One of her roommates was still sleeping, so she quietly spread the blazer across her narrow bed and tried to smooth the worst of the wrinkles with her palms. Maybe she could press them out.
She held up the blouse near the window, hoping the stain might look better in natural light. It didn’t. The dark splotch fell right across the front.
She took the blouse to the bathroom and tried to scrub the stain out. No luck. Now it was stainedandwet.
Back in the bedroom, she dug through her clothes, trying hard not to look at her purse, sitting on the cardboard box that served as her nightstand. The check from her father was practically pulsing inside. Ten thousand dollars.“Come home when you run out of money.”
Cashing that check would prove she couldn’t handle life on her own. Cashing that check would mean defeat.
Delaney found nothing in her bureau that would work with the suit. She covered her face with her hands and whispered, “Lord, I know You have a plan. I know You brought me to Driftwood. What do I do now?”
“Tell me you ain’t praying again. Don’ you know God don’ care about people like us?”
She lowered her hands to see that her sleeping roommate was awake after all. And watching her.
“Hedoescare.” She hated how her voice trembled. If Delaney knew nothing else, she knew God cared. “You should try asking for His help.”
“That what you did that landed you here in this Taj Mahal?”
At least Delaney wasn’t sleeping in her car anymore. This place might not be fancy, but it was an answer to prayer. She’d grown up in luxury. In the last few months, she’d learned to appreciate a bed where she could stretch out her long legs and a shower where she could clean herself up in private.
“Today’s the day, right? The interview?” Linda’s voice was gravelly from years of smoking.
“Yeah, the nanny position.”
“You got a shot?”
“I have experience. I’ve worked as a nanny since I graduated from high school.” Except for a few months at a desk job in Boston, months Delaney had tried to scrape from her memory.
That brought a hard laugh. “High school. What was that, five minutes ago?”
Almost a decade, but she didn’t say that.
Linda propped herself up on one elbow. “You try washing out that stain?”
She must’ve been awake longer than Delaney realized. “It’s not budging. I bet a good dry cleaner could get it out.” But not in time.
“What size are you? Four? Six?”
Delaney’s pulse quickened. “What I am is flexible. You have an idea?”
“I might.” She swung her legs over the side of her bed, pulled a battered suitcase out from underneath, and opened it on the floor, where she rummaged through it.
Delaney hadn’t expected kindness from Linda, who’d made it clear what she thought of her faith.
“Here.” Linda pulled out a white button-down shirt. “I had a waitressing gig with a catering company. Job didn’t last, but I got to keep the shirt. It’s nothing fancy, but it don’ have no stains.”
The shirt was cheap polyester, but that made it wrinkle-free. It was a little dingy, the collar crumpled, and it was at least a size too big. But it would work.
“Linda, I—thank you.” The words were thick with gratitude.
“Geez, with the tears.” But Linda’s gruff tone had softened a fraction. “You seem like a decent kid. Someone’s gotta look out for you.”
Delaney was trying very hard to look out for herself, but so far all she’d done was prove she couldn’t manage.
She clutched the shirt to her chest, feeling something loosen in her throat. God worked through unlikely angels sometimes. “I’ll wash it and get it back to you as soon as I can.”
“You better. You never know when my ship’s gonna come in. That’s the fanciest blouse I own.” Linda settled back onto her pillow. “Now go on. I need a few more hours of beauty sleep.” She yawned and rolled over.
