Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

 

 

“Where did I put those contracts?” Frankie asked herself as she dug through another pile of paperwork on her desk. She had about ten minutes until her next client arrived—a little girl coming for her first riding lesson—and she needed an agreement for the girl’s parents to sign. Frankie hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. She had to have each client’s information on file just in case there was an emergency. Plus, there was all the legal mumbo-jumbo in the contract to keep her from getting the pants sued off her if someone accidently got hurt on her property. “I know I made more copies. They’re here somewhere.”

Frankie picked up a fly mask that had somehow made it onto her desk and moved three empty coffee cups, but didn’t see the contracts anywhere. Ugh. How was it that she could keep ten horses cared for, three rambunctious boys alive, and her stable spotless, but her tiny office in the barn was continually a mess? The ten-by-ten room looked like the inside of the microwave after a hotdog explosion. Stuff was everywhere.

“You need some help?” a voice asked.

Frankie looked up and found Hazel standing in the open doorway. She was wearing tan capris and a flowy top. Her red hair was curled, and she’d done her makeup. Frankie had barely brushed her teeth this morning.

“Oh, more than you know.” Frankie half-chuckled to brush off the reality of her reply.

Hazel offered up a little brown sack. “This might help.”

Frankie immediately recognized the stamped logo on the sack. “You went to Patty Cakes?”

“I did. And I remembered what you said about the Maple Bars.” Hazel took two steps to Frankie’s desk and handed the sack to her. “There’s a half dozen in there. Grace and I each had one at the bakery. They’re to die for.”

Frankie’s mouth watered as she opened the bag and pulled out the rectangular pastry. She took a big bite and closed her eyes, savoring the flakey sweetness and creamy maple frosting. It was like biting into a stack of pancakes. “These are my absolute favorite.” She held up the donut like it was an award. “Thank you. You just made my day.”

“It’s a little thank you for letting us stay in your house.”

“If you plan on continuing to feed me chicken croissant sandwiches and maple bars, you can live with me forever.” Frankie was kidding . . . but not really.

Hazel smiled, but there was an awkward silence that followed.

“Did you need something?” Frankie knew she should be searching her files for the paperwork she needed, but Hazel looked out of place. And it wasn’t just the beige-colored pants she sported in the barn. If Frankie had worn those she’d already have horse slobber on them. 

“No, I—” Hazel shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Well, actually, I was wondering if you know of anyone looking for help.”

“Help?”

“I need a job.” Hazel seemed sheepish about her statement.

“Oh,” Frankie replied. “What kind of job?”

“Anything really. I stopped by the diner, but they don’t have any openings right now. I also swung by the grocery store, bookstore, feedstore, coffee shop. Even asked at Patty Cakes. Everyone was real sweet and took my information, but no one seems to be hiring right now.”

Frankie wrinkled her forehead, trying to think of options. “Is that what you went into town for?”

Hazel nodded. “Yes. That, and I sold my car.”

“You did what?”

“I sold my car. I put it online last night and a woman from the town over messaged me this morning. Met me at Patty Cakes and she ended up buying it.”

“Why’d you do that?” Frankie might’ve been looking at Hazel like she was crazy, because Hazel looked uncomfortable again. Frankie checked her facial expression.

“I mentioned yesterday that Grace’s father and I got a divorce about a year ago. Well, the whole thing left my bank account a little thinner than I’d like. And after seeing all the work that needs to be done on the carriage house, I figured selling my car would be a good way to get a big chunk of cash. I can use it to buy supplies, appliances, fix up the carriage house. That, and getting a job for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Frankie said, and Hazel pressed her lips together. “The divorce-thing, I mean. Not that you had to sell your car or need a job. I mean, you can always drive my truck.” Frankie knew she was babbling.

“Thanks, but it’s a short walk into town. Only the distance of a few city blocks. I was just hoping to get a job I could easily walk to. Maybe an administrative job? I’m good with a computer. I never finished college, but I’ve been a secretary at Grace’s elementary school for the past year. I’ve also been part of parent-teacher organizations since Grace started school. I’ve organized fundraisers, bake sales, field trips. I helped my ex with his real estate business when he needed paperwork filed, appointments made, or data plugged into spreadsheets.”

Hazel continued listing all the things that might help her get a job, but Frankie started to tune her out. Instead, she glanced around, taking in the cluttered desk, overstuffed file drawers, and the computer that was collecting dust. Forget the diner and the grocery store. Frankie was the one that needed help. Rose had always been there to help Frankie with her business, but now, Frankie was more than overwhelmed. “What would you think about helping me for the summer?”

Hazel stopped talking. Her mouth was stuck open. “You mean here, with the horses?”

“Mostly this.” Frankie circled both hands around the office, still holding tight to her half-eaten donut. “Ever since Mom passed, I barely have time to think. She used to help me with everything. With the boys, the house, the horses.”

Hazel closed her mouth, looking somber. “I didn’t mean to ask for another favor.” She looked like she might turn around.

“It wouldn’t be a favor, Hazel. I need the help and I can afford to pay you a few dollars over minimum wage. I need someone to get my files out of this . . . this state of chaos,” Frankie stuttered, knowing there were years of papers scattered around the room. “And I’ve got summer riding camps scheduled every Monday through Friday from next week until the end of August. Do you think you could help me organize the day camps? Could you wrangle kids too?”

“Wrangle them?” Hazel had a mix of alarm and curiosity on her face.

“I’ll handle all the horse stuff, but I need someone to make lunches, help with the kids, organize activities like crafts and reading and games.”

The alarm started melting from Hazel’s face. “I can do that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Actually, I’d love to. I love kids. Wish I’d had a boatload myself. And I love to organize.”

Frankie blinked, feeling a heavy weight lifting from her shoulders. “Well, I’m glad someone enjoys it . . . organizing, that is. I’d much rather clean a stall or a horse than sit at a desk.”

“I didn’t expect you to offer me a job,” Hazel said. “I guess those Maple Bars really are magic.” She smiled.

“They are one-hundred percent magic.” Frankie took another bite and licked a dab of maple frosting from her lip. “Can you start today? Like right now?”

“Um, sure. What would you like me to do?”

“I’ve got a riding lesson that’s supposed to start in a few minutes, and I need to go get Daisy out of the pasture. Would you mind digging through this mess and see if you can find a blank copy of a contract called a Lesson Agreement? I need a copy for this little girl’s parents to fill out. Otherwise, you can print a new copy. The file is on the computer desktop, but my printer has a mind of its own. The last time I tried to use it the stupid thing jammed and then spit out blank sheets.”

Hazel joined Frankie behind the desk, looking like she wasn’t quite sure where to start. “Alright. Yes. Go get your horse ready.” She started flipping through a few papers. “I’ll get you a copy of the Lesson Agreement.”

“Great.” Frankie stepped away from the clutter. “Just come find me if you have questions.”

Hazel nodded but didn’t look up from the desk. She looked intent on finding her target. Frankie took another bite of her donut and thought the morning was already looking brighter.

 

Printer paper, paper clips, notepads, file folders. Hazel made a list of supplies Frankie needed for her office. It was the middle of the afternoon, and in her first day Hazel had managed to sift through all the loose papers on Frankie’s desk. She now had them divided into neat piles. She hadn’t found blank copies of the Lesson Agreement, but managed to get the printer working. She created ten fresh copies, one of which now had Frankie’s newest client’s information scribbled on it. Hazel wasn’t a genius with technology, but she had one trick that worked ninety-nine percent of the time—press the restart button. After unplugging and restarting the printer, the machine quickly spit out ten fresh copies. Now, if only that trick applied to life’s mistakes. There were a few things Hazel would like to press the restart button on.

Since the paperwork was organized and ready to file—once Hazel got file folders—she thought the office could use a cleaning. It was in a barn, but if Hazel would be overseeing this space for the summer, she would keep it tidy. Finding a rag in one of the desk drawers, Hazel started wiping down the computer, desk, and the pictures which filled the walls. Behind the desk there was a colorful painting of mountains and running horses. The other walls were full of family photos, ribbons, and shelves of trophies from years past. Hazel glanced at each picture as she dusted off the frames. There were many different horses in the pictures, but what stuck out to Hazel was the joy in each photograph. There were pictures of the boys when they were tiny, riding horses and laughing, posing for the camera with silly faces. There were pictures of Frankie at rodeos and horse shows. There were a couple of pictures from Frankie and Garrett’s wedding, even one where both Frankie and Garrett were riding horses and holding hands. And there was a common theme that popped up in most every picture—Rose.

It was obvious that Rose was very close to Frankie. In the pictures, she looked like a beaming mother, a doting grandmother. She looked to be an important and constant part of Frankie’s life. Hazel found her gut twist with this realization, knowing that Rose had chosen not to be a part of Hazel’s life, or Grace’s.

Instead of torturing herself, Hazel pulled her eyes from the pictures and focused on a thick wooden cross that hung on the other wall. The cross was covered in colorful leather pieces that boasted intricate stitching and were attached to the wood by metal grommets. Turquoise stones decorated the center. Hazel wiped down the edges of the cross, thinking it was truly a piece of art. She wondered who made it.

“I haven’t seen the top of that desk in ten years,” Frankie said, walking through the door. She was leading a horse. The horse popped its head into the office like it needed to see what Frankie was talking about.

Hazel had been so in her head that she hadn’t even noticed the clip-clip of horse hooves down the barn aisle. “I’ve got a list of things I need to get you at the store, but once I have more files, I can completely clean off your desk.”

“Looks great. Thank you.” Frankie’s eyes went to Hazel’s hand which still had the rag pressed against the leather-clad cross. There was a quick flash of emotion that grazed Frankie’s face.

Hazel dropped her hand. “I thought I’d do some cleaning, but is there anything else you’d like me to get done today?”

Instead of answering her question, Frankie said, “Those were Mom’s.”

Hazel looked at the wall and then back at Frankie. “What were?”

“The leather pieces on the cross.” Frankie stepped toward Hazel and touched the cross that Hazel had been dusting. “Each of these leather pieces came from one of Mom’s cowboy boots.” Frankie’s finger grazed over the red, brown, and black leather. Suddenly Hazel could see that each layered piece was the top of a boot. “She loved her cowboy boots.”

Hazel could physically feel Frankie’s pain. It hung between them, and Hazel couldn’t help but back away. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to give Frankie space or if she just couldn’t absorb the intimacy of the moment. There were pieces of Hazel that would never understand what Rose did, how she abandoned one daughter but loved another. Somehow, the knowledge of the pictures and the boots made those pieces a little more jagged.

But none of that was Frankie’s fault, so Hazel dipped her eyes and said, “It’s beautiful.”

Frankie shook herself out of her thoughts. “Jesse’s mom made it for me. You’ll have to meet her one of these days. Joyce was Mom’s best friend. She has a place next to Jesse’s. Can craft and quilt with the best of them.”

Hazel felt stuck. She wanted to know more about her biological mother, but each new piece of information was overwhelming her. “Are you thirsty? I’m going to get a water from the house. Do you want one?”

Giggles and footfalls headed down the barn aisle and one of the boys yelled for Frankie.

“Mom!” He lengthened the word out like it had multiple syllables, and Tommy showed up in the doorway.

“Hi, Daisy.” Tommy rubbed the horse on its nose.

“You guys all done with your chores?” Frankie asked.

“We’ve got two more buckets to scrub,” Tommy said. Noah, Wyatt, and Grace showed up behind him.

“You better hurry. I’m going to untack Daisy and brush her, and then I’m done with lessons. If all the buckets are clean, we can get out the sprinkler.”

All three boys lite up like Christmas lights and disappeared from the doorway. Grace pet Daisy gently on the shoulder before running off.

Frankie gathered the lead rope in her hands. “Your parents brought Grace a swimsuit, right?”

“They did.”

“Good. It’s about hot enough to fry an egg on a sidewalk. I’ve got popsicles and a sprinkler the kids can run through. Grace is welcome to join. You too.”

“To run through the sprinkler?” Hazel was sweaty, but that didn’t mean she wanted to put on a swimsuit and run around the yard.

Frankie shrugged. “If you want. Sometimes I join the kids, but I’ll probably just sit on the deck with a cold glass of wine.”

Hazel set the dust rag down on the desk. “That sounds really nice.”

Then she remembered the other thing she was going to ask Frankie. She spit it out before she thought too much more about it. “I’ve also been meaning to talk to you about riding lessons for Grace.”

“Jesse and I didn’t mean to get in the middle of anything,” Frankie started right away. “He shouldn’t have offered the lessons to Grace without asking you, but I know he meant well. And, if you change your mind about Grace riding, the offer is still on the table. I’m happy to give her lessons. In fact, she could join in on the summer camps. That way you’d be around to watch her ride too.”

Hazel gave her a crooked smile. Frankie had a really big heart, and Hazel felt bad for lumping her in with all her feelings about Rose.

“My mind has been changed,” Hazel said. “But I want to pay you for the lessons and the camp.”

“Nope,” Frankie said, matter-of-factly. “Grace can help the boys with their chores around here and that will be the payment. I won’t accept anything else.”

Hazel was grateful, but uncomfortable with the offer. She was already living in Frankie’s house and under her employment. But instead of arguing, Hazel started thinking about what else she could do to help Frankie and the kids. If Frankie wouldn’t let her pay for riding camp, Hazel was prepared to cook up a storm. “Well, I hope you’re hungry. Because I plan to do a lot of cooking. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

Frankie’s eyes twinkled. “I’m always hungry.” She joined Daisy in the barn aisle. “Meet you on the deck?”

“Meet you there,” Hazel replied. A popsicle and a glass of wine sounded like the perfect combination to take the edge off the humid afternoon.