A Year on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [112]
“Oh, we wouldn’t ask,” Bridget assured her.
“I’d be embarrassed, too,” Cici agreed, and they both watched her with carefully reserved judgment, waiting.
“He has a new job,” Lindsay said, “as administrator of a new charter school for the arts. He offered me a position.”
“In Baltimore?” Cici said.
Lindsay nodded.
Bridget said, “Wow.”
“That’s what I said,” replied Lindsay.
Again they waited, watching her, trying to read answers on her face. “And?” Cici prompted finally. “What did you tell him?”
Lindsay shrugged. “Nothing. I was hardly even listening.” A quick smile. “After all, I don’t see how I can teach school in Baltimore when I live in Virginia, right?”
It was meant to be reassuring, but they both noticed she didn’t quite meet their eyes when she said it.
There was a shuffling and a clattering at the top of the stairs, and Ida Mae edged the door open, her shoulders sagging under the weight of a laden tray. “Got your lunch,” she announced, and it sounded like a challenge. “Although why you think I should be hauling food up and down them stairs at my age . . .”
“That was sweet of you, Ida Mae,” Cici said as Lindsay and Bridget hurried to help.
And Bridget insisted, taking the tray, “You didn’t have to make lunch, Ida Mae. I was coming to do it.”
“Yours is on the stove,” she told Bridget. “Besides, I didn’t make it. Some of them women from the church brought by casseroles. Damn busybodies. Like we can’t do for ourselves.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and brought out some envelopes. “Some cards came in the mail, too.”
“Which church?” Bridget wanted to know, and Lindsay took the cards.
“Oh look, Cici, all these cards. Isn’t that nice?”
Cici smiled weakly but did not reach for the cards. “Maybe I’ll look at them later.”
Lindsay hesitated, then left the mail on the bedside table.
Bridget said, “Do you want me to set your lunch up on the table here by the fireplace? You know the doctor wants you to get up four or five times a day.”
Cici said, “It’s too cold to get out of bed. And it really hurts my back to sit in that chair. Do you mind?”
“Oh honey, of course not.” Bridget fussed with pouring her tea and arranging the legs of the bed tray across Cici’s lap, and Lindsay tucked a napkin into the top of her pajamas. Ida Mae stirred up the fire.
“It looks good,” Bridget said. “Are those pimentos?”
Lindsay said, “Do you want me to read the cards to you while you eat?”
“You two go down and get some lunch,” Cici said. “I’ll be fine.”
Bridget squeezed her hand and Lindsay kissed her hair. “Make sure she eats,” Bridget said to Ida Mae and Lindsay gave her a worried look before she closed the door.
“Well then,” said Ida Mae, straightening up from the fire and giving her a smug look. “Guess that’ll teach you. The roof ain’t no place for a lady.”
Cici picked up her fork, set it down again, and leaned back against the pillows. “Will you take this away, Ida Mae? I’m really not very hungry.”
“You’re feeling sorry for yourself, is what you are. And you’re not going to let that food go to waste—even if it ain’t as good as I could’ve made myself.”
And, since it was apparent that Ida Mae was going to stand there, glaring at Cici with her arms folded across her chest until Cici ate her lunch, Cici took a couple of bites of the chicken casserole and drank some tea.
“That’s my pie there,” Ida Mae said with a curt nod at the slice of pecan pie on the tray.
Cici tasted it, and tried to smile. “It’s really good.”
“Made it for Thanksgiving,” Ida Mae pointed out. “Of course, nobody was here to eat it, thanks to you falling off the roof.”
“It wasn’t my idea, Ida Mae.” Cici put down the fork, balled her napkin atop the tray, and leaned back against the pillows again.
Ida Mae took the tray and set it on the floor by the door. “I reckon you girls’ll be selling out, then.”
Cici, trying to get comfortable, grimaced as she shifted her weight against the pillows. “What makes you say that?”
“Plain as day, you bit off more than you can chew.” She shrugged. “A place like this, it’s way too much for a bunch of women to