on a cafeteria table.
“You are one organized lady,” he told her, noticing the precut craft supplies, the cookies and juice for snacks already prepared. “I’d have to be a real early bird to get the worm before you do.”
She smiled, but he thought her eyes looked strained. “I like knowing everything is ready ahead of time. Surprises make me nervous.”
“I understand.” He held out the bag he carried. “Twenty-five compasses, donated by Moore’s Outdoor Store.”
“Donated? Really?” She gazed into the bag, then looked up in amazement. “How did you get them to do that?”
“Hank Moore’s a friend of mine from high school. I asked and he said he’d be glad to contribute.”
“That’s terrific. We can do the orienteering activity we talked about.” Valerie set the bag beside her other materials. “I came up with another game to have in its place, but I’d much rather work with the compasses.”
Irritation flickered inside him. “I told you I’d get them. You didn’t need to waste time worrying about another activity.”
She turned away. “Well, yes, but sometimes people don’t get around to doing what they say they will, so it’s best to be prepared.”
He caught her wrist between his fingers and tugged her back around. “Listen, Valerie. When I say I’ll do something, you can count on it getting done. No excuses, no second thoughts.” She still hadn’t looked at him, so he lifted her chin with his other hand. “Got that?”
“Got it,” she said, breathlessly, her brown eyes wide. Rob realized suddenly how close he’d brought her—close enough for a kiss, if he bent his head. Just a touch of his mouth to hers…
The loud jangle of a nearby bell announced the end of school. Before the vibrations had died away, he and Valerie stood a table’s length apart. In the next moment, little girls started pouring into the room, which effectively doused any adult inclinations he might entertain.
In time, Rob supposed, he would learn all their names, but to begin with there seemed to be a hundred of them, all about the same size and shape, all dressed in khaki shorts and vests and dark blue shirts, all running and chattering and in general creating chaos. Talk about safety in the meeting place! Ginny came in last of all, wearing the same outfit but easily distinguished by her crutches.
He met her in the center of the cafeteria. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”
“Okay.” She looked tired, as she always did after school. “This is really crazy.” As she spoke, a redhead with pigtails flashed by Rob, headed at top speed across the room. Next thing he knew, Ginny cried out and both girls went down in a jumble of legs, arms, and stainless steel.
“Oh, man.” He knelt by his daughter, who was thrashing around. “Settle down, Ginny.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay.”
“I am not. She hurt me!”
The redhead was crying, too. “Oww. My arm hurts.”
Valerie knelt on the other side. “Sit up, sweetie. There you go. Let me see your arm.” Rob helped Ginny sit up, and they got the two bodies separated. The four of them were now the center of a circle formed by wide-eyed little girls.
“That was a stupid thing to do.” Ginny had shifted into a high-gear tantrum. “You don’t run around people with crutches—you might hurt them. Can’t you see where you’re going?”
“Hush,” Rob told her. “It was an accident.”
“I think you’re okay,” Valerie told the other girl. “You just fell hard on your hand.” She looked around the circle. “Why don’t we start the meeting? Girls, get your books from your backpacks and sit down here. Grace, would you bring my books over? And where’s Connor?”
“He went outside to the playground,” Grace said as she handed her mother the materials.
“He can’t play outside with his hand in a bandage. Go get him, please, and tell him to come inside.”
“He won’t come if I say so.”
“Tell him I’d better see him in here in one minute or he’ll be missing TV for the rest of the week.”
Grace heaved a big sigh and went toward the door. Rob could sympathize—he had it on Jen’s authority that it wasn’t fun, keeping track of a little brother all the time when you’d rather be participating in your own activities.
Thanks to the planning session on Sunday, he’d brought along Ginny’s floor chair so she could sit with the other girls. By the time he’d gotten her settled, Grace was back with a disgusted Connor. The boy’s hand was bandaged from fingertips to elbow.
“Did you get in a fight with a bobcat?” Rob winked at him. “They’re mean critters, aren’t they?”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “There are bobcats around here?”
“Not really. What did you do to your hand?”
But Connor wasn’t volunteering an answer. He turned his head away, just as Valerie officially started the meeting.
“I’m glad to see all of you at our first Girls Outdoors! meeting. I’m Ms. Manion, your leader, and this is Mr. Warren. He’ll be my assistant leader.”
“I didn’t know men could be leaders,” said a little blonde across the circle.
A dark-skinned girl spoke at almost the same time. “I didn’t know men could be assistants.”
Valerie grinned. “Well, according to the rules, men can be GO! assistant leaders. Mr. Warren was a Boy Scout and earned his Eagle award, so he knows lots of stuff about the outdoors he can share with us. Now, let’s go around the circle so each one can tell us her name and one interesting outdoors fact about her. Grace, can you start?”
Rob saw Grace flush, and her eyes looked a little bright. But she knew what to do. “My name is Grace Manion and I like bird-watching.”
Around the circle they went, learning names and hearing about girls who liked soccer or swimming or tennis, who camped with their families or sailed or spent a week at the beach. As the girls spoke, Connor started scooting away from the circle, pushing with his feet and sliding on his backside in an attempt to escape. Rob watched with a smile as Valerie grabbed the leg of the boy’s jeans just before he moved out of reach and pulled him back to sit beside her, all without even glancing in her son’s direction.
Just then, Ginny’s turn to talk arrived. “I’m Virginia Warren,” she said. “I like to ride horses.”
One of the girls on the other side of the circle said, “You ride horses? I don’t believe it.”
“I do ride.” Ginny’s face turned red. “I take lessons, too.”
On Rob’s left, Valerie nodded. “There are riding programs for people with all sorts of abilities. And there are GO! badges for horseback riding, among lots of other things. Open your books right now to page one hundred seventy—that’s the HorseCare Badge. To earn that badge, you have to do six of the activities listed on these pages. And when you do them all, then I can give you a little circle which looks just like the picture. You sew your badges on your vest and everyone can see all the interesting things you’ve done when you wear your uniform.”
She took them through the book as she had planned, pointing out the soccer badge, the swimming badge, the shell-collecting and bird-watching awards, plus cooking and camping and a myriad of other activities. “What you’ll need to do is to look through and decide which badges appeal to you the most. Some you can earn on your own, and some we’ll earn as a troop.”
Valerie got to her feet. “As a matter of fact, we have a couple of badge activities to do this afternoon. On page one-thirty-nine is the hiking badge.” She walked over to the table and took one of the compasses out of the bag. “Anybody know what this is?”
A couple of hands went up, including Grace’s. Valerie called on a different girl. “That’s a compass.”
“Right. And what’s it used for?”
Grace and several others raised their hands. “To find directions,” someone said.
“And which of the badge requirements does using a compass satisfy?”
