key. It had already been changed.
She stepped
backwards from the door and tripped on the box of her stuff. Her little safe
had to be in that box. She pulled out the blanket and the pillow and the bag of
Chex Mix again. She dug through the short stack of textbooks. She pulled out
the pile of fashion magazines that were actually Sam’s. No lock-box. No
emergency credit card. No place to sleep.
Jane looked down
at her rag-top Rabbit. Even with her winter coat on she was shivering in the
early March night air. She’d freeze to death if she tried to sleep in her car.
She grimaced. She wouldn’t actually freeze to death, but it would be really cold. She tapped the face of her cell phone. She wanted to call her daddy to
make it all better. He could pay for a hotel room over the phone, couldn’t he?
She paused. Her
parents were on a cruise. Did she really want to panic them in the middle of a
vacation they couldn’t leave?
Something Isaac
said over coffee came to mind. Sometimes serving others meets our own needs
in ways we didn’t anticipate.
Isaac wouldn’t
have wanted her to move in with Jake, would he? Could that have been the
message God was sending her?
Jane sat down and
folded her cold hands. She closed her eyes. “Okay, God.” This time she prayed
out loud. “I don’t want to move into the Crawford house. I don’t want to live
in the same house alone with Jake. I don’t want to be a live-in housekeeper,
but is this your plan? Is this what you meant for me to do?” Somewhere outside
of the apartment complex an owl hooted. Jane waited in silence until her legs
went numb.
She would go to
the Crawfords’ house because she had nowhere else to go.
In ten minutes she
had reached the Crawford house. She pulled into the side drive and parked
around back by the mudroom door. One hundred years ago, when the house had been
built, it was considered the servants’ door. Very appropriate. She left her car
in the little round drive where Pamela had directed her to park on the days she
worked.
The whole house,
like her small apartment, was dark. She didn’t want to go in. The night
couldn’t have been warmer than thirty and the cold nipped at her cheeks as she
sat in her car.
There was an
empty, warm bed inside that house. There was probably an old school friend
inside that house, and according to the luggage she saw today, there was a
dragon in that house.
Jane shivered from
cold. Marjory might be a dragon, but she was asleep. The cold night was awake.
She let herself
into the mudroom and took her shoes off. She tucked them under the bench and
shuffled in her sock feet to the door. She pulled the door open slowly, hoping
it wouldn’t groan. It didn’t. She was desperate to get in unnoticed. This
morning’s invitation might well have been forgotten. Or the inviter might
already be gone.
She debated which
bedroom to take herself to as she made her way to the bottom of the back steps.
The third floor of the Crawford house was mostly the original ballroom, but
behind the ballroom were two small bedrooms for staff that the family who
originally built the house used to keep. Like the other bedrooms, they were
dust-free and had fresh linens. Barring the bodies in the master bedroom, the
Crawford house was always ready for company.
The third step of
the back stairs squeaked, but otherwise the trip up the first flight of stairs
was uneventful.
The second flight
of stairs squeaked twice at the top so there was no getting away from it. She
reached the first of the servants’ bedrooms and slipped in. She shut the door
behind her with a click and sat on the bed. It was just after midnight now. In the morning she had to go clean the neighbor’s house. Possibly, if she was going
to be staying on here as some kind of live-in maid, she’d have to make
breakfast as well.
Jane shifted her
winter coat off. She plucked her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Jake’s
contact info. Better now than never. “GNite. CU AM”
She stepped
backwards from the door and tripped on the box of her stuff. Her little safe
had to be in that box. She pulled out the blanket and the pillow and the bag of
Chex Mix again. She dug through the short stack of textbooks. She pulled out
the pile of fashion magazines that were actually Sam’s. No lock-box. No
emergency credit card. No place to sleep.
Jane looked down
at her rag-top Rabbit. Even with her winter coat on she was shivering in the
early March night air. She’d freeze to death if she tried to sleep in her car.
She grimaced. She wouldn’t actually freeze to death, but it would be really cold. She tapped the face of her cell phone. She wanted to call her daddy to
make it all better. He could pay for a hotel room over the phone, couldn’t he?
She paused. Her
parents were on a cruise. Did she really want to panic them in the middle of a
vacation they couldn’t leave?
Something Isaac
said over coffee came to mind. Sometimes serving others meets our own needs
in ways we didn’t anticipate.
Isaac wouldn’t
have wanted her to move in with Jake, would he? Could that have been the
message God was sending her?
Jane sat down and
folded her cold hands. She closed her eyes. “Okay, God.” This time she prayed
out loud. “I don’t want to move into the Crawford house. I don’t want to live
in the same house alone with Jake. I don’t want to be a live-in housekeeper,
but is this your plan? Is this what you meant for me to do?” Somewhere outside
of the apartment complex an owl hooted. Jane waited in silence until her legs
went numb.
She would go to
the Crawfords’ house because she had nowhere else to go.
In ten minutes she
had reached the Crawford house. She pulled into the side drive and parked
around back by the mudroom door. One hundred years ago, when the house had been
built, it was considered the servants’ door. Very appropriate. She left her car
in the little round drive where Pamela had directed her to park on the days she
worked.
The whole house,
like her small apartment, was dark. She didn’t want to go in. The night
couldn’t have been warmer than thirty and the cold nipped at her cheeks as she
sat in her car.
There was an
empty, warm bed inside that house. There was probably an old school friend
inside that house, and according to the luggage she saw today, there was a
dragon in that house.
Jane shivered from
cold. Marjory might be a dragon, but she was asleep. The cold night was awake.
She let herself
into the mudroom and took her shoes off. She tucked them under the bench and
shuffled in her sock feet to the door. She pulled the door open slowly, hoping
it wouldn’t groan. It didn’t. She was desperate to get in unnoticed. This
morning’s invitation might well have been forgotten. Or the inviter might
already be gone.
She debated which
bedroom to take herself to as she made her way to the bottom of the back steps.
The third floor of the Crawford house was mostly the original ballroom, but
behind the ballroom were two small bedrooms for staff that the family who
originally built the house used to keep. Like the other bedrooms, they were
dust-free and had fresh linens. Barring the bodies in the master bedroom, the
Crawford house was always ready for company.
The third step of
the back stairs squeaked, but otherwise the trip up the first flight of stairs
was uneventful.
The second flight
of stairs squeaked twice at the top so there was no getting away from it. She
reached the first of the servants’ bedrooms and slipped in. She shut the door
behind her with a click and sat on the bed. It was just after midnight now. In the morning she had to go clean the neighbor’s house. Possibly, if she was going
to be staying on here as some kind of live-in maid, she’d have to make
breakfast as well.
Jane shifted her
winter coat off. She plucked her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Jake’s
contact info. Better now than never. “GNite. CU AM”
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