Sheila Altman put down her hook and looked at Adele’s creation. She was dressed in a black suit, which was her uniform for her job as the receptionist at the local women’s gym. For once she seemed relatively anxiety free. Just hearing about all she had on her plate made me nervous. Along with juggling several jobs, she was going to school to become a costume designer, and lived in a rented room partially paid for by babysitting the homeowner’s kids. “I think you should use it for trim,” Sheila said, taking the strip and holding it at the bottom of the blue scarf she was working on.

Then Sheila handed the piece to me. As Adele’s gaze turned my way, she saw the box with the clipboard on top that I had set on the table. I prepared myself for the onslaught.

“What are you doing with the rhinestone clipboard?” Adele demanded. Was there a little quiver in her lip? When I didn’t answer immediately, she stood up. “Well, Pink, what’s the story?”

Even after several years, Adele had still not gotten over the fact I’d been hired as the event coordinator at Shedd & Royal Books and More. It didn’t matter that I had a background in public relations thanks to my late husband Charlie’s business; Adele still thought she should have gotten the position. To soothe her hurt feelings, she had gotten the children’s story time. And over time, Adele had managed to work her way into handling some events with me.

“Mrs. Shedd told me she isn’t going to the Get Out of the Heat and Light Your Creative Fire weekend. She put me in charge and turned over the rhinestone clipboard,” I said finally.

“That’s ridiculous! You’re not qualified. How many of the retreats have you gone on?” Adele said. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I’ve been on every one since I started working here, which was years before you started.”