The Color Of Light. Emilie Richards
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forward. “Anything I need to know about right this minute?”
“Georgia Ferguson is dropping by around noon with wedding plans, and Ethan Martin wants to know if you’d like to have lunch.”
“Thumbs-up to Georgia. And the rest?” Analiese gestured to the messages. The moment everyone arrived she had held a quick staff meeting and explained all the details of what had transpired over the weekend. Everyone was now up to speed and manning the defenses.
“Two who want to help with the Fowler family, two who don’t sound helpful.”
“So no messages from a man named Isaiah Colburn?”
Myra shook her head. Analiese wasn’t surprised. “Well, if he does call, no matter what, put him right through or get a return number, okay?” She glanced at her calendar. “Would you mind calling Ethan? I’ll be free about twelve thirty, but we need to go somewhere close by.”
“Only because your day is going to be worse than mine.” Myra closed the door behind her.
Analiese rested her face in her hands. She’d spent most of the previous day trying to find help for the Fowlers. Not one of her contacts had been able to make a suggestion for housing that didn’t involve a long waiting list. Some of the other services required that the Fowlers be Asheville residents, which was, of course, impossible if they couldn’t find housing. Most residence requirements were longer than the two weeks the Fowlers would be living upstairs.
“I’m like a dog chasing my tail.” Allowing herself one self-pitying sigh she picked up the telephone, the telephone directory and the stack of messages, and got to work.
Hours later when someone knocked, she was on her feet bending over in a yoga posture that Taylor, who owned a health and fitness studio, had taught her. She was hoping to get the kink out of her back and the phone conversations out of her head. Before she could answer Georgia opened the door.
“I have Starbucks.” Georgia held up two paper cups. “Earl Grey latte, the way you like it.”
“You are a saint.” Analiese straightened and smiled as her friend came in. Georgia was a decade older than she was, trim and attractive, with cinnamon-colored hair that fell nearly to her shoulders and perceptive brown eyes. She wasn’t vain, but she took care of herself and, like Analiese, her own latte probably sported nonfat milk.
“How was your holiday?” Georgia asked.
Analiese motioned her toward two armchairs in the corner with an end table between them and tried to remember how Thanksgiving had gone. It seemed like years ago.
“Ethan and Taylor invited me to spend it with them, but I ended up eating dinner with one church family and dessert with another. I think I was supposed to keep their extended families from killing each other.”
“I hope you’re kidding.”
Analiese made a face. “My presence only cut down on the mayhem.”
“Lucas’s family argues all the time. Nothing’s kept hidden, that’s for sure. But they adore each other.”
“You had a good time?”
“Wonderful. And I met my father. Charles Wentworth, known as Charlie.”
“Georgia!” Analiese knew how important this was to her friend. Until recently Georgia hadn’t known anything about her biological parents. As an infant she had been abandoned in a hospital, and only recently had a maternal aunt from South Carolina discovered her existence and tracked her to Asheville. The aunt had promised to introduce Georgia to her father, who had also been in the dark, once she felt ready.
Georgia was smiling. “I’ll tell you more when we both have time. But he and his wife came to the Ramseys’ house to meet me on Friday. He’s wonderful, and she was friendly and welcoming. I look like him, Ana, and like their other children. Three sons, all educators like me, and Charlie publishes textbooks. Lucas and I are going to spend part of Christmas vacation in Columbia so I can meet the whole gang.”
“Well, that makes my day.” Analiese knew a happy ending when she heard one, although lately she was more acquainted with the other kind.
“A long time ago I gave up hope I’d find anybody. And suddenly I have an aunt, a father and brothers.”
Analiese reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “I’m so glad for all of you. Will they be at the wedding?”
“That will be up to them. And the wedding’s why I’m here.” Georgia reached inside a voluminous purse and pulled out a folder. “I’ve got to get back to school, but Lucas and I chose a few readings from the ones you gave us. I circled the ones we like. Now we’re working on our vows.”
“There’s no hurry. As long as you figure them out by your wedding day.”
Georgia got to her feet. “As far as I’m concerned we’ve already cinched this thing. We’re building a house together, sharing my condo while we wait. Edna already calls Lucas Grandpa because he gets such a kick out of it.”
“Weddings are celebrations of love.” Analiese paused, and her own came to mind. “Except when they’re not.”
“My first one had a justice of the peace, a discount store bouquet and a night in a cheap motel before Samuel was shipped off to Jordan on a peacekeeping mission.”
“This will be different.”
“I wouldn’t trade that one, though. He was a wonderful man, and before he died he gave me a wonderful daughter.”
Samantha, the wonderful daughter and a goddess, too, worked in a health clinic, and abruptly Analiese wondered why she hadn’t thought about Samantha before. She might have resources Analiese hadn’t considered.
She put a hand on Georgia’s arm to hold her in place before she started toward the door. “I have a story, a quick one. Do you have a moment to listen?”
Georgia glanced at her watch before she nodded. Analiese filled her in on the Fowlers and everything that had happened that weekend. Then she told her how little help she’d found.
“I think I need to call on the goddesses this time, starting with you. Shiloh, who’s fourteen, is exceptionally bright. She says she was in gifted classes in Ohio, but her education has been virtually nonexistent since they took to the road. Now she doesn’t want to go to school at all. Is there any chance you could take her at Because?”
B.C.A.S., the Buncombe County Alternative School, was always called “Because,” and the school’s motto, emblazoned everywhere, was Because You Can. Because You Will.
“We have homeless kids, that’s not a problem. But Shiloh has to be referred by a teacher or a counselor from another school where she’s not thriving. I can’t take her without that.”
Analiese toyed with asking the headmaster at Covenant Academy next door to make the referral, but Georgia read her mind.
“A public school referral,” she added. “The minute I get one, I’ll make finding a place for her a priority.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to get her to school in the first place.”
Georgia glanced at her watch again and this time started toward the door. “How did this become your problem? Seems to me you already have enough on your plate. It’s a big church with lots of resources. Don’t you need a committee to look into this?”
Analiese walked with her. “I’ll get help, but sometimes it takes more time to bring people up to speed than to take the first steps myself.”
“What’s the closest school?”
Analiese made an educated guess, and Georgia nodded.
“I can call the principal and ask him to find somebody on staff to reach out to Shiloh. And I can tell him we’ll take her with a referral, if need be.”
“That