During her first week on the job, Rae had discovered the reason for the charitable deed: a mixed-media collage by Hester Langdon hung on the wall of Evelyn’s brightly colored office.
“I guess it’s my turn to help out a kid in need,” Rae agreed, “but I’m floundering. He was friends with Lark . . . actually, he was the boy that found her that night. Quinn Galecki.”
“Good heavens, that can’t be easy. How is Connor handling this?”
“Better than I am. No one will ever replace his granddaughter’s place in his heart, but he’s really taken to Quinn. And the feeling is mutual.” Embarrassed suddenly, Rae laughed. “It’ll all work out, right?”
“In time, I’m sure it will.” Evelyn rose, nodded at the door. “I was closing up. Would you like to walk out together?” A playful light entered her soft brown eyes. “Or would you prefer to hide out at the office alone for another hour or so?”
On Wednesdays, the Witt Agency closed at four o’clock. Dashing across Chardon’s snow-bedecked center green, Rae looked forward to meeting Yuna at Dixon’s wine and dessert café for an hour of girl talk. Yuna wasn’t yet apprised of Quinn’s new living arrangements. The surprising turn of events would lead to good-natured teasing. Something along the lines of how Rae’s brash exterior hid the sweeter qualities of her chewy, nougat center.
She was scanning the dessert menu when her phone buzzed.
“I have to cancel,” Yuna said in a rush. “Kameko’s babysitter is down with a cold, and the high school called off cheerleading practice. The coach is also out sick. Want to guess where the cheerleaders are hanging out? We’re already busy—I don’t need a bunch of girls rooting through merchandise without making a purchase. If that’s not bad enough, a delivery arrived early. Twenty boxes.” A pregnant pause, then, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
It was hard keeping up. “Tell you what?”
“About Quinn moving in with you and your dad. I’m proud you’ve grown a brain. I’m also peeved you didn’t share the news.”
“Hey, I was planning to fill you in when we met up today for an afternoon snack.” Rae frowned. “Wait. How did you find out? Quinn doesn’t work for you until next weekend.” The conscientious teen had shared his work schedule with Connor.
“Your new houseguest told me. Quinn’s unpacking the delivery as we speak. He’s the one kid on the planet who picks up when his boss calls with an emergency.” Another pause, this one more tentative. “So . . . Quinn said it’s okay for Kameko to stay at your place this afternoon. Seeing as how my babysitter is down for the count. He’s good with kids.”
The remark’s subtext stung. Rae wasn’t first choice for standin babysitter.
“No worries, Yuna. We’ll take good care of Kameko.” A competitive note colored her voice. “Both of us.”
“I owe you one, girlfriend.” A clattering in the background, followed by wild giggling—Kameko’s. “It’s mayhem over here.”
Rae slid out of the booth. “On my way.”
All manner of chaos was raining down on Yuna’s Craft Emporium. The gaggle of cheerleaders talked at a deafening volume, clattering through jars of trinkets for jewelry making, their jaws moving faster than their hands. They blithely ignored the trinkets skittering across the floor.
Behind them, two women argued over the last stalk of silk iris in stock. On the other side of the craft emporium, trembling Mrs. Ogilvy—her gaze frantic behind thick bifocals—attempted to escape the waves of quilting fabric gripping her ankles. She’d unwisely pulled the bolt down from a shelf without assistance.
At the cash register, customers formed an impatient line. Both of Yuna’s employees were preoccupied. The tall brunette raced to Mrs. Ogilvy’s rescue. The slender college student sprinted to the back of the shop, where a toddler was lobbing balls of yarn over his head. The colorful projectiles flew past his mother. Oblivious, she flipped through a book on knitting.
Kameko banged into Rae’s knees. “Tag—you’re it!”
Pivoting, the five-year-old launched off the toes of her sneakers. She dove beneath a table, a length of toilet paper fluttering out from beneath her dress. It rendered the high-dexterity move less impressive.
Rae peered beneath the table. “Come out, please. I’m not crawling in after you.”
“No.”
“We can’t play in your mommy’s store. There’s too much stuff we could knock over. When we get to my house, you can run around nonstop.”