“Ms. Hicks?” An unnaturally blond girl, with a clump of hair humped on top of her head held in place by a gold clasp, called my name. Her bright smile and piercing grayish-blue eyes—reminded me of a Siberian husky—caught my attention right away. I liked her modest denim skirt with a flared red blouse. She looked like a first-year teacher, all cheerful and untarnished by reality.
“Right here.” I pushed off my chair’s arm to stand.Gracious, I am oldfor realfor real.
“Hi, I’m Jennifer. I’ll be your liaison. Come this way.”
“Thank you.”
I followed her and the floral scent of her body spray down a narrow hallway, past two more liaisons with name tags outside their offices who were busy talking on their phones. Once inside Jennifer’s office, I realized how bare the other two offices seemed in comparison. Jennifer, again in true new-teacher style, had decorated hers with an array of brightly colored posters, each bearing sports-inspired motivational quotes. A small, lush plant sat happily in a sunlit corner of the desk, its green leaves adding a touch of life to the room. On her desk, a collection of quirky, fun-shaped paperweights held down a neat stack of papers, and a ceramic mug painted with cheerful sunflowers served as a pen holder. She also had several pictures of what I assumed were family members. Her parents, one brother, and grandparents.
Jennifer had made this 10x10 office her own. It made me feel right at home.
She got straight into the work. “I read through the information you supplied online, and I’m hoping we can help.”
“Me, too, because I have a lot that needs to be done.”
“Let’s get started.”
I showed her the email from Southern Sons, my receipt for Celestia, my banking information, my first few paycheck stubs, my rental contract with Gabriella—everything she asked for to document my case, income, and expenses. I gave her information about my bank accounts, my next of kin. Everything except my shoe size. She worked with clinical precision. Her fingers typedrapidly on the keyboard while her other hand flipped through the pages I’d presented like she was sorting laundry.
Jennifer entered the information and figures into the computer. She had two screens open: one for typing, and one for reference. Turns out, that new-teacher feel meant new SLAP liaison. The book was open, and she intended to follow those guidelines with integrity.
“Hmm.” She paused and bit her thumb. Her brow furrowed as her eyes scanned the figures, and a flicker of something unreadable passing across her face. “It looks like you don’t have enough money.”
I nodded. “Yes. That’s why I’m here, for help with the remodeling.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, you don’t have enough money for your daily living expenses.Beforethe remodel.”
“My bills are paid on time.”
“What about food? Electricity? Emergency funds?” Her perfume seemed to thicken the air.
“Thisismy emergency, and I’ve come here for funding,” I said.
Jennifer’s eyes scanned the screens again. Then she faced me, her eyes drooping with sympathy. “Ms. Hicks, according to our calculations, you are living below the poverty level.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time an old, single woman found herself in this predicament.” I laughed, hoping she’d join me. But she didn’t.
I swiped the smile off my face. “I’m a bit short for now,” I said. “But when I turn sixty-two, I’ll start drawing my full teacher pension. I just have to make it until then. I’m trying not to touch my savings any more if I don’t have to. If I keep my job at the recreation center, I’ll be fine, don’t you think?”
She pursed her lips. Sighed. “What about the fire with the original oven?”
“There was nofire,” I corrected her. “It was an overheated burner. My tenant took care of everything.”
I could tell by the way her eyes stayed steady on me that she didn’t believe me. “Speaking of your tenant. She’s paying way less than market value for her side of the duplex.”
“I know. That’s because when I originally advertised it, I thought there’d be two separate units. I lowered the amount significantly when I realized I’d made a mistake in the advertisement,” I admitted. “Anyway, Robin Creek is a small town. People help each other out. I was just glad to get someone willing to stay, since I didn’t complete the duplex.”
Jennifer shook her head slightly. “I hate to say this, but your tenant may be taking advantage of you, Ms. Hicks. It’s quite common for people to underpay senior citizens.”
A wave of irritation washed over me, my jaw tightened, and my hands clenched into fists in my lap. The only person starting fires was Jennifer, with her suggestion that I was being exploited, coupled with the underlying insinuation that my age made me inherently vulnerable.What kind of training did she get for this job?“I assure you that Gabriella is not taking advantage of me. And I may not have much disposable income, but there are plenty of people making it on much less. Is it a crime to be poor these days?”
She gave me a patronizing smile. And then she asked, in that slow, kindergartner-speak tone, “Have you suffered any falls? Or memory loss?”
My eyes narrowed as I fought to maintain my composure. “Jennifer, I don’t know exactly what you’re huntin’ for, but I assure you I can take care of myself. The time may come when I needsomeone else, but it ain’t today.” I reached across her paperweights and snatched back all my papers.
She jumped back, pressing against her seat cushion. “Ms. Hicks, it’s okay. I can get you help.”
“I don’t need help. I withdraw my request.”
