Sliding the plate out of the way, Pam opened the folder to pull out a sheaf of papers. She flipped them over and slid them across the table, along with a pen pulled from an apron pocket, before excusing herself to help Hamlin finish restocking the mobile bakery.
Though she busied herself for the next ten minutes, Pam’s gaze weighed heavy on Adriel every time she passed by. She kept one eye on the folder while simultaneously appraising a tray of maple glazed donuts studded with bits of bacon Wiletta slid into a spotlessly polished glass case.
A good ten minutes passed before Adriel pulled the folder open to leaf through its contents, reading each sheet of paper carefully before returning it to the pile. Finding gainful employment was going to be a lot harder than she thought.
“Something wrong?” Pam ignored Hamlin, who was making exaggerated gestures toward his watch in an attempt to hurry things along.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Adriel flipped the folder closed with a final pat.
“It’s a standard W-2 and an employment history. What parts are giving you trouble?”
“All of it. I can’t give you my former address, or any of the forms of identification on the list, and my employment history only includes a very long but unpaid position.”
“So you are in trouble.”
“Not exactly.” A dull throb pulsed painfully in Adriel’s temple. What could she say that would sound plausible? She didn’t want to prevaricate but who would believe the entire truth? Saying “I am an angel who fell out of heaven and I forgot to bring my wallet” was more likely to land her in trouble than get her a job. Not least because she had never owned a wallet in the first place.
“This is my first day as a…here.” Could I sound more stupid? Adriel wondered. She stood to leave, “I’ve been turned out from my home, and now I am adrift in the world with nothing but the clothes on my back. Your sign said you need help, and I can help, but not if I have to fill out the forms or answer questions about my past. Tell me what I can do to repay you for the food before I leave.” The words came out of her in a rush. It was the best she had to offer and it was a total failure. She was a total failure.
For a moment there was silence as Pam flashed her best pointed stare, presumably to search for evidence of a lie. Chin up with just a hint of pride, Adriel stood firm under the scrutiny. Her words were the simple truth, or as much of it as she felt safe to provide. She turned toward the door.
“No, stay. I’m not sending you out to live in the street.” Not when you clearly wouldn’t last a day. That last bit Pam kept to herself, but no special powers were needed to read between those lines. “I have an idea if you’re willing to work for room and board.”
“Thank you.” Grateful tears stung Adriel’s eyes for a second before she blinked them back. “Room and board? What kind of board? Like oak or cherry?”
Pam rolled her eyes. “Look, I own a small cabin about half a mile from here. It needs work and a good cleaning, but you can stay there rent free in return for a bit of DIY.”
“DIY?”
“Do It Yourself—fixing up the place. It’s not much but it has the basic amenities and the roof doesn’t leak, so you’ll be warm and dry.”
“Is that where the board comes in? You want me to use it to fix up the cabin?” Okay, so a millennium around humans had not provided Adriel with every concept.
Pam grinned, “Room and board means I’ll supply your meals in return for the work on the cabin—where you will stay.” She tilted her head, “You’ll need a little spending money, too. If you can work a cash register and handle a tray, you can take the lunch crowd a couple days a week—as long as you don’t mind working for tips. We serve soup and sandwiches from 11 am to 2 pm every day. You can fill in on the days we do an afternoon run in the truck.”
“Tips?”
“When you provide good service, people pay extra money like a reward. Where did you say you came from again?”
This topic needed to be put to rest. “Somewhere far away from here where it seems I am no longer welcome.” Pam reached across the table to give Adriel’s hand a pat. Sympathy flowed through the touch of her skin, “You’ll tell me about it when you’re ready, but for now, I don’t need to know.”
With the decision made, Pam pushed away from the table and got back to business.
“Hamlin, go on ahead with the truck. I’ll get Adriel settled and meet you in Saint’s Square.” She hustled Adriel out the door and into a Jeep parked a few spaces away..
The moment the door shut behind her passenger, Pam stabbed the gas. The Jeep shot down the street like a rocket. A little over half a mile later, she tromped on the brake with equal force and whipped into a short, rutted driveway where Adriel got the first glimpse of her new home. Cabin had been a kind word for the building. Shack would have been more appropriate. Honestly, hovel wasn’t far off the mark.
What little paint had once coated the weathered exterior had deteriorated to no more than peeled shavings still in the process of being whisked from the surface by the wind. A pair of non-matching windows flanked the door, one painted red and the other blue. Still, the roof line was straight, and the porch floor felt solid and true.
Turning the key in the lock, Pam shot a sympathetic look over her shoulder and cautioned, “The last person to live here was a pack rat. Just be warned.” The door
