out a sketch. It was a brick monument sign which read, "Sycamore House."
"We thought you might like this," she said.
"I love it!" Polly laughed. The concrete over her front door was engraved with "Bellingwood Public Schools" and she didn't plan to erase that connection to the building's origins, but this sign would identify the property for at least the next fifty years.
"Oh," Polly said, "This is all amazing. Every step we take makes things more wonderful around here. Thank you for initiating this!" She couldn't wait to tell Jeff. This garden area was going to be a terrific draw for brides as they looked for a place for weddings and receptions.
As the ladies began talking about flowers and plants, Polly quietly pulled out mugs and saucers and placed them on a tray. She had made lemon shortbread cookies yesterday after school with Jason and Andrew, the sons of her friend and Sycamore House’s chef, Sylvie Donovan. Arranging them on a plate, she set everything on the peninsula. When she handed the basket of teabags around the table, no one said a word. They were engrossed in their plans and allowed her to serve them. However, Lydia winked at her and nodded before jotting a note on the plans where the dahlias would be planted.
Polly jumped at another knock at her front door. Harry was standing there with a chunk of concrete in his hands.
"What is this, Harry?"
"I found this broken off the back step by the storeroom door. What should I do with it?" He tried to step into her entry way, but Polly stood firmly in the door.
"Go ahead and write a note telling me exactly where it was that you discovered the break and put it and the piece of concrete on the main office desk. I'll deal with it when I'm downstairs."
"I could describe the whole thing to you now," he pressed. "If I could come in and chat with you ..."
"No, I have people here right now, Harry. Go ahead and write it up and I'll be sure to take care of it."
"I'm only worried about people trying to get in that door and hurting themselves. With all of the rain and mud, it wouldn't do to have someone trip on it. Can you believe all the rain we've been having? I feel as if I'm going to drown just coming to work. You know that creek is going to flood and will probably destroy your lawn and I'll bet when it does your horses will be in trouble. Last year it was a drought and this year we have all of this dreadful rain."
He took a breath and Polly stepped back inside, pulling the door toward her. "Thank you, Harry. Please put it on the desk downstairs and I will take care of it."
She pushed the door shut and stepped back into the living room.
CHAPTER TWO
One more time. It figured. Custodian number four wasn't here for the second day in a row. Polly was tired of scrubbing toilets and began to think that somehow the job description was a curse. Harry Bern hadn't shown up at all yesterday and he wasn't here yet today. She slammed her hands down on her desk, stood up, and stomped into Jeff's office.
"I don't have time for this crap," she said, dropping into a chair.
He grinned. "I think I'm going to write a book called 'The Curse of the Custodian.'" They had talked about this after the third person they'd hired for the job called to tell them he was moving to Florida because he'd met a wonderful woman online and was going to live in peace and harmony with her and three other couples on a farm. Their second custodian had lasted longer than their first, Shawn Wesley. He held the record. He hadn't lasted a day before Polly kicked him out. John Bennett had lasted three days. He walked in one morning to give fifteen minutes notice because he'd gotten the job he had been hoping for as a waiter in Ames. Polly began to think Jeff was right. Maybe the job was cursed.
"Do you think there's anything wrong with Harry?" she asked.
"He’s here every morning at 9:45 to have coffee before starting to work at ten. And when he has had to be late for
"We thought you might like this," she said.
"I love it!" Polly laughed. The concrete over her front door was engraved with "Bellingwood Public Schools" and she didn't plan to erase that connection to the building's origins, but this sign would identify the property for at least the next fifty years.
"Oh," Polly said, "This is all amazing. Every step we take makes things more wonderful around here. Thank you for initiating this!" She couldn't wait to tell Jeff. This garden area was going to be a terrific draw for brides as they looked for a place for weddings and receptions.
As the ladies began talking about flowers and plants, Polly quietly pulled out mugs and saucers and placed them on a tray. She had made lemon shortbread cookies yesterday after school with Jason and Andrew, the sons of her friend and Sycamore House’s chef, Sylvie Donovan. Arranging them on a plate, she set everything on the peninsula. When she handed the basket of teabags around the table, no one said a word. They were engrossed in their plans and allowed her to serve them. However, Lydia winked at her and nodded before jotting a note on the plans where the dahlias would be planted.
Polly jumped at another knock at her front door. Harry was standing there with a chunk of concrete in his hands.
"What is this, Harry?"
"I found this broken off the back step by the storeroom door. What should I do with it?" He tried to step into her entry way, but Polly stood firmly in the door.
"Go ahead and write a note telling me exactly where it was that you discovered the break and put it and the piece of concrete on the main office desk. I'll deal with it when I'm downstairs."
"I could describe the whole thing to you now," he pressed. "If I could come in and chat with you ..."
"No, I have people here right now, Harry. Go ahead and write it up and I'll be sure to take care of it."
"I'm only worried about people trying to get in that door and hurting themselves. With all of the rain and mud, it wouldn't do to have someone trip on it. Can you believe all the rain we've been having? I feel as if I'm going to drown just coming to work. You know that creek is going to flood and will probably destroy your lawn and I'll bet when it does your horses will be in trouble. Last year it was a drought and this year we have all of this dreadful rain."
He took a breath and Polly stepped back inside, pulling the door toward her. "Thank you, Harry. Please put it on the desk downstairs and I will take care of it."
She pushed the door shut and stepped back into the living room.
CHAPTER TWO
One more time. It figured. Custodian number four wasn't here for the second day in a row. Polly was tired of scrubbing toilets and began to think that somehow the job description was a curse. Harry Bern hadn't shown up at all yesterday and he wasn't here yet today. She slammed her hands down on her desk, stood up, and stomped into Jeff's office.
"I don't have time for this crap," she said, dropping into a chair.
He grinned. "I think I'm going to write a book called 'The Curse of the Custodian.'" They had talked about this after the third person they'd hired for the job called to tell them he was moving to Florida because he'd met a wonderful woman online and was going to live in peace and harmony with her and three other couples on a farm. Their second custodian had lasted longer than their first, Shawn Wesley. He held the record. He hadn't lasted a day before Polly kicked him out. John Bennett had lasted three days. He walked in one morning to give fifteen minutes notice because he'd gotten the job he had been hoping for as a waiter in Ames. Polly began to think Jeff was right. Maybe the job was cursed.
"Do you think there's anything wrong with Harry?" she asked.
"He’s here every morning at 9:45 to have coffee before starting to work at ten. And when he has had to be late for
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