Second Chance Girl
Page 9
The thought of her designer-wearing mother walking on the savanna made Carol smile. It also reminded her she should call in the next few days.
Carol walked into the low, one-story building and waved at the receptionist.
“They’re in back,” Nellie told her. “Giggling over something.”
Carol grinned. She doubted her dad and uncle were actually giggling but they could be laughing or chuckling or lobbing crushed aluminum cans into a recycling bin.
She paused at the doorway to their shared office and saw the two men were, in fact, working. Her dad, a tall man with red hair and brown eyes, studied his computer screen intently. Ted, a near carbon-copy of Ed, was on the phone, gesturing as he spoke. Ted saw her first. He waved her in and winked. Her dad looked up and smiled.
“How’s my best girl?” he asked as he rose and held out his arms. Carol rushed toward him and hugged him back.
For as long as she could remember, her dad had been there for her. He’d loved her and supported her, just as he had Violet. To him they were both his best girl.
Ted hung up and joined them. She received another bear hug from him. Unlike his brother, Ted had never married. He always said that Carol and Violet were his girls, too. They were, in the brothers’ eyes, beautiful and special.
Carol still remembered the shock of her first day of school when she’d foolishly told everyone that she was special. The other children had quickly disabused her of the notion. When she’d said they were wrong, one of the boys had punched her in the face, bloodying her nose. They’d both been sent home in tears.
For nearly three years Carol had fought against the truth her classmates had been determined she see. When her parents split up and her world got scary, she’d been forced to accept that maybe special was too strong a word. Maybe she was just like everyone else. On her worst days, she feared she was actually less. And that truth had defined the rest of her life.
“We’re starting a classic computer division,” Ted told her as they sat down. Carol took the chair between the two desks where she could see them both. “Old computers are hot right now. The techie folks love them. Some we’re fixing up and some we’re selling for parts. I’m hoping we can expand the business in that direction so we can stop off-loading our old electronics to third world countries.”
Her dad shook his head and sighed. Carol held in a smile. Once Ted got going on exporting used electronics, he was hard to stop.
“Did you want to tell Carol why we asked her to stop by?” her father asked. “Or should I?”
Ted blinked, as if he’d forgotten the point of her visit. “What? Oh, right. You do it.”
Her father leaned toward her. “Your uncle and I have a donation for Millie’s fund.” He opened his desk drawer and handed her a check.
Shortly after Millie had arrived, Carol had realized the sweet giraffe was lonely and needed a herd. The cost to bring three or four female giraffes to Happily Inc, including transportation, additions to the barn and care and feeding for a year would be nearly half a million dollars. Way more than she had in loose change in her sofa cushions. She had nearly seventy-five thousand dollars from her fund-raising efforts. Only four hundred and twenty-five thousand to go.
“Thank you,” she said before she glanced at the amount, then nearly fell off her chair when she saw the check was for fifty thousand dollars. “Oh my God! How did you do this? Are you sure? Are you not going to eat for the rest of your lives?”
Ted grinned at her. “We’ll be eating, I promise. Business has been good. We have a couple of new contracts with other cities to handle their recycling. Your dad and I aren’t giving up anything, Carol. We want to help. We believe in Millie and we believe in you.”
She had to blink back unexpected tears. “Thank you,” she murmured before scrambling to her feet and racing over to hug them both. “I can’t believe it. This is huge!”
“You’re a good girl,” her father told her, his voice gruff. “We’re proud of you and what you’ve done with the animals here. Millie needs a herd. This is our way of getting you and her closer to that.”
“Thank you so much. I’m working on other fund-raising plans and I’m talking to a few people about holding a bake sale over the holidays.”
The brothers exchanged a glance as if thinking that was nowhere near enough. She knew that, too, but didn’t have any other ideas. She’d studied zoo management and animal care in college, not fund-raising. She’d interned at zoos, not nonprofits, which left her qualified for her job but with no clue as to how to raise enough to get Millie her herd.
“I’ll look online,” she told them. “I’m inspired to come up with better ideas.”
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS CLOSE to five and the sun was sinking on the horizon by the time Carol was able to drive home. She’d already put out the feed and done a check on the animals. One of the gamekeepers would usher everyone back into their barns and make sure they were settled for the night. She preferred to take the morning shift so she could check on them all before they headed out for their day.
Running a small but vibrant animal preserve took money and time. Visitors and grants provided the funds required for day-to-day operations. Unfortunately she couldn’t find a grant that covered acquiring giraffes—otherwise she would have already applied.
She rounded a curve in the road, then put on her brakes when she saw Mathias walking Sophie up ahead. The dog looked delighted, her nose to the ground as she sniffed every inch, her tail waving happily like a doggie banner. Mathias seemed more resigned than pleased. He brightened when he saw her and hurried toward the car.
For a second Carol allowed herself to believe that he was happy to see her specifically, rather than anyone who might distract him from his still new-to-him roommate.
He and Sophie walked around to the passenger side. She unlocked the door and he slid in, then picked up Sophie and set her on his lap.
“Save me,” he said, then closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
Carol laughed. “I suppose you asking me to save you is better than you offering Sophie to me.”
“I would if I thought you’d take her. She’s exhausting. She’s full of energy, curious about everything, won’t listen and is constantly begging for food. Other than that, it’s great.”
“Poor Mathias. Twenty-four hours down, only seven hundred and twenty to go.”
He groaned. “I’ll never make it.”
“Sure you will.” She reached out and rubbed Sophie’s soft ears. The adorable beagle gave her a quick kiss, then wagged her tail as if asking where they were going next.
“Would it help if I drove you home?” Carol asked.
Mathias looked at her. “Yes, please. And if you could take Sophie off my hands, that would be even better.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine.” He closed the door and fastened his seat belt. “Then stay for dinner. I’m going to barbecue steaks. You’ll have to watch yours, though. As I learned at lunch, a turned back is an invitation. Someone stole my chicken burrito. I don’t want to imagine what I’ll be picking up in the morning, after she does her business.”
Dinner with Mathias? She’d been in his house before, but never over for a meal. What was he—
She laughed. “You’re afraid to be alone with her!”
Carol walked into the low, one-story building and waved at the receptionist.
“They’re in back,” Nellie told her. “Giggling over something.”
Carol grinned. She doubted her dad and uncle were actually giggling but they could be laughing or chuckling or lobbing crushed aluminum cans into a recycling bin.
She paused at the doorway to their shared office and saw the two men were, in fact, working. Her dad, a tall man with red hair and brown eyes, studied his computer screen intently. Ted, a near carbon-copy of Ed, was on the phone, gesturing as he spoke. Ted saw her first. He waved her in and winked. Her dad looked up and smiled.
“How’s my best girl?” he asked as he rose and held out his arms. Carol rushed toward him and hugged him back.
For as long as she could remember, her dad had been there for her. He’d loved her and supported her, just as he had Violet. To him they were both his best girl.
Ted hung up and joined them. She received another bear hug from him. Unlike his brother, Ted had never married. He always said that Carol and Violet were his girls, too. They were, in the brothers’ eyes, beautiful and special.
Carol still remembered the shock of her first day of school when she’d foolishly told everyone that she was special. The other children had quickly disabused her of the notion. When she’d said they were wrong, one of the boys had punched her in the face, bloodying her nose. They’d both been sent home in tears.
For nearly three years Carol had fought against the truth her classmates had been determined she see. When her parents split up and her world got scary, she’d been forced to accept that maybe special was too strong a word. Maybe she was just like everyone else. On her worst days, she feared she was actually less. And that truth had defined the rest of her life.
“We’re starting a classic computer division,” Ted told her as they sat down. Carol took the chair between the two desks where she could see them both. “Old computers are hot right now. The techie folks love them. Some we’re fixing up and some we’re selling for parts. I’m hoping we can expand the business in that direction so we can stop off-loading our old electronics to third world countries.”
Her dad shook his head and sighed. Carol held in a smile. Once Ted got going on exporting used electronics, he was hard to stop.
“Did you want to tell Carol why we asked her to stop by?” her father asked. “Or should I?”
Ted blinked, as if he’d forgotten the point of her visit. “What? Oh, right. You do it.”
Her father leaned toward her. “Your uncle and I have a donation for Millie’s fund.” He opened his desk drawer and handed her a check.
Shortly after Millie had arrived, Carol had realized the sweet giraffe was lonely and needed a herd. The cost to bring three or four female giraffes to Happily Inc, including transportation, additions to the barn and care and feeding for a year would be nearly half a million dollars. Way more than she had in loose change in her sofa cushions. She had nearly seventy-five thousand dollars from her fund-raising efforts. Only four hundred and twenty-five thousand to go.
“Thank you,” she said before she glanced at the amount, then nearly fell off her chair when she saw the check was for fifty thousand dollars. “Oh my God! How did you do this? Are you sure? Are you not going to eat for the rest of your lives?”
Ted grinned at her. “We’ll be eating, I promise. Business has been good. We have a couple of new contracts with other cities to handle their recycling. Your dad and I aren’t giving up anything, Carol. We want to help. We believe in Millie and we believe in you.”
She had to blink back unexpected tears. “Thank you,” she murmured before scrambling to her feet and racing over to hug them both. “I can’t believe it. This is huge!”
“You’re a good girl,” her father told her, his voice gruff. “We’re proud of you and what you’ve done with the animals here. Millie needs a herd. This is our way of getting you and her closer to that.”
“Thank you so much. I’m working on other fund-raising plans and I’m talking to a few people about holding a bake sale over the holidays.”
The brothers exchanged a glance as if thinking that was nowhere near enough. She knew that, too, but didn’t have any other ideas. She’d studied zoo management and animal care in college, not fund-raising. She’d interned at zoos, not nonprofits, which left her qualified for her job but with no clue as to how to raise enough to get Millie her herd.
“I’ll look online,” she told them. “I’m inspired to come up with better ideas.”
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS CLOSE to five and the sun was sinking on the horizon by the time Carol was able to drive home. She’d already put out the feed and done a check on the animals. One of the gamekeepers would usher everyone back into their barns and make sure they were settled for the night. She preferred to take the morning shift so she could check on them all before they headed out for their day.
Running a small but vibrant animal preserve took money and time. Visitors and grants provided the funds required for day-to-day operations. Unfortunately she couldn’t find a grant that covered acquiring giraffes—otherwise she would have already applied.
She rounded a curve in the road, then put on her brakes when she saw Mathias walking Sophie up ahead. The dog looked delighted, her nose to the ground as she sniffed every inch, her tail waving happily like a doggie banner. Mathias seemed more resigned than pleased. He brightened when he saw her and hurried toward the car.
For a second Carol allowed herself to believe that he was happy to see her specifically, rather than anyone who might distract him from his still new-to-him roommate.
He and Sophie walked around to the passenger side. She unlocked the door and he slid in, then picked up Sophie and set her on his lap.
“Save me,” he said, then closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
Carol laughed. “I suppose you asking me to save you is better than you offering Sophie to me.”
“I would if I thought you’d take her. She’s exhausting. She’s full of energy, curious about everything, won’t listen and is constantly begging for food. Other than that, it’s great.”
“Poor Mathias. Twenty-four hours down, only seven hundred and twenty to go.”
He groaned. “I’ll never make it.”
“Sure you will.” She reached out and rubbed Sophie’s soft ears. The adorable beagle gave her a quick kiss, then wagged her tail as if asking where they were going next.
“Would it help if I drove you home?” Carol asked.
Mathias looked at her. “Yes, please. And if you could take Sophie off my hands, that would be even better.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine.” He closed the door and fastened his seat belt. “Then stay for dinner. I’m going to barbecue steaks. You’ll have to watch yours, though. As I learned at lunch, a turned back is an invitation. Someone stole my chicken burrito. I don’t want to imagine what I’ll be picking up in the morning, after she does her business.”
Dinner with Mathias? She’d been in his house before, but never over for a meal. What was he—
She laughed. “You’re afraid to be alone with her!”
