Page 10 of Her Summer Hope

She felt the tears collect in her eyes as she stared at the bill. She could lose the house. “Rob always took care of all the taxes and things. I just…I didn’t even think…” She stopped and looked at her again. “I’ve got one hundred and thirty-two dollars in my checking account. That’s it.”

Helen sat beside her and patted her hand. “Everything is going to be fine. Don’t you worry. I’ve got a little money saved up. It’s not much, but it might help with—”

“No,” Madison said firmly, cutting her off. “I can’t take your money. I won’t.”

She knew the old woman barely made ends meet as it was, and it didn’t help that she only charged Madison a pittance for child care. She couldn’t take anything else from her.

“What about government benefits?” Helen asked gently.

The shame of applying for state benefits made her want to curl up into a ball and never leave her house again. It made her feel like a failure, but she also felt as if she wasn’t in need enough for that. Those funds should go to people who truly needed them.

She was doing just fine, except for this one crappy thing.

No. She could figure it out on her own.

“No. I can take care of this. I know I can,” she said, picking at her nails and watching little Emmie trying to roll over in the playpen.

“How? You’re spread thin as it is!”

“Mom! Look what we did!” Jackson said, tearing into the room with James hot on his heels.

“Oh, dear!” Helen said.

Madison looked at their paint-covered faces and arms, about to scold them for making such a mess. When they pulled their hands out from behind their backs, the words died in her throat.

They had painted pictures.

Jackson’s was sweet. They were all there lined up in front of the house. There were flowers and, inexplicably, little Emmie in a cage that she hoped was supposed to be a crib.

James had painted himself and his father, larger than anything else.

She burst into tears.

∞∞∞

It took her two days to work up the courage to ask Christian for more hours.

She waited behind the register for the customers to file through and pay, and when they were gone and only the browsers remained, she approached her aloof boss in his office—a tiny room roughly the size of a broom closet.

He frowned at her from behind the desk. She didn’t usually bother him while he worked in here. His expression was almost enough to send her packing.

“Madison? Is something wrong?” he asked, pulling off his glasses and cleaning the lenses before replacing them.

Papers were scattered on the top of his desk and his calculator was close at hand. She had either caught him at the best—or worst—possible time.

“Uh. I thought maybe I could talk to you if you have a moment?” she asked from the doorway.

He stared at her and she couldn’t read his expression. He was a stern man and usually reserved his rare smiles for his brother’s children, but he usually had a bit less forbidding expression for her. Having that look directed at her was unsettling, though she knew he meant nothing by it.

“Yes?”

“Well, I…have a situation. There’s…I…need money. To pay a bill. Taxes,” she stammered out. “Property taxes.”

You sound like an idiot!

He sat back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together as he considered what she had said. His face looked grave.

“I’m not asking for a raise!” she said quickly, holding up her hands. “I just wondered if I could get more hours…maybe…full-time…for a while?” she asked, hating the anxiety she felt.

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