Chapter 7 Happy or sad....

Chapter Seven

Clara felt happier and more optimistic than she had in a long time after waking up to a gorgeous sunny day and feeling exceptionally piqued on her way to work. The speed at which the workday went by shocked her. She went directly to the daycare by car from school. Her hands trembled and her heart pounded with excitement, but a genuine sense of purpose lifted her spirits. She felt like a gambler willing to stake everything on a single dollar. She could lose everything, just like the gambler. After parking, she got out and took a look around.

The daycare had a brand-new, white roof and had just been painted. She could see evidence of care and attention everywhere she looked. Tree leaves were raked and placed around shrubbery, and the hedge in front was trimmed. The parking lot appeared to have just been hosed down and swept. The voices of children on the fenced-in playground came from behind.

As she stepped inside and stopped, her pulse accelerated. She saw a few of the kids who were still there being led outside to play with the others. Clara trailed behind, observing a playground full of kids ages two, three, four, and five as they played from the back door. Aides moved between them, keeping a close eye on them. A school bus pulled up in front of her and dropped off several older kids whose parents were at work. They were greeted by an assistant who led them inside to a table where they could complete their assignments. She served them cookies and punch.

Clara arrived, and Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence welcomed her. Her hand trembled as she shook their hands.

"Miss Dalton..."

"Please call me Clara."

"Clara, I'm Cole Lawrence and this is my wife Alex. Did you have the opportunity to look around outside?"

"I just arrived, and took a minute to observe through the fence the children playing. They seem extremely well behaved."

"They are. Alex and I are going to miss them, but there comes a time I suppose when age creeps up on you and you just know its retirement time. How long have you been teaching, Clara?"

"This is my third year."

Husband and wife looked a little surprised and they glanced between each other.

"Why would you want to give up your teaching job to run a daycare?" Mrs. Lawrence asked, while she ushered Clara to a chair in their small office.

"Well, as I explained to Mr. Lawrence yesterday on the phone, it's a matter of necessity."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Mrs. Lawrence said, taking off her glasses to wipe the lens clean.

"My mom and dad are both disabled," she said, pausing through their commiserations before continuing. "I won't put them in a nursing home, and going off to work and leaving them every day is very hard. I worry about them as if they are my children. It's really stressful on me, worrying and trying to do a good job teaching. If I had the daycare I could bring them to work with me."

"Oh, you poor thing," Mrs. Lawrence murmured. "What a fine daughter you are to care so much for your parents." She was certain her own children would not be so charitable.

Mr. Lawrence thought about her story. "Running a business isn't easy, Clara. It's a time-consuming proposition."

"I know it won't be easy, sir. What I'm doing now is also time-consuming. If my parents were with me while I'm working, I could dedicate myself with greater concentration to what I need to do. I worked with my father in his accounting business before he became too ill to work. I'm good in accounting skills and my teaching experience gives me an edge with the children. Is there a room in the back that could be used as a dayroom?"

"There are three rooms in the back. One of them is the employee lounge. The other two are used for storage. I'm sure the larger one would be suitable for what you want," Mrs. Lawrence suggested, rising to her feet to go show Clara.

Clara followed her to the employee lounge. "Oh my goodness, this would be perfect." The lounge contained a sofa, chairs, an extension phone and a television. A small bathroom with a toilet, shower, and sink opened off the lounge.

Her spirits soared. For the first time in months she felt a slim stirring of hope. Maybe her life wouldn't be so doomed after all, she thought, looking at the connecting storage room, which could easily be turned into a den with day beds where her parents could nap. The daycare had a small kitchen off the main room where she could prepare their meals right on the premises. Since the play ground was fenced in, they could sit outside and Clara wouldn't have to worry that her father might wander off. Everything seemed perfect.

Mr. Lawrence showed her his books, indicating the profits he'd made for the past five years. Clara listened and observed carefully, trying to compare her salary to the figures he was presenting. They discussed the kind of down payment she was willing to make, and the monthly cost of mortgage payments. Clara did some mental calculating, but Mr. Lawrence figured it precisely for her on his tiny calculator. "This is how much you'd take home after mortgage payments and overhead-based, of course, on the enrollment we presently have and the number of employees," he said.

"That's double what I make at school. I believe I could do it. Does the enrollment vary a great deal?"

"No, as a matter of fact, the last five years we've had full enrollment most of the time with a waiting list. My wife and I have made a decent living here. We haven't exactly gotten rich, but we've lived very comfortably. I believe your experience as a teacher can draw additional enrollments if you add educational training to the pre-school children's daily schedule. That would increase your revenue."

"That is something I would definitely do. I don't want to give up teaching. I really enjoy it."

He introduced her to his staff, three nice ladies reaching toward middle-age who had worked with him and his wife for years. They were friendly and appeared to be good at what they were doing. The more the Lawrences explained about the day-care, the more Clara's interest grew. It still frightened her at the prospect of using up most of her parents' savings, but it did present a way to take care of her parents-no matter how risky.

The following day Clara took Jonny with her for a tour of the daycare. Her hopes surged like they hadn't in months. She was beginning to believe it could work out, and Jonny's positive input gave encouragement to her decision.

"Please let this be the right thing to do," she said to Jonny.

"Clara, I really think it's going to work out for you," Jonny replied.

Clara prayed after she and Jonny parted and she drove home. She had never taken such a large gamble and doubted she ever would again.

Clara feared her mother might balk over having to use a huge lump of their savings toward the down payment, but she was wrong. "Mama, there are rooms in the back," Clara said excitedly. "One can be turned into a day room where you and papa can lie down if you want. There's also a lounge with a television and a bathroom. You can sit outside and watch the children on the playground. It's perfect. There's even a tiny kitchen. I could take care of you and Dad and not have to worry about you being alone."

Matilda's eyes held a sudden sparkle that Clara hadn't seen in a long time. She had slowly been giving up hope of staying out of the nursing home as her arthritis worsened until she could barely do things for herself, much less for Stanley. Hearing this news from Clara raised her spirits. Maybe she wouldn't have to become a nursing home statistic after all. Clara was offering her an alternative. Not only that, she trusted her younger daughter with having the good sense and responsibility to make the right decision.

With the favorable response Clara got from her mother, she smiled, picked up the phone and dialed. Mr. Lawrence answered. "I'll take it, Mr. Lawrence."

"I'm glad, Clara. We really worried about who might buy it. The children sort of grow on you like your own. We didn't want to put them in just anyone's hands. With you, I know they'll be well cared for."

The closing date was set, and the next day Clara gave notice to her principal.

The Lawrences were deeply moved by Clara's reason for buying the daycare. For one so young to take on the responsibility of disabled parents and a business, she merited special consideration. And they gave it to her.

For two weeks straight, after Clara took over ownership, they spent days and evenings familiarizing her with her new business. As Mr. Lawrence had indicated previously, running a business wasn't easy. There was bookkeeping, payroll, monthly statements to be mailed out when a parent's payment wasn't timely, keeping tax records, maintenance of grounds and building, ordering supplies as needed, and numerous other chores that Clara took notes on. There were things to be done she hadn't even considered, but with the Lawrences' thorough directions, she was learning quickly and the aides who were glad to keep their jobs pitched in to handle extra duties. Her transition from teacher to businesswoman was moving along nicely.

Matilda and Stanley sat in the employee lounge watching television while Clara and the Lawrences worked. When her father got restless from sitting too long and wondered out the back door while Matilda napped, there was no need for panic because the fence was six-feet tall and there were no unlocked gates to enable the old gent to walk away. Had Clara known of his solitary retreat from the comfortable lounge, however, she would have been frantic, but thinking he and Matilda both were safe, she worked peacefully with the Lawrences.

"Clara, this isn't going to be easy, dear," Mrs. Lawrence said with a great deal of last minute reservations scrambling through her head after having seen the condition of her parents.

"Mrs. Lawrence, it hasn't been easy thus far, but I'm hoping this will at least take some of the worry from me so I can function with less stress. Anyway, when I consider the amount of work I put into school work outside the regular school day, I believe things will balance out very nicely after I develop a routine."

"What about you, dear? You're simply too young to dedicate your life to work and parents. You really must find some time for yourself."

"I have a friend." It was strange how she barely ever thought of Paul. "He travels and I don't see much of him, but I'm always aware that at least I have someone. Anyway, I just have be my best and hopefully, some of the good I send out will be returned to me."

"I'm sure you're right, Clara, and I admire your spirit, but sometimes you must go after the things you want personally for yourself. They don't always fall at your feet. Life speeds by so quickly."

Clara thought about the way her sister Bonnie went after the things she wanted, not an unselfish bone in her body. Clara could never be cold-hearted like her sister. She loved her parents too much not to do all she could for them. When she dared let her mind travel to her own hopes and dreams, guilt ate at her, reminding her that she had no time in her life for girlish dreams. The thought of being happy when her poor parents were not would have torn relentlessly at her inner peace. They had to come first always.

That evening after the Lawrences left and Clara locked up for the evening, she found her mother in the small lounge, still napping in front of the television and her father no where in sight. She checked the tiny bedroom where she had put two twin beds for them. He wasn't there either. Worry shot through her system as she flicked on an outside light, then hurried outside to the playground.

Scanning the area frantically, she saw him near the slide board, and hastened her steps to where he lay.

"Papa!" she called wildly, a flash of fear that he might have fallen and hurt himself. He seemed so still and silent. She touched his pulse, and breathed a breath of relief. His pulse was strong and steady. "Oh, Papa," she cried, suddenly crumpling to her knees and sobbing broken-heartedly when she realized he was sleeping.

"Papa, you can't come outside by yourself like this," she scolded gently. Then struggling to get him up, his weight feeling like a sack of bricks, she blinked back the moisture that blurred her vision.

"Is anything really any easier?" she cried during that moment of sheer defeat.