Chapter 18

DeeAnn mulled over the whole Pamela hiring only foreigners thing. What was that about? “Randy, how does Pamela find her help?”

“Who? What?” Randy was obviously concentrating on his father-son scrapbooking project.

“Pamela!” DeeAnn said. “How does she find her foreign help? I mean, I wouldn’t even know where to begin, say, if I wanted to specifically hire immigrants.”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry, DeeAnn. The hiring is done by Pamela. I have no idea how she finds them.”

“Maybe she runs want ads in their Mexican papers,” Vera suggested.

“Online, more likely,” Annie said.

“It’s not only people from Mexico. Sal is from Brazil and some of the others are from the Philippines,” Randy said.

It was perplexing. DeeAnn couldn’t get over it. She didn’t know about any of it, of course, and it troubled her. Even though Pamela’s Pie Palace was on the outskirts of town, she was in the same business and wondered if she was missing an opportunity. But what was the advantage? Her employees were the best. She paid them a fair wage and they worked hard for her. She sucked in air as a twinge of pain ripped through her lower back.

Sheila noticed. “DeeAnn? Is this too much for you?”

“Nah, I probably need another couple pain pills.” DeeAnn reached for her bottle as she looked at the clock. When was the last time I took a pill? Oh never mind.

It hurt, so she took a couple more.

Annie’s head tilted as she looked up from her scrapbook. “Where do all these immigrants live? I mean, I never see them wandering around Cumberland Creek.”

“I have no idea, Annie,” Randy said. “We know where the Martelino sisters lived. Maybe the rest of them live there, too.”

“But even then, where are they hanging out? Doing their grocery shopping? I never see them,” she insisted.

“That is odd. I figured since I moved onto the mountain, I’m a bit out of touch with things. That’s why I don’t see them. There are several girls in dance class, though,” Vera said and placed a button onto her page. It was a button that looked like a medal. She was working on Eric’s triathlon page.

“I think they keep to themselves,” Randy said after a minute. “I mean, imagine being in a foreign country surrounded by people you don’t know. It’s natural to want to hang out with other people from your own country. Right?”

DeeAnn searched through her brain to remember if she’d ever seen any of the new people in the bakery. She couldn’t remember. She closed the lid on her laptop to rest her eyes, which were burning.

“You okay?” Vera said.

“Yes, stop fussing over me. It’s just that my eyes are burning from using the computer,” DeeAnn said.

“Yes, that will happen. That and pain in your hands and such. It’s a good idea to stop, rest your eyes, and stretch,” Sheila said.

“Sheila, how is Donna?” Annie asked after taking a sip of beer.

“She’s doing okay,” Sheila said after a minute.

DeeAnn took a good look at Sheila. “But you look like hell.”

“DeeAnn!” Paige said. “Those drugs are messing with your head!”

Sheila’s mouth dropped open, then closed.

Vera reached over and took her hand. “She’s right. You look very tired. Are you okay?”

DeeAnn watched as Sheila’s lips started to curl downward. Her cheeks twitched and a low sob came from deep inside of her. “No! I’m not okay. I have deadlines, big deadlines, a very sick daughter who wants to go back to Carnegie Mellon, another child getting ready to go to school, and I have no energy. I simply don’t know how to manage anymore.” She snapped her laptop shut.

The room went completely silent.

Cookie spoke up first. She had been quiet for most of the night, which was her usual way these days. She’d come and eat and work on a page or two. Nobody knew what memories she was scrapbooking, since she really didn’t remember much of her past.

“Sheila, maybe you need to pull back, give something up,” Cookie said.

Sheila made a noise, something between a laugh and a sob. “But what? I have this dream job . . .”

“Sometimes what we think is a dream turns out to be a nightmare,” Cookie said.

DeeAnn bit her tongue. How would she know? Half the time Cookie didn’t remember a thing. How could she be dispensing advice?

Sheila took a deep breath. “You know, Cookie, for somebody who is still not quite well . . . I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. I love my work. But the deadlines, the travel . . . If Donna were okay, I think it would be different. But maybe I need to talk to my company about pulling back a bit. My first product line comes out next week. It’s going to be crazy busy.”

“Is this your scrap journaling project?” Annie asked.

“That’s part of it. There’s a Halloween digital scrap journal and a line of papers and embellishments and so on. All designed by me.” Despite her stress, Sheila beamed with pride.

“That’s fantastic,” DeeAnn said.

“The company is having this huge event to roll it out next week. My whole family is going with me to the city to celebrate.”

“Oh Sheila, that’s wonderful!” Vera said.

Sheila nodded. “A dream come true. If only I felt better.”