Stars in the Grass by Ann Marie Stewart

Author:Ann Marie Stewart [Stewart, Ann Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-63409-952-3
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2017-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Every tax season Miss Patti’s house looks like a tornado hit, but this year was the worst. She had long ago converted her living room into her office. Every available horizontal space was covered with manila file folders and paperwork labeled with the names of almost everybody in Bethel Springs. Though it looked disorderly, Miss Patti seemed to know where everything was. I was in awe. She also knew everything about everybody, but with Miss Patti you knew your secret was well kept. She was the most private person I knew.

When Miss Patti came down with what she called the February flu, Mom took over. Miss Patti said she felt so awful, she couldn’t get up the stairs to her bedroom and instead collapsed on the couch of her office, the one place not yet occupied by files.

“Renee, you really need to leave. I don’t want to make y’all sick.”

“You need some help, Patti. Tell me what to do.”

“Only if Abby leaves,” Patti said. Mom nodded in agreement but I didn’t move. I knew she wouldn’t notice one way or the other. “Maybe if you could hand me a few files, I could work on them here on the couch. I need to get started on some of these right away,” Miss Patti added, vaguely waving her hand in the direction of a stack of files. Miss Patti looked flushed and unable to focus.

“Tell me the names,” Mom asked, eager to help.

“Hindrichs. Try the third drawer down in the file cabinet. And then pick up that blue notebook from the end of the table.” She wiped her sweaty brow and Mom frowned.

“You don’t need to do anything right now except get better,” Mom said. “You should take it easy.”

“It’s tax season,” Miss Patti argued. “I can’t.”

“Then you’re going to need help,” Mom said. “I think I can do it.” To me she added, “Abby, you need to go home now. Miss Patti’s right. You might get sick.”

“And I’m paying you,” Miss Patti said, as if not giving up without getting her way. “We’re both getting a deal out of this.” She sighed and leaned back on the couch. Rita nodded at me. We were getting a good deal, too.

Mom began spending each day at Miss Patti’s, leaving our house after making breakfast for Matt and me. Miss Patti was down for days, and then had to play catch-up. She had Mom typing, filing, running numbers, and filling out forms. Mom’s heels would click across the floor, and Patti would roll her office chair to various file cabinets, opening and shutting drawers with a swish and a click. Mom didn’t come home after school, and so I often joined her at Miss Patti’s, where Rita and I did our homework at her kitchen table.

Most of the time, it was quiet in the living room, but sometimes the two of them laughed. And when they did, we tried to listen in but were always too late for the punch line. Mom was efficient and organized, and finding accounting a better fit than accompanying.

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