After kissing her papery cheek, Carrie rose to join Joyce who was already out in the hall. Leaving the

door open behind her so she could hear Maddie if she did call, Carrie led the way downstairs.

"Your grandmother's a lovely woman. It makes you heart-sick to see a mind going sooner than the body."

Carrie wanted to hide the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. "Come on into the kitchen," she suggested as she turned away and tried to recompose herself. "There's everything here that you could need. The laundry room's through there. There's a laundry chute from the bathroom upstairs, so you wouldn't have to carry the clothes down the stairs."

"Everything looks just wonderful. You've worked a modern kitchen into this old house so nicely."

"Thanks, but that was my parent's work, not mine."

"They live here in town?"

Carrie explained that her parents had pa.s.sed away several years before. Joyce seemed to digest that

information as she examined the laundry room.

When she'd looked over the back yard, she turned back to Carrie. "I wouldn't have to mow that big lawn, would I?" A fleeting image of the dark-haired man pushing the mower Sat.u.r.day morning floated through Carrie's memory. "No, a service does that along with tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the bushes. Oh, and they shovel the snow, too, when the time comes."

"That'll be nice not to have to clear the walk."

"The service sends a bill to me once a month. You won't have to pay for anything. And I've set up a charge account at the grocery store for food as well as at the pharmacy for the medicine Grandma takes.

You'll only be responsible for your own personal purchases."

Joyce nodded.

"Do you think you could handle everything? I mean, I know you've had training in how to tend to Maddie, but what about the house. That wouldn't be any problem?"

"It would sure mean a lot of stairs. How does Maddie do it? You haven't got a chair-lift for her."

"Some days she doesn't come down. I've been worried about that," Carrie admitted. "Her meals can be brought up to her, but she's a prisoner in her own bedroom when the stairs are too much for her."

Joyce walked through the kitchen, past the eating area in the bay window where the round table sat, and on into the dining room. "How about in here?"

"How about what?"

"Why not bring her things down and set up her bedroom in here? You could take out the leaves and set the dining table in the corner of the living room. A little dresser from one of the spare bedrooms with a few of her things could fit right there beyond the china cabinet. I could bring down whatever else she needed each morning. That way I wouldn't be running up and down. But best of all Maddie could move about to the living room and the kitchen."

Carrie stood by the long table and turned a full circle, picturing the room as a bedroom. Looking back at Joyce, she smiled as she spoke. "I never thought of trying to move her down here, but that would be perfect. There's a full bathroom off the hall just a few steps away. She would have all the windows to see out and yet the drapes would give her privacy when she needs it."

"And she wouldn't have to go far to get some fresh air because it's just a few steps to sit outside."

"Oh, and she wouldn't have just the tops of trees to look at," Carrie added with a smile.

"It would all be much easier and a whole lot less expensive than putting in one of those elevator-chairs. We could put in an intercom so I can hear her easily when I'm upstairs at night. They're not too expensive."

"Great! I'll get started right away on setting it up. I'm very glad you thought of it, Joyce. That tells me you can antic.i.p.ate problems and work out solutions. That's high on my list of requirements for the person who takes care of Maddie. In fact, I want to offer you the job, if you'd like it."

"Well, yes," she decided quickly. "I think I'd like that."

"Wonderful. You can start today or anytime this week, but I hope no later than Sat.u.r.day. I should leave Sunday afternoon at the latest so I can get back to work on Monday." Carrie found herself instantly deciding that she wouldn't leave until after church.

"Oh, dear. I'm afraid I can't do that."

The smile flew from Carrie's face. "What? But... but..."

"I'm going to stay with my children starting this Friday. I told the service I couldn't start for another week. Seeing as I'd be starting a new job that was long-term, I really don't want to pa.s.s up the chance to see my family now before I begin. My grandkids are growing so fast."

Carrie chewed on her lower lip wondering what she would tell her boss. Joyce was too good to lose. "I'll have to work out something then."

"Good." Joyce held out her thick hand and Carrie shook it, sealing their deal.

Within an hour of Joyce's departure, Carrie had completed all the arrangements with the agency for her to come to work and live at Maddie's house.

Without any feeling of regret, Carrie canceled the third interview appointment. Joyce was a highly-recommended caring and capable person, and she didn't need to interview others to know Joyce's care was exactly what she wanted for Maddie.

By the end of the day, Carrie also had arranged to exercise her power of attorney. Maddie had signed it over to Carrie after her parents died and could no longer act on Maddie's behalf.

"You never know when it might come in handy," Maddie had said back then, displaying a degree of trust in Carrie that had flattered and pleased her.

Carrie needed it now to access money to pay Maddie's bills. In arranging to do so, she discovered another advantage to living in a small town. Maddie's attorney quickly paved the way for Carrie at the bank so she was able to facilitate using Maddie's checking account.

"All the statements will be sent to your apartment address in Fargo," the bank officer said as Carrie signed the signature card that would add her name to the account.

Her next ch.o.r.e was the biggest--find someone to care for Maddie until Joyce could move in. But she could think of no one. There just wasn't anyone else who could help her. She would have to do it herself.

Carrie dialed her boss' number, and dreading what she would hear in answer to her request, she clutched the phone with both hands to lift it to her ear.

"This is the end, the last time off I can give you, Carrie," Carrie's boss said after listening to her request for another week off from work. "We have to get out the seasonal materials this month. I need you here at your desk. In this business you work during the busy times and take vacations at slack times."

"This is hardly a vacation," Carrie interjected.

"I know. I know, but if you can't be back by Monday, I can't guarantee your job will be here when you do get back."

"But I can't just leave my grandmother here alone and there's no one to stay with her."

"I'm sorry, but you've got to understand my position. This company is so small that the loss of one person can really hurt. I'd hate to loose you permanently, but I've got a business to run. And frankly, you know there are several other people anxious to move up to fill your job."

Carrie did know, but she didn't have to like it. She ended the call feeling upset. She was near her limit and couldn't bear thinking that anything else could go wrong. Feeling very much alone, she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to calm her breathing.

Standing here wishing things would work out well, won't help any. I've got no one to depend on but myself. So quit moping and get to work, she ordered herself. Taking a deep breath, she checked her "To Do" list for the next item and then reached for the phone to dial another number.

"Bette, it's Carrie."

"Good to hear from you. How is Maddie doing?"

"She's fine, thanks. Bette, I need some help--some big-muscle help to move furniture. Do you know any strong teenagers in the neighborhood who could do it for me?"

Bette insisted on hearing about what she had planned. Before she knew it, Carrie had explained the whole switch of Maddie's bedroom to the dining room. "I've located a hospital-style bed I can rent. It can be cranked up and down instead of relying on stacks of pillows. That will be more convenient for Joyce."

"Joyce? Who's Joyce, dear?"

Carrie told her all about Joyce and then got back to moving the furniture. "The company can deliver the bed Thursday afternoon so I want to get the other things moved by then."

"Well, as for strong teenagers, there are several that go to the church, but I only know one nearby. His name is Marc Anderson. He lives about half way between your house and mine. He probably has other friends who could help," Bette offered.

"Sounds promising. I'll give him a ring."

"You could always call Peter at church. He's nice and strong. Handsome, too. He'd be happy to help you." Bette chuckled. "Offer him another home-cooked meal, and I do believe that he'd move your furniture in a minute."

Carrie thanked her politely for her suggestions, but there was no way she was going to invite that man to come back over to Maddie's house. She was still working hard to forget him. The farther away from him she stayed, the better, she thought as she ended the call.

Marc was at home and Carrie explained her situation. "The dining room table is heavy oak. Ideally, I'd like about four strong guys to lift it so we don't take a chance of nicking anything. The dresser I want moved is upstairs. I don't think it's lightweight either. Have you got some strong friends who might help?"

"I'm getting together with some friends tonight from six-thirty to eight. If eight wouldn't be too late, I can bring some of them by then."

"As long as they're strong, that would be wonderful."

Her step decidedly lighter after the call, Carrie bounded up the stairs to tell Maddie all the news. She wasn't quite sure that Maddie understood what was to happen, but when Carrie told her she could sit on the porch for a time tomorrow without having to worry about going back up stairs in the evening, her tired face brightened.

After lunch was cleared up, Carrie decided to make some lemon-flavored sugar cookies. She thought the teenagers might like them, though she would pay the young people for their trouble, of course.

Maddie enjoyed the cookies for dessert that evening. Talking over their tea in Maddie's bedroom, she seemed surprised to hear about Carrie's plans to move her downstairs.

"Like I told you this morning, Grandma," Carrie began and then chided herself for doing so. Maddie didn't arbitrarily choose not to remember, after all. "We're going to set up your bedroom downstairs in the dining room so you can get around more easily. Good thing Dad had a full bathroom put in downstairs. You'll have everything you need without having to go up and down the stairs. If you need something from up here, Joyce can get it for you."

"Who's Joyce, dear?"

Carrie sighed. Maddie truly had no idea at all who Joyce was. Although Carrie had told her all about Joyce coming to work for her, she repeated her explanation.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if you stayed with me?"

Thrown by that question, Carrie recovered enough to say, "Joyce is specially trained to know what to do to take care of you if you get sick. She's licensed to take care of people who need special help sometimes like you, Grandma. But I'll come visit often, so don't you worry."

"It would be nice to have you here. You don't have to stay away, dear. I know what happened to Ralph was not your fault. You shouldn't let his death keep you from coming home more often." Maddie patted her hand as if she were a child.

"Thanks, Grandma." She looked out the window, but the scene she saw was of five years ago. "It was a very bad time in my life and I don't like thinking about it. So many things in Sunville remind me of that year when all I want to do is forget. Each year fewer people mention it to me, but I haven't managed to forget."

Carrie drew in a deep breath and looked back down at Maddie. She was ready for sleep. Selecting some quiet string music tapes to play on the stereo system, Carrie adjusted the volume to low and took the dirty dishes downstairs.

She'd washed the pots and pans and put them away by the time she heard laughing voices coming from the behind the hedgerow. Must be a noisy group leaving the church, she thought at first, but the voices seemed to be moving closer.

At the knocks on the back screen door, she turned on the light that more clearly illuminated a group of young people gathered on the back stoop. Her eyes flitted over the smiling youthful faces to rest on the taller head behind them. Peter.

"Ah, hi. I'm Marc. You called me today about moving furniture?"

Carrie's gaze was pulled back to the blond teenager built like a football player who stood right by the screen door. "Yes, of course," she managed.

She opened the screen and six young people, including two girls, crowded in past her. Peter came in last, allowing the screen to close behind him so that he stood right next to her. He proceeded to introduce everyone, but Carrie wasn't sure she would remember more than a name or two.

"We were rehearsing the puppet show at the church when Marc told us you needed some heavy muscle power," a tall slender boy told her. "So here we are." The other kids laughed because the boy who had spoken was not rich in the muscle department. Carrie smiled. "Okay, so we were glad for the chance to quit. The rehearsal stunk," the boy admitted.

One of the girls punched his arm lightly with her fist. "That's because you couldn't remember your lines, Dummy."

"Okay, okay." Peter interjected. "Let's not scare Carolyn. I think she's hoping you're a well-mannered group."

All the faces turned to her expectantly. She smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not ready to kick you out, but I am sorry to hear about the rehearsal. What play are you doing?"

Marc told her about the play they had selected from a magazine.

"Hey, dude, she knows all about it. Like it's her magazine," a third boy told him.

Carrie smiled warily, wondering how he knew that. "Not mine, but I do work for the publishing company." At least I hope I still do, she added silently.

She didn't want to look over at Peter, but she wondered if he'd told them where she worked. Or was she the subject of the small-town gossip that even these kids had picked up on? She knotted her hands together at her flip-flopping stomach. She wasn't happy with either prospect.

"Hey, maybe she could help us with the show," Marc said, looking around at his friends for their reaction. "We could use someone else to tell us what to do to make the show better."

"Far out," a young man who'd been silent to that point added. "Peter's great and everything, but he thinks whatever we do is good. And it's not. We really s..."

Marc's hand quickly covered the boy's mouth to prevent him from saying more. "Wayne's new to our group and he forgets himself. He was about to say that we really could use your help."

Carrie glanced at Peter. He was fighting a smile. She felt no such compunction and allowed one to spread across her face. "Maybe for as long as I'll be in town anyway. As of today, that looks like it will be another week."

Peter's smile broke loose at the same time as his brow wrinkled with his unspoken query. There would be time later for Carrie to tell him what was going on with Maddie. It would be good to have him aware of the arrangements because he was so close at hand in case something happened. That was why she looked forward to talking to him again, wasn't it?

Carrie led the way through to the dining room. "This is the table I need moved," she said, and then explained the rest of her plans for the downstairs bedroom.

"No problem," they chorused.

With Carrie's direction, the young men did an excellent job of moving it without a scratch. Peter and two of the boys hefted the smaller dresser from one of the other bedrooms without disturbing Maddie.

"Will ya look at that bedspread and cover on the canopy," one of the girls whose name was Susan said when she saw the old-fashioned bed in one of the bedrooms.

"My grandmother crocheted those," Carrie told her proudly. "She made the spread that's under the crocheted cover, too."