Angela stood up, too, and held out her fist for me to bump. There was a new light of determination in her eyes.
“You’re on.”
* * *
My second day ended with more peace and less exhaustion than had my first. I left early to stop at the town hall on my way back to the trailer and asked the woman at the front desk how I might go about having water, sewer and electric run out to my property.
“You want what now?” She fixed me with an incredulous glare.
I lifted my chin. I wasn’t going to be cowed by a civil servant. “I have an undeveloped piece of property beyond the city limits. I want to see about having utilities there so that when I build my house, I can have running water, lights, air-conditioning . . . you know, all the luxuries of life.” I didn’t mention that I’d also like those things hooked up to my trailer in the meantime.
Her lips pursed as she spun around her chair, reached into a deep drawer, pulled out a paper and slapped it onto the counter in front of me. “Here. You need to go to planning and zoning and apply. You know, you can’t just go building a house willy-nilly without permission.”
“The land I have is zoned residential. I made sure of that before I bought it.” At least, I hoped the real estate agent had been on the level with me about that.
“Doesn’t guarantee you’ll get the variance.” She lifted one shoulder. “There are policies and procedures. You need to talk to that department and find out what they are.”
I stifled a sigh. “Fine.” Hooking my purse over my arm, I wheeled around and stalked down the narrow hallway, following the sign that pointed in the direction of the planning department. But once I arrived there, the door was locked, and the lights were out.
“That department closes at three,” my friend at the front announced as I headed toward the exit.
“Thank you for letting me know that,” I muttered.
“You didn’t ask.”
Gritting my teeth, I reached for the exit door, only to pause when I heard a voice pipe up from behind the receptionist. “Hey, shouldn’t she get a welcome bag, Dolly?”
I was pretty certain that this time, it was Dolly’s teeth that were grinding. Letting go of the door, I strolled back to the desk. “Yeah,Dolly, how about it? Shouldn’t I get one of those welcome bags?” What I really wanted was to get the hell out of here. Maybe even the hell out of town. But hey, maybe there would be something useful in the welcome pack.
She offered me a sunny smile that I could tell was about as real as her hair color. “We want our new friends in town to get a taste of true southern hospitality.” Lifting a small bag made of patchwork and tied with a blue ribbon, she handed it to me. “Welcome to Harper Springs.”
“Thankssomuch.” I bared my teeth. “I’m excited to be part of this beautiful community. I’ll be even more excited once I have water and power on my land.”
“Planning and zoning opens at nine on Monday morning.”
“Great.” I exhaled. “Y’all have a nice weekend, Dolly. I hope you think of me every time you run water or turn on a lamp.”
5
Emma
I worked about eight hours over that first weekend at St. Agnes, mostly because I was still trying to catch up and become familiar with all of the patients. In addition to those currently on the floor of the oncology wing, we had others who would be coming in for treatment in the future. I wanted to begin establishing some protocol for integrating natural healing into their care plans from the start.
And to be honest, being in the air-conditioned corridors of the hospital was a far cry better than melting in the afternoon heat in my trailer.
On Sunday afternoon, Jenny called me just as I left St. Agnes and invited me over to swim and eat dinner. I was pathetically grateful for both the company and the chance to be in a real house.
The home she was sub-letting from Nico really was gorgeous. I loved the lush backyard, with flowers and deep green plants surrounding the swimming pool. Jenny made us salads with crusty homemade Italian bread and special vegan cookies for dessert. I felt like I was on a mini-vacation.
“I don’t mean to bring up a painful topic, but . . . nothing from Nico?” I asked her as we dug into the greens and crunchy vegetables.
She shook her head. “Not a word. I even gave in and texted my brother to see if he’d heard anything from him. He claims that he doesn’t know what’s going on.” She hesitated. “Of course, I couldn’t come right out andaskKyle. I had to just play it casual, or my big brother would’ve gone caveman on his best friend, which wouldn’t have helped anything.”
“They’re still good friends?” I licked a drop of dressing that was threatening to fall from my fork.
“Oh, yeah. They’re so different in some ways—Kyle’s a professional football player, and Nico’s a chef. But they each respect the other’s way of doing things, and they make it work.”
“Your brother’s a football player?” My eyebrows shot up. “No shit?”
