Phoebe slowly advanced through the front atrium of Reverend Paulson's office, past the secretarial desk and the floor-to-ceiling, wall-length bookshelf facing the desk.
The room was quiet and dark, almost solemn. So quiet, in fact, that the only thing she heard was the faint hum of the fluorescent bulbs overhead.
“Have a seat.”
Phoebe eased into the comfy leather chair. It squished beneath her weight.
“Wait here for just a moment.”
Phoebe nodded silently as Reverend Paulson rose out of his seat and brushed by her as he exited the room. Phoebe sat silently, a little anxious and a little impatient. She shifted in her chair several times, moving her jacket to the chair beside her. She sat up, back, and up again. She pressed her knees together and tried to maintain a pleasant posture. After a few minutes and no sign of the Reverend, she slumped in her chair.
She immediately resumed her perfect posture as heels clicked at the end of the hallway. She could tell by the speed and sound of the gait that it was a woman’s heels. It was Rev. Krieger. Softer steps accompanied the rhythmic clicking of her heels. As the sound neared, it wasn’t just two sets of footsteps. It was several.
Phoebe was relieved when three people entered Reverend Paulson’s office. It was the entire ministry staff. Phoebe rose to greet them. Reverend Paulson motioned for her to return to her seat.
Greg, the Youth Minister, grabbed a chair from the front office and sat it next to the chair beside Phoebe. At the same time, he removed Phoebe’s jacket from its place and placed it on the coat hook over Reverend Paulson’s rain cloak. Reverend Krieger sat in the far chair. Greg sat between the Reverend and Phoebe.
“Phoebe, I think you know why we’re here.”
Phoebe nodded.
“When you didn’t show up yesterday, you put a fright in Reverend Krieger. Then, I reminded her about the series of talks you had to all of us. We thought you quit without telling us.”
“I don’t know,” said Phoebe.
“What do you mean? Do you want to quit?”
“I’m really confused right now.”
“To be honest, we need you,” confided the Reverend.
“I know…”
“The pay is low and the commitment is a big one. If you’re not willing to do it, we would have to try to make it work without you.”
“There should be someone willing to take the job.”
“There really isn’t,” said Rev. Krieger.
“You don’t seem like you care,” interjected Greg.
“Hold on, Greg, let’s give Phoebe the benefit of the doubt on this one. Phoebe, you know we can’t raise the wage and we can only change the schedule during the week. However, there is something…”Phoebe leaned toward him.
“We need a worker in the kitchen. We have an ‘Open Pantry’ every Tuesday and Friday where we cook and serve the homeless. Would you be interested in doing something like that?”
“What does it pay?”
Greg let out a groan.
“I mean, I’m just curious.”
“It’s only two more dollars an hour, but the shift lasts for 6-8 hours instead of just a few hours. On Friday, you can even choose to stay late and pick up hours for with the choir.”
“It could even be possible to change the Open Pantry to Wednesday or move the Wednesday choir practice to Tuesday so things line up better.”
“I don’t know why we’re bending over backwards,” argued Greg.
“It’s the right thing to do,” said Reverend Paulson.
Phoebe was utterly floored by the old pastors. When she objected to her work conditions, they were ready to make big changes.
“What would I do in the kitchen?”
“Everything from cooking to serving to cleaning.”
“It’s so much. Can I have time to think about it?”
Greg reclined into the seat back of his chair and folded his arms. Reverend Paulson simply nodded.
“You ready for another practice?” asked Reverend Krieger.
“Yes, I am.”
Everyone filed out of Reverend Paulson’s office. The good Reverend placed his hand at the base of Greg’s shirt collar and rested it there. It brought a strange sense of calm to Greg when he wanted to object to anything and everything that just happened. It was not how he would have handled it at all.
This flock, however, belonged to Reverend Paulson, which meant that he’d tend to his sheep in his own special way.Phoebe followed Rev. Krieger through the double doors of the chapel. The choir lounged in the first few pews closest to the pulpit, quietly talking among themselves. All heads turned when the doors opened. A hushed whispering traveled through the chorus as they noticed Phoebe coming down the aisle.
“Phoebe, will you please lead the choir?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Phoebe waited as the choir climbed the stairs and assembled on the altar platform.
“We’ll start with one of our standards, 'Lily of the Valley,'” said Phoebe as she took the baton from the music stand and grasped it firmly in her hand.
"I have found a friend in Jesus, He’s everything to me,
He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul;
The Lily of the Valley, in Him alone I see
All I need to cleanse and make me fully whole."
While Phoebe was finding herself near the pulpit, Portia was balancing the burdens of life and preparing for the adoption hearing. It began with her somewhat-court-appointed attorney, Mr. Unger.
"Thank you for seeing me," said Portia as she offered a hand.
"No problem. Aldene is an old friend of mine."
"I have to tell you, I'm not rich, but I will do what I can to pay you everything I owe you for your all your work."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Have you ever heard of pro bono work?”
Portia nodded, but looked at Mr. Unger expectantly.
“It means for free. Lawyers do pro bono for a variety of reasons. This case is easy, so don’t worry about it.”
"I can afford to pay you," insisted Portia, "it'll just take time."
"Let me worry about that. You need to concentrate on Penny - and your parents. Will they be able to come in and speak with me at some point?"
"I don't know. I think so."
"Just let them know it's very important that I do."
After her appointment with Mr. Unger and a full day of work, Portia went home and cornered her parents over dinner.
"Mom, I talked to Mr. Unger today."
"Okay, dear."
""He said he needs you and dad to make an appointment and see him this week. Can i count on you for that?"
"Who is Mr. Unger?"
"The attorney I spoke to today."
"I don't need to talk to any attorney."
"But he needs to go over some things about Penny."
"It's for Penny? Why didn't you say that?"
"What did you think I was talking about?"
"Oh, I don't know, honey. You talk about so many things. It makes my head spin."
"I'll set up an appointment for tomorrow, okay?"
"Why do we have to make an appointment? Why can't we just go?"
"He's busy, ma."
"And you don't think I'm busy? I have things to do, too."
"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"
"I don't know. I guess I have a little free time."
"Then I'll set it for tomorrow afternoon."
On Wednesday morning, Portia made the call and set up the appointment between Mr. Unger and her parents. She also took time between school and work to drop by the house and follow up with her mother. She had to, however, find a solution for Alex. She called the same daycare center that took care of Penny and made all the arrangements for that, too.
While Portia attended to the Pet Store, Mr. Unger did his best to attend to Mr. and Mrs. Gatteau. Victoria Gatteau, however, was about all he could handle. The molehill of Penny's adoption to the only viable caretakers, the baby's natural grandparents, became a mountain as Mr. Unger wrangled with Mrs. Gatteau.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Phoebe slowly advanced through the front atrium of Reverend Paulson's office, past the secretarial desk and the floor-to-ceiling, wall-length bookshelf facing the desk.
The room was quiet and dark, almost solemn. So quiet, in fact, that the only thing she heard was the faint hum of the fluorescent bulbs overhead.
“Have a seat.”
Phoebe eased into the comfy leather chair. It squished beneath her weight.
“Wait here for just a moment.”
Phoebe nodded silently as Reverend Paulson rose out of his seat and brushed by her as he exited the room. Phoebe sat silently, a little anxious and a little impatient. She shifted in her chair several times, moving her jacket to the chair beside her. She sat up, back, and up again. She pressed her knees together and tried to maintain a pleasant posture. After a few minutes and no sign of the Reverend, she slumped in her chair.
She immediately resumed her perfect posture as heels clicked at the end of the hallway. She could tell by the speed and sound of the gait that it was a woman’s heels. It was Rev. Krieger. Softer steps accompanied the rhythmic clicking of her heels. As the sound neared, it wasn’t just two sets of footsteps. It was several.
Phoebe was relieved when three people entered Reverend Paulson’s office. It was the entire ministry staff. Phoebe rose to greet them. Reverend Paulson motioned for her to return to her seat.
Greg, the Youth Minister, grabbed a chair from the front office and sat it next to the chair beside Phoebe. At the same time, he removed Phoebe’s jacket from its place and placed it on the coat hook over Reverend Paulson’s rain cloak. Reverend Krieger sat in the far chair. Greg sat between the Reverend and Phoebe.
“Phoebe, I think you know why we’re here.”
Phoebe nodded.
“When you didn’t show up yesterday, you put a fright in Reverend Krieger. Then, I reminded her about the series of talks you had to all of us. We thought you quit without telling us.”
“I don’t know,” said Phoebe.
“What do you mean? Do you want to quit?”
“I’m really confused right now.”
“To be honest, we need you,” confided the Reverend.
“I know…”
“The pay is low and the commitment is a big one. If you’re not willing to do it, we would have to try to make it work without you.”
“There should be someone willing to take the job.”
“There really isn’t,” said Rev. Krieger.
“You don’t seem like you care,” interjected Greg.
“Hold on, Greg, let’s give Phoebe the benefit of the doubt on this one. Phoebe, you know we can’t raise the wage and we can only change the schedule during the week. However, there is something…”Phoebe leaned toward him.
“We need a worker in the kitchen. We have an ‘Open Pantry’ every Tuesday and Friday where we cook and serve the homeless. Would you be interested in doing something like that?”
“What does it pay?”
Greg let out a groan.
“I mean, I’m just curious.”
“It’s only two more dollars an hour, but the shift lasts for 6-8 hours instead of just a few hours. On Friday, you can even choose to stay late and pick up hours for with the choir.”
“It could even be possible to change the Open Pantry to Wednesday or move the Wednesday choir practice to Tuesday so things line up better.”
“I don’t know why we’re bending over backwards,” argued Greg.
“It’s the right thing to do,” said Reverend Paulson.
Phoebe was utterly floored by the old pastors. When she objected to her work conditions, they were ready to make big changes.
“What would I do in the kitchen?”
“Everything from cooking to serving to cleaning.”
“It’s so much. Can I have time to think about it?”
Greg reclined into the seat back of his chair and folded his arms. Reverend Paulson simply nodded.
“You ready for another practice?” asked Reverend Krieger.
“Yes, I am.”
Everyone filed out of Reverend Paulson’s office. The good Reverend placed his hand at the base of Greg’s shirt collar and rested it there. It brought a strange sense of calm to Greg when he wanted to object to anything and everything that just happened. It was not how he would have handled it at all.
This flock, however, belonged to Reverend Paulson, which meant that he’d tend to his sheep in his own special way.
Phoebe followed Rev. Krieger through the double doors of the chapel. The choir lounged in the first few pews closest to the pulpit, quietly talking among themselves. All heads turned when the doors opened. A hushed whispering traveled through the chorus as they noticed Phoebe coming down the aisle.
“Phoebe, will you please lead the choir?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Phoebe waited as the choir climbed the stairs and assembled on the altar platform.
“We’ll start with one of our standards, 'Lily of the Valley,'” said Phoebe as she took the baton from the music stand and grasped it firmly in her hand.
"I have found a friend in Jesus, He’s everything to me,
He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul;
The Lily of the Valley, in Him alone I see
All I need to cleanse and make me fully whole."
While Phoebe was finding herself near the pulpit, Portia was balancing the burdens of life and preparing for the adoption hearing. It began with her somewhat-court-appointed attorney, Mr. Unger.
"Thank you for seeing me," said Portia as she offered a hand.
"No problem. Aldene is an old friend of mine."
"I have to tell you, I'm not rich, but I will do what I can to pay you everything I owe you for your all your work."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Have you ever heard of pro-bono work?”
Portia nodded, but looked at Mr. Unger expectantly.
“It means for free. Lawyers do pro-bono for a variety of reasons. This case is easy, so don’t worry about it.”
"I can afford to pay you," insisted Portia, "it'll just take time."
"Let me worry about that. You need to concentrate on Penny - and your parents. Will they be able to come in and speak with me at some point?"
"I don't know. I think so."
"Just let them know it's very important that I do."
After her appointment with Mr. Unger and a full day of work, Portia went home and cornered her parents over dinner.
"Mom, I talked to Mr. Unger today."
"Okay, dear."
""He said he needs you and dad to make an appointment and see him this week. Can I count on you for that?"
"Who is Mr. Unger?"
"The attorney I spoke to today."
"I don't need to talk to any attorney."
"But he needs to go over some things about Penny."
"It's for Penny? Why didn't you say that?"
"What did you think I was talking about?"
"Oh, I don't know, honey. You talk about so many things. It makes my head spin."
"I'll set up an appointment for tomorrow, okay?"
"Why do we have to make an appointment? Why can't we just go?"
"He's busy, ma."
"And you don't think I'm busy? I have things to do, too."
"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"
"I don't know. I guess I have a little free time."
"Then I'll set it for tomorrow afternoon."
On Wednesday morning, Portia made the call and set up the appointment between Mr. Unger and her parents. She also took time between school and work to drop by the house and follow up with her mother. She had to, however, find a solution for Alex. She called the same daycare center that took care of Penny and made all the arrangements for that, too.
While Portia attended to the Pet Store, Mr. Unger did his best to attend to Mr. and Mrs. Gatteau. Victoria Gatteau, however, was about all he could handle. The molehill of Penny's adoption to the only viable caretakers, the baby's natural grandparents, became a mountain as Mr. Unger wrangled with Mrs. Gatteau.
As Mr. Unger moved forward in his seat, Mrs. Gatteau pulled away. She clutched her purse in her lap with both hands. A tiny scowl crept along her lips.
"One of the first things we'll need you to do is get letters of recommendation from friends and associates."
"We? We who?"
"What?" said Mr. Unger.
"You said 'we need you to get letters. Do you have a mouse in your pocket?"
"Mrs. Gatteau..."
"Don't 'Mrs. Gatteau' me. I'm still strong enough to pull you across my knee. That fast lawyer talking doesn't impress me one bit."
"Um..."
"Vic," interrupted Mr. Gatteau, "let the man do his job."
"Hmph."
"We...I just need...the court just needs letters of recommendation to show you're a capable of raising this child."
"Mr. Unger, how many children do you have?"
Mr. Unger remained silent.
"This is MY grandchild. I raised three children from day one. I am experienced in the ways of being a caretaker, let me tell you right now."
"I understand..."
"Obviously you do not."
"Mr. Unger," Mr. Gatteau interrupted again, "I can get those letters for you."
Mrs. Gatteau simply scoffed.
"Luckily, your daughter Portia took care of all the paperwork. She filed the petition and Mrs. Jaygo arranged for a hearing. I also want..."
Mr. Unger paused.
"Yes?"
"I'll talk to your daughter. I think that's really all I need right now."
Mr. Unger stood up to shake Mr. and Mrs. Gatteaus hands. Mrs. Gatteau offered her hand daintily. Mr. Unger grasped her fingertips, unsure what to do next. He shook them and let go. Mrs. Gatteau turned sharply. Mr. Gatteau nodded to Mr. Unger, silently apologizing for his wife. It was a gesture Mr. Gatteau had perfected over the last twenty years.
After the Gatteaus left his office, Mr. Gatteau gave Portia a call.
"Hello?"
"Yes, hello Portia. This is Mr. Unger."
"What can I do for ya?"
"I spoke to your parents just now."
"And you survived my mother?"
"Well...I..."
Portia chuckled, "It's no problem. She is a work in progress. What do you need?"
"Can you make sure to collect letters of recommendation for your parents? I also need any work history, and I need to dress very formally for the hearing."
"I promise it won’t be a problem," said Portia.
"Good.”
“Is there anything else?”
“One last thing…we have to send a notice to all interested parties. That means the birth mother.”
Portia groaned.
“What is it?”
“She’s against the adoption.”
“But she’s in prison. The court may allow her to attend the hearing, but she can’t keep custody while she’s incarcerated. Really, she shouldn’t be any problem at all.”
“Good.”
“Like I said, just take care of your mother and I’ll do the rest.”
Portia’s spirits were high as she left Mr. Unger’s office. It was the best news she’d received in a long, long time.
.
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