Where Azaleas Bloom. Sherryl Woods
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Once she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from pouring out all the frustrations and fears she’d kept bottled up. Helen listened without comment, then said with quiet reassurance, “We’re going to fix this, Lynn. I promise you that.”
“Before I’m homeless?” Lynn asked wryly.
“Absolutely,” Helen said. “I’ll speak to the bank. If need be, I’ll get the court to intervene while we straighten this out.”
Lynn breathed a sigh of relief. She could bear just about anything, she thought, except the thought of being on the streets with no place to go. Her parents had died several years ago. Her sisters lived in other states. If they knew how bad things were, they’d try to help, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to endure the humiliation of asking them. She’d been saving that for a truly desperate last resort.
“I’ll be by in an hour or two with that check,” Helen promised her. “You’ll still have time to get to the bank to cash it. In the meantime, I’ll call Jimmy Bob West and put the fear of God into him about his client’s behavior. Once I get to your place, we’ll take a look at those bills and see what we can work out, okay?”
“Thank you, Helen. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you in my corner. If it were just me, I could walk away. Start over, even from the very bottom. But I owe the kids better than that.”
“You’re a strong woman, Lynn. Try to remember that. You’ll do whatever it takes to keep your family healthy and safe. I just wish you’d told me about this sooner. Maybe I could have done something before things deteriorated so badly.”
“I was taught that asking for help was a sign of weakness,” Lynn said. “I kept thinking I could figure things out or that Ed would shape up.”
“Turning to friends, and especially to your attorney, is not a weakness,” Helen replied emphatically. “Remember that. I’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks,” Lynn said, her spirits marginally improved.
But then, as if to mock her, when she went to wash her hands in the downstairs bathroom, the cold-water knob came off in her hand.
“This is just the bloody last straw,” she muttered, sitting down on the toilet and letting the tears come. She wasn’t sure which was flowing harder, her tears or the water leaking in the sink.
“This is not solving anything,” she muttered, making an attempt to find the shut-off valve, only to discover it was stuck. She thought of Mitch. She doubted he’d had any idea what he was letting himself in for by offering to help her out. These days it seemed the disasters in her life were way too plentiful. Still, he had offered and he was right next door.
She splashed water on her swollen eyes, ran a brush through her hair, then hurried to Raylene’s. At her knock, Raylene opened the door at once. She frowned when she saw Lynn.
“Are you okay? You’ve been crying. What can I do to help?”
“Just a frustrating day,” Lynn told her. “Is Mitch here? Do you suppose I could borrow him for a minute? I have an impending plumbing disaster and I’m at a loss. He offered to help out if I ever needed anything.”
“Of course he will,” Raylene said. “I’ll get him and send him right over.”
“Thanks.”
Raylene started away, then came back. “Lynn, if you ever need anything at all, you know Carter and I will be happy to pitch in. Mandy adores Lexie, and we love having her over here anytime she wants to come. You and Jeremy are always welcome, too. I imagine it’s been tough since Ed left. I put that much together when you came to me for a job.”
“We’re managing,” Lynn said tightly, wondering if Helen had filled Raylene in on how bad things were, if Raylene had only given her a job out of pity. She immediately stopped herself from even considering such a possibility. Helen’s ethical standards were too high for her to be blabbing about her clients’ woes.
And after all Raylene had been through—her first husband’s abuse, a bout with agoraphobia and a final confrontation with her ex after his release from jail—Raylene was quick to lend a hand to everyone these days. She said it thrilled her to finally be able to repay some of the kindness extended to her when she’d been psychologically trapped in her own home for so long.
Lynn forced a smile. “Thanks for offering, though. You’ve already done plenty for us.”
“We’re always happy to help. I mean that.”
Lynn nodded. “I know you do.” For the second time that day, she’d been reminded that she did have friends, people who would be there for her if only she asked.
“Okay, then,” Raylene said, then left to get Mitch as Lynn walked back home.
When Mitch appeared at her house and immediately set to work on repairing the knob, she couldn’t help noticing how quietly competent he was. He was also a man of few words. She liked that he didn’t ask a lot of questions about how she’d managed to break the stupid thing in the first place. Ed would have turned the whole incident into a flurry of accusations about her incompetence.
When the job was done, Mitch washed his hands, then smiled at her. “Good as new,” he declared. “Or as good as a twenty-year-old fixture is likely to be. You might think about replacing it one of these days.”
“I’ll put it on the list,” she said.
He gave her a chiding look. “Is this one of those long lists that no one ever gets to?”
“Pretty much.”
“I could get one for you at cost and replace it in no time,” he offered.
Lynn shook her head. “That’s okay. This one will have to hold up a while longer.”
“Okay, then,” he said, not pressing. When they got to the kitchen, he hesitated. “Other than that knob coming off in your hand, has something else happened since I saw you earlier? You look even more stressed.”
“How flattering.”
He winced. “Sorry. I’m not up on polite chitchat. If I want to know something, I figure the best way to find out is to ask. The kids are okay?”
She smiled at his determined attempt to try to pry information out of her. “They’ll be home from school any minute. I’m sure you’ll see Lexie next door and can determine for yourself how she’s doing.”
He looked vaguely chagrined. “Okay. Message received. I didn’t mean to pry. Sorry if I struck a nerve.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Mitch. It’s just been a tough day,” she said. “You were right. I am stressed out.”
“Take a break and put your feet up,” he advised. “I’ll be over in the morning.”
“See you then.”
He started to leave, then turned back. “Hey, I don’t suppose you could convince Lexie that it would be politically correct to play the local country station at full volume, rather than that crazy stuff she and Mandy like?”
“I haven’t had any luck around here,” she said. “That would be my preference, too. The country music Travis and Sarah play on the radio station here in town is much more my taste.”
“Mine, too. I think I’ve lived a lot of those lyrics.”
“Haven’t we all?” she agreed. Lately, she had a hunch her experiences could provide lyrics for an entire CD of love-gone-wrong songs. Maybe that should be her new calling.
Mitch stood there awkwardly for a moment longer, then shrugged. “I’d better get back over there. If I’m gone too long, my crew’s liable to put up a wall where no wall was intended to be.”
She laughed. “Something tells me you have them trained better than