Afraid of rejection, just like now.And so, she gritted her teeth and picked up the phone. It was about six-thirty in the evening, time for her to have...got home from work. And Jonelle did answer the phone."Jonelle?" Laura said, maybe too brightly, so relieved to hear her voice.But Jonelle said nothing for a painfully long time."Jonelle... it's Laura." Oh... Laura," Jonelle said, awkwardly."God, I'm in Dallas and I couldn't wait to call you and I miss you so much, you sound so great," Laura. Amelia left her office door slightly ajar as she walked across the large reception area and stood at Amber Fox’s desk, waiting patiently for the young, red-haired lady to finish what she was doing on her computer. Amber smiled as she finished her email and pressed “send.” She then turned her full attention to the dark-haired Head Mistress who was leaning over the desk, her elbows resting on the raised wooden desk.“Hello Amber. Are you busy?” Amelia smiled as the younger woman looked up at. Terri walked in purposefully. Walked over to the sofa. Sat right down, up against Susan."My Aunt Susan," she said. "She looked sad when she came in. I know when things're wrong." Baby, you should let adults work these things out," I said. That's seldom the correct response for Terri."Kids can't love?" she asked. "Love always helps."Susan put her arm around Terri and looked at me. "Terri should stay. I won't cry if Terri's here." I hope it's not because you don't want to cry in front of a little. This is the way I remember the ladies of the 1950s, one in particular my neighbor. Her name was Grace and at the time of this story would have been approximately 43 years old. She stood barely over five feet, a well-proportioned lady, with an olive complexion. She wore her curled brunette hair shoulder length with a soft waving bang drifting over the left side of her forehead. Summer months always found her in soft, translucent against the sun, button down the front cotton print dresses. As a.
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