“Don’t cry. I think I read that salt is terrible for the skin.”
Blaise snorted out a real laugh this time. “I’ll keep that mind.”
“All right,” Cece said, straightening. “You have some work to do, so I’ll get out of your hair. Send me whatever you come up with for that first chapter whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush to do this tomorrow, you know. The timeline is up to you.”
Blaise got to her feet and walked Cece to the door. Not one to be left out, Beau joined them. “I can’t thank you enough. You and Maude. I owe you guys dinner, at least.”
“I wouldn’t say no to that, but if you really want to pay me back, come shopping with me sometime and help me make better clothing choices.”
Blaise gave her a quick hug, then let her go to open the door. “I would love that. You pick the day and I’m all yours.”
“Great! We’ll do it as soon as you get that letter sent. It’ll be a good distraction, so you don’t sit around checking your email all day.”
Blaise gripped the door handle a little harder. “You don’t think they’ll respond that fast, do you?”
Cece shook her head. “Not a chance. Publishing rarely moves that quickly. Although, I guess it could happen. You are kind of a celebrity, but it’s still pretty rare. Just forget I said that.” With a wave, she was gone.
Blaise closed the door. Her laptop awaited. And she had a story to tell.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Maude stood just inside the hospital’s main entrance, tugging lightly at the hem of her new volunteer vest. It was sunshine yellow and about two inches shorter than she would have liked. The front desk receptionist, Donna, had assured her that she looked adorable and that patients would love her.
She hoped so. This whole volunteering gig had seemed like such a great idea until she was actually standing in the hospital, feeling a little overwhelmed and very much like she did not belong here. What did she know about helping other people? Especially sick people.
The lobby buzzed with morning energy. Visitors were checking in at the kiosk, nurses ferried charts from place to place, a doctor in scrubs balanced a coffee in one hand while texting with the other. The scent was a mix of antiseptic and brewed coffee, familiar but not unpleasant.
“Maude!” a voice called.
She turned to see Tess, the volunteer coordinator, waving her over. Tess was brisk but kind. She wore sensible shoes and exuded the type of confidence Maude admired.
“You ready for your first day?”
“I’m ready to try,” Maude said, offering a hopeful smile.
Tess laughed, patting her arm. “That’s all we ask. I appreciate you coming in to train today, even though Monday is going to be your usual day.”
Maude shrugged. “Tuesday’s not much different than Monday. And when you work from home, you can make your own schedule.”
They walked together down a wide hallway as Tess explained the rules again. Confidentiality, courtesy, and the importance of comfortable shoes.
Fortunately, Maude had worn Keds.
Tess pointed out various departments.
“You’ll start in Lobby Support,” Tess said. “It’s easy. You greet visitors, help them find their way, maybe push a wheelchair now and then. Smile a lot. That’s like ninety percent of the job.”
“I can definitely smile,” Maude said. “And I’m fairly good with wheelchairs. I pushed my grandmother around the grocery store for years.”
“Perfect qualification,” Tess said.
They looped back around and, at the volunteer desk, Maude was introduced to a petite older woman named Rose, whose silver hair had a slight lavender tint. She wore her own yellow vest with some flair that included a big rhinestone flamingo pin.
Rose sized Maude up with a friendly but perceptive eye. “Newbie, huh?”
Maude put her hands up in adon’t shootgesture. “Guilty.”
“Don’t worry,” Rose said with an impish grin. “Most people are nicer than they look, and the ones who aren’t? Well, bless their hearts.”
