I heard a door close.
'Mrs. Fairmont,' I called out. 'Good morning. It's Tami.'
The elderly woman appeared, wearing an elegant green robe and slippers. Her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed. She blinked her eyes and peered down the stairs.
'Where's Gracie?' she asked. 'Are you her helper?'
'No ma am. I'm Tami Taylor. You're letting me live in the basement apartment this summer while I work for Mr. Braddock's law firm.'
Mrs. Fairmont rubbed the side of her face. 'My mind is foggy this morning.'
'I'm leaving for work in a few minutes. Is there anything I can do for you?'
'Did you make the coffee?'
'No ma'am. Would you like some?'
'That would be nice. Cream and sugar.'
Mrs. Fairmont shuffled away from the top of the stairs. Flip followed her. I went into the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. I checked the clock. I wanted to get to the office promptly at 8:00 a.m. and wasn't sure exactly how long it would take to get there on foot. I didn't want to be late, but I was living in the house to serve Mrs. Fairmont's needs. I watched the coffee begin to drip into the bottom of the pot. While I waited, I wrote a note that I left on the kitchen counter, thanking Gracie for renovating the downstairs apartment and telling her how much I looked forward to meeting her.
As soon as enough coffee dripped down, I poured a cup and added cream and sugar. I held the cup carefully while climbing the stairs. Halfway up, I thought about the spilled coffee incident in the blue parlor and had to fight off a giggle that threatened to cause the brown drink to slosh over the edge of the cup. I made it to the top of the stairs and knocked on the door frame of a room with the door cracked open. A bark from Flip confirmed that I'd found Mrs. Fairmont's bedroom. I slowly entered.
'It's Tami. I've brought your coffee,' I announced. 'With cream and sugar.'
Mrs. Fairmont was sitting up in bed with pillows behind her. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom was filled with beautiful furniture. The bed had four massive posters and an ornate headboard. A tall bookcase filled with books stood against one wall. Against another wall was a long dresser with a large mirror above it. The top of the dresser was covered with family pictures. On the corner of the dresser was an old black-and-white photograph of a bride in a long elaborate gown and a groom wearing a tuxedo.
'Sorry, child. I was confused a minute ago,' Mrs. Fairmont said. 'I wasn't really awake. You're the young woman with twin sisters who have blue eyes.'
'Yes ma'am,' I replied, surprised at her recall of such a small detail. 'Where should I put the coffee?'
'On the nightstand.'
I set the cup in front of a picture of two girls in old-fashioned dresses.
'Who is that?' I asked.
Mrs. Fairmont turned her head. 'That's Ellen Prescott and I at Forsyth Park. She came from a poor family but received a scholarship to my school. It was Ellen's little daughter who was murdered. She had blue eyes, just like your sisters. They never found the body.'
I involuntarily shuddered. 'How old was she when she died?'
'About ten or eleven. Ellen married late in life to a man with a lot of money and never had another child. She and her husband died in a car wreck a few years later.'
Mrs. Fairmont reached over and raised the cup to her lips. Her right hand shook slightly, but she didn't spill a drop.
'That's good coffee for decaf,' she sighed. 'Thank you.'
I moved away from the bed. 'I'm leaving for my first day of work at Mr. Braddock's law firm. I'll see you this afternoon.'
'Run along. With Flip's help, I'll try to hold on to my sanity.'
I STOPPED FOR A LAST GLANCE at myself in the mirror in the green parlor. I looked appropriately professional and resolute. I practiced a quick smile that left me unsatisfied. People complimented me on my smile, even though the right corner of my lip curled up slightly higher than the left. I turned away from the mirror before a vain thought lodged in my brain.
The early morning sun served notice that it would be warm by the end of the day. I walked briskly down the steps and turned in the direction of the law office. My shoes didn't have high heels, but it was different from navigating the uneven sidewalks in running shoes. My feet crushed acorns left from the previous year's crop. I noticed details that had escaped me during my morning run. All of the houses were old, but there was remarkable variety in the use of brick or wood, the shape and placement of windows, the design of the front doors, and countless other nuances. I didn't try to take it all in at once. I knew that by the end of the summer, the walk to work would be as familiar to me as the woods on the west side of our house in Powell Station.
I passed a man walking his dog and two joggers running in the opposite direction. I crossed several intersections and reached Montgomery Street. The law office was several blocks from the Chatham County Courthouse, a modern structure uninfluenced by the beautiful area nearby. Traffic was busier on Montgomery Street, and when I reached Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter, my heart began to pound in my chest. A few cars were in the parking lot.
'Make this a place of praise,' I began to repeat under my breath.
I knew the prayer was right, but it didn't send peace to my heart. I'd felt less nervous trying to make a crucial free throw at the end of a conference tournament basketball game. I took a deep breath when I reached the front door and opened it.
The receptionist sat to the right of the sweeping staircase. My low heels clicked on the wooden floor.
'May I help you?' she asked.
'I'm Tami Taylor, one of the summer clerks,' I said, hoping my voice didn't shake. 'I'm here to see Ms. Patrick.'
The receptionist spoke to someone on the phone.
'Have a seat,' she said to me. 'She'll be down in a few minutes.'
I sat in a wooden chair with curved arms and legs. The front door of the office opened, and a young woman entered. It was Julie Feldman, also dressed in a dark suit and white blouse. Without noticing me, she approached the receptionist. Julie was shorter than I'd imagined from the pictures sent via the Internet and a lot cuter. Her black hair was cut short. The receptionist pointed in my direction. Julie's eyes met mine, and she smiled. She sat down on a leather couch beside my chair and introduced herself
'Are you nervous?' she asked.
'Yes.'
'Me too. I've talked to two of my friends who have been working for a week at big law firms in Atlanta. They told me not to treat it like summer camp. Their firms don't want them to get bored, and the partner in charge of summer clerks has a bunch of activities planned to keep them entertained. I told them Atlanta may be different from Savannah.'
Julie spoke rapidly, her dark eyes alert.
'All I know is that we're going to a luncheon today with the lawyers,' I replied. 'Ms. Patrick says it may be the only time all the partners are with us.'
Julie nodded. 'I've talked to her a bunch. Mr. Carpenter told me to meet with her this morning.'
I wondered why I'd not received personal contact from the senior partner. Perhaps it was because I was a fill- in.
'What's he like?'
'Okay, I guess. He came to the law school for an interview day. I didn't think he liked me, but then I got the job offer. Did you find a place to live?'
I told her about Mrs. Fairmont's house.
'You're not far from my place near Greene Square. We'll have to go out together some at night.'
My defenses flew up. 'It depends on Mrs. Fairmont's condition. Staying at her house is actually a second job.'
'What do you mean?'
'She has health issues,' I replied, not wanting to give details that Mrs. Bartlett might want to remain
