At Home on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [53]
“Mom!” Lori insisted.
Cici said, “Excuse me, we’re a little disorganized this morning.” She flashed the visitors a reassuring smile as she hurried toward the stairs. “There isn’t really ice in the toilet.” Then, “For heaven’s sake, Lori, use my bathroom!”
Mrs. Boynton said severely, “Your sheep are wearing coats while your children are freezing. Young man, do you have a coat? Or shoes?”
To which Noah returned sulkily, “What’s it to you?”
“Noah!” Lindsay said sharply. She took a breath. “Go get dressed. And don’t be late for breakfast,“ she added, loudly, as he turned away. She offered a weak apologetic smile to the social workers. “Teenagers,” she said.
Carrie cleared her throat. “I can see we’ve come at a bad time.” She glanced toward the staircase, where Cici was hustling Derrick and Paul back to their room, whispering to them frantically. “But you understand the point of this visit was to see how you really live.”
“But we really don’t live like this at all,” Lindsay objected. “We really live very nice quiet lives.”
Bridget stepped forward, laying a calming hand on Lindsay’s arm, smiling graciously. “I know we haven’t made a very good first impression, but maybe you’d like to have a cup of coffee while we freshen up and get ourselves organized? Ida Mae,” she called, but Ida Mae was already there, marching a tray filled with coffee cups toward the living room.
Lindsay scurried ahead of her, snatching up the wineglasses, empty bottles, and empty snack bowls from the night before. “Nightmare,” she muttered to Bridget as she passed, doing her ineffectual best to hide the empties in the folds of her house-coat. “This is a freakin’ nightmare.” And then she called brightly over her shoulder, “We’ll be right back. Make yourselves at home!”
Upstairs, they found Paul and Derrick tossing through their luggage with an air of purpose while Noah, across the hall, assured them, “I ain’t putting on no tie for no stupid social worker! You can’t make me!”
“Cici told us,” Paul assured Lindsay as she passed. “Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control.”
“Found it!” declared Derrick, holding up a red tie triumphantly.
“You . . . ” Bridget grabbed Derrick’s arm and propelled him toward the stairs. “Go downstairs and be charming. You . . .” She pushed Paul toward Noah’s room. “Do what you can to make him presentable. No tie!” she called over her shoulder as she hurried past.
Within ten minutes Cici, Bridget, and Lindsay came back down the stairs wearing jeans and sweaters, their hair brushed and their lipstick applied, with smiles that were as hastily applied as their makeup. The two social workers were sipping coffee in the living room, where Derrick’s charm was having a good effect on Carrie, but left the older woman utterly unmoved. He had managed to get a fire started in the fireplace from last night’s embers, and the dancing glow was beginning to dispel some of the room’s gloom.
“Noah will be down in a minute,” Lindsay said pleasantly, smoothing her hands on her jeans as she sat down in one of the wing chairs across from the social workers. “Things are always a little hectic around here in the morning.”
“But not usually as hectic as this,” Cici assured them quickly. “You see we stayed up late . . .”
“Yes, your friend was just explaining that,” Carrie said.
“We don’t get to see each other very often,” Lindsay added.
“Ladies, may I refill your cups?” offered Derrick, half standing.
Mrs. Boynton put her cup deliberately on the coffee table and took up her clipboard, ignoring him. Carrie covered her cup with her hand, smiling her refusal.
Lindsay said, “I’m not shy, if you’re pouring.”
Mrs. Boynton sat straight in her chair, shoulders square and not touching the back. Her formal tone and stern expression matched her posture as she announced, “The purpose of this visit is to inspect the premises on which the minor child resides, and to assess his living situation for the purpose of judging its suitability. We will be interviewing all members of the household, as well as the child.” She