The Trophy Wife (46 page)

“What did you play?”

“The allegro from a Mozart flute concerto.”

“How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was five. But then it wasn't really a flute. More like a tin whistle.”

Ellie stared over the letter, trying to find the person who was across from her, hiding in someone else's dress. This was a very talented young lady, obviously on another academic planet from Trish Mapleton and her friends, who would be pressed to draft a note for the milkman.

Theresa was back into her purse, retrieving still another envelope. “I also have a letter from my foreman at Digital Electronics,” she said. Ellie opened the letter eagerly, half expecting to learn that Theresa had invented a new computer chip.

Miss Santiago is our best quality control inspector, allowing production flaws in only .06 percent of units on her line, less than half the errors of our entire inspection staff, and less than a quarter of the industry average.

Ellie read several similar paragraphs from a company that clearly had a measure on its quality, and had documented that Theresa exceeded all standards. But it was the last paragraph that overwhelmed her.

Miss. Santiago achieves these results despite time she spends assisting her coworkers. When she finds a mistake, she doesn't simply reject the board. On her own, she takes the error back to the appropriate workstation and helps the technician to develop corrective procedures.

Ellie was very impressed with the credentials, and honestly admired the girl's nearly self-effacing modesty. But, it just
wouldn't work; the people on the Cape didn't give a damn about production lines. They were into cars, boats, fashion, and parties. Quality became significant only when their stereos gave out. And while many of them were patrons of theaters and orchestras, she couldn't think of one who even knew what a flute allegro was, much less identify the composer. Theresa Santiago simply wouldn't fit in, and that would be painful for her, as well as a problem for the children.

Theresa's soft voice interrupted her thoughts. “The job description said that you were a teacher, working on a thesis?” She turned up the last words of the question as if she could scarcely believe what she was saying.

“That's right,” Ellie answered. “Unfortunately, the thesis has been dragging on for several months without much progress. I really have to get it finished!” Maybe that would be her excuse. That her back was to the wall and she simply couldn't take a chance with a new and inexperienced mother's helper.

“Maybe I could be helpful,” Theresa suggested, as if the thought were preposterous. “I'm very interested in education. I'd like to be a teacher. And I'm really good at finding my way through a library. When your children are taken care of, I might… maybe I could help as … kind of a research assistant.” She paused at the temerity of her own suggestion. “Well, not really an assistant, but maybe just… kind of… a gofer.”

“That's a very interesting idea,” Ellie said, surprised that it actually was a good idea. But then she realized that she didn't want to let herself sound enthusiastic. The girl simply wouldn't work, and there was no point in getting up her hopes.

“Tell me about your experience with children. Have you ever worked as a full-time babysitter? Or as a mother's helper?”

Theresa shook her head slowly. “No. Between the job and school…”

“Of course,” Ellie said to bail her out. “When would you have time? But, you know that really has to be my first concern.
Children can find so many ways to get into mischief. You can't take your eyes off them.”

“I know,” Theresa said. “I take care of my little brothers and sister on Saturday nights and most of Sunday. It's hard just keeping them together where I can watch them all at once. Sometimes just getting them all into shoes for church is all I can handle.”

Keeping them all together? Ellie had images of shepherds trying to keep the flock going in one direction. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?” she asked.

“Five. I have four brothers and a sister. That's just the younger ones. I have two older sisters.”

“You take care of
five
children on Saturday nights and Sundays?”

“Most weekends. My parents have to go down to Bridgeport to take care of their parents. And my older sisters are married. So I take over.”

Ellie stared dumbly, knowing that she needed help just to keep up with her two children. The young woman was already measuring up to more family responsibility than she or any of her friends could manage. Yet she was calm and composed, while many of Ellie's contemporaries were tuned out on Xanax or Valium.

“Who'll take care of your brothers and sisters if you're working with me?”

“My parents will alternate weekends. And my sisters will help out if they run into a problem. They're all sort of pitching in. My mother says this is a great opportunity for me.”

Ellie sat back into her chair and drew a deep breath. “Would you like to meet my children?” she suggested.