“Listen here. There’s nothing to cry about, okay? You’ll only be by yourself fifteen minutes.” She backed her way down the steps and out to the car.
“No, Mommy. Please don’t go.”
After sitting down in the front seat and closing the door, she rolled down her window. At first I thought it was so she could stick her head out and wave. But I was wrong. She put one of those smoky sticks to her lips and propped her elbow on the windowsill.
The engine roared as Babe screeched down the road and made a left on Mill Street toward the highway.
Suddenly the door flies open and Ellie hops on one foot back into the room wearing sweats and a long sleeve T-shirt. “Uhhh,” she moans, holding her toes.
“What happened?”
“I stubbed my big toe on Annie Laurie’s stupid orca. There’s no room for that giant thing and it’s totally in the way. She just uses it as a catchall for her dirty laundry.” She closes the door then crawls into her spot on my bed, against the wall.
I wrinkle my nose. “Poor you.”
She sighs, wraps herself underneath my comforter. “Oh well. What can you do?”
After a few seconds I look straight at her. “I’ve been thinking about how Miss Ophelia had cancer and didn’t know it. That’s, like, insane scary, Ellie.”
“I know.”
“Miss Pearl said something about her not having health insurance so she never went to the doctor. But she also said Miss Ophelia was stubborn. ‘Stubborn as an old grape-juice stain.’”
“Not even Obamacare?”
“Evidently not.” I reach over for the cooler cup resting on my nightstand and take a big swig.
“I wonder why she didn’t have health insurance. Does Miss Pearl have it?”
Swallowing in a hurry, I say, “I asked her that and she said no. Nobody on the staff has health insurance. Except Mama Carla.”
“Do you know why?” Ellie’s brows are knitted together.
“I asked her that, too. She said it’s not offered.”
Ellie scrambles up, leans her back against the wall. “That’s, like, so wrong. I wonder why that is?”
“I don’t know. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” We sit in silence another minute without talking. “Ellie?” I finally say.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we could, like, do something about it.” I sit up to face her.
“Like what?” She leans in toward me as if she can’t wait to hear what I’m thinking.
“What if everyone agreed to make benefits for our staff our pledge-class philanthropy project? I mean, think about it. They work so hard. They make sure everyone has amazing food—three meals a day—and that the House looks like a showplace. I know this is, like, an intangible, but look at Miss Pearl. She’s like a mom and she’s probably the nicest lady I’ve ever met. Honestly, and I’m not just saying this, I wish she was my mom.”
Ellie reaches over and touches my knee. “I’m glad you have her.”
“Wait till you get to know her. You’re gonna love her.”
“I know I will. My momadoresher. I can’t wait to know everyone who works at the House. Staff benefits is such a great idea.”
I take another sip of water. “I was thinking we could raise the money ourselves. At least for their health insurance.”
“How would we do that?”
“I don’t know, a big car wash, maybe? We did those for our high school cross country team.”
