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Anita sat back in her chair. “I can take you to the place, but this is your service, Carly, not mine. I have plenty to do here.”
Carly looked down at the ground, her sandal scuffing the paving stones. “They said I needed your permission.”
“I can send a note.”
Carly looked up again. “I think they want it over the phone. The lady is waiting right now to talk to you.”
Anita shot up from her chair. “You left her on the phone and waited to tell me?” She didn’t pause for an answer, hurrying to the back door that led to the kitchen.
“Hello-oo, Anita! Oh, is that you, Carly?” Phyllis had come out into her backyard, which shared a fence with theirs.
How long had she been standing there and what had she heard?
“Hi, Phyllis,” Anita said. “I need to answer the phone.”
“Oh, you go right ahead.” Phyllis held up rose clippers. “I’m just trimming a few roses. By the way, Sassy is over here, and I fed her some tuna.”
“Oh, all right. Thank you.” Anita stepped into her house. She found the receiver on the kitchen table. “Hello? This is Mrs. Gifford. Sorry to make you wait.”
The woman’s voice that came through the phone was completely nonplussed and cheerful. “No worries, Mrs. Gifford. This is Nancy. I’ve had a nice chat with your delightful daughter, and we’re looking forward to seeing the two of you tomorrow.”
Delightful daughter? “I think there’s been a mistake,” Anita said. “This is a service project for Carly. I’ll drop her off, then pick her up when she’s done.”
The other end went silent for a moment, then Nancy said, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, perhaps? Since Carly is a minor, she needs to have a parent in the building while she’s spending time with the residents.”
Anita frowned and turned to gaze out the window overlooking the garden. Carly was crouched near the late tulips, inspecting something. “Well, I wasn’t aware of that.” She dragged in a breath. “I have a busy schedule just now, and I’m happy to sign a permission form. You see—”
“We can’t accept that,” Nancy said, her voice still kind. “I understand busy. I raised three kids myself—on my own. I’ve been in your shoes as a single mom.”
Anita’s mouth parted. What had Carly told this stranger over the phone?
“But sometimes, you have to make the sacrifice of time,” Nancy said. “Carly told us she needs eight hours, and so we are accommodating your family, not the other way around.”
Well. The woman was certainly direct. And right. “I’m sorry,” Anita said. “I didn’t mean to...I guess what I’m trying to say is...” Her thoughts were so jumbled that she had no idea what she was trying to say.
“Look, Mrs. Gifford,” Nancy continued in her gentle, calming voice, “Carly’s a good kid. You showing up for her will only strengthen that relationship as she’s adjusting to adolescence. We all make mistakes.”
“Did Carly tell you that . . .”
When her voice dropped off, Nancy said, “She explained everything. And if you can agree to our terms, we’ll see you tomorrow afternoon from two to six p.m., and then again on Sunday. Same time.”
Anita had no idea if her daughter had called the other places, or if they also required that a parent be on the premises. “All right. That’s fine. We’ll be there tomorrow at two o’clock.”
Nancy cheerfully gave her directions, which Anita decided not to interrupt, though she already knew where the assisted living facility was. After hanging up, she found Carly in the garden. She was still crouched next to the tulips, and on her hand crawled a ladybug.
The sight brought back a flood of memories of Carly as a little girl, following her around the garden, asking nonstop questions, helping do small tasks, and her endless fascination with the bugs. Anita’s irritation abated.
“I talked to Nancy.”
Carly looked up.
“Next time you have someone waiting to speak with me, tell me that first.”
Carly nodded. “Okay.”
“I guess I have to go with you,” Anita said in the most even tone she could muster. “Go get your homework done, and I’ll let you know when dinner is ready. You’re on cleanup duty, and tomorrow morning, you’ll have some other chores before we go to the facility.”
Carly nodded again, her expression sheepish. Then she headed past Anita, who noticed she had the ladybug latched on to her wrist.
