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To Find Her Place

By Susan Anne Mason

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CHAPTER 1
September, 1943
“I’m leaving now, Mama. Are you sure you’ve got everything you need?”
Jane Linder glanced from her mother, seated in her favorite plaid armchair, to the wooden mantle clock as it chimed the half hour and tried to ignore her rising anxiety. Today of all days she needed to be early for work. Early enough to beat the dreaded Mr. Wilder into the office.
And, of course, today of all days, Mama was having a bad morning.
“I’ll be fine, Janey.” Mama plucked at the fraying hem of her bathrobe sleeve. “Don’t worry about me.”
Jane moved to the side table, pulled a napkin from the breakfast tray, and set it on her mother’s lap. “You have your toast and tea right here. There’s leftover soup in the icebox for lunch. I’ll do my best to come home at noon and check on you. As long as it’s not too much of a madhouse at work.”
Mama gave a wan smile that accentuated the bluish tinge to her mouth and pushed a lock of gray hair off her forehead. “I know it’s an important day for you. I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.”
Jane gave her customary scan of the narrow front room, ensuring that the drapes covering the bow window were open no more than a few inches, enough to let in some light, but not enough that the neighbors could see inside. She also made sure Mama’s favorite floor lamp was on and that her crossword puzzles and Good Housekeeping magazines all sat within easy reach so she wouldn’t have to do any extra walking.
“I’ll tell you what.” Jane slid the telephone across the table, closer to Mama’s chair. “If it’s too hectic and I can’t come home, I’ll call Mrs. Peters and have her pop in to check on you. In the meantime, if you start to feel worse, call me at work.” She knelt to look into Mama’s eyes and grabbed her thin hand. “Promise me you will. I don’t want you to worry about bothering me. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Mama’s thin lips trembled. “You’re such a good daughter. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.” Tears formed in her eyes, creating red rims around the edges.
Jane held back a sigh. Whenever Mama had a bad spell, she became overly emotional. And sometimes rather clingy, often begging Jane not to go into the office. At times, Jane gave in and stayed home with her, but then felt guilty about not living up to her commitment at work. There were days Jane thought of giving up her job at the Children’s Aid Society, but those children were too important for her to do that. Even if it meant eventually hiring a nurse to stay with Mama during the day while Jane was at work, she’d do it.
As acting directress of the Toronto Children’s Aid for the past six months, Jane had a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. Yet she welcomed it, hoping that by proving herself in the role, she might earn the title permanently. Her boss, Mr. Mills, was on a leave of absence that had been extended twice already due to ill-health. If he decided to retire, someone would need to fill the position permanently, and Jane intended to be that someone. Constantly calling in sick to care for her mother would not help her achieve that goal. The one advantage of not having any children of her own was that she was free to work the long hours required at the agency. She could not afford to let the organization’s president or the board of management see her in the role of nursemaid. At all times, she needed to project an image of absolute professionalism.
Which meant not being late.
“I have to go, Mama. I’ll see you later.” She kissed her mother’s papery cheek, whispered a quick prayer for the Lord to watch over her, then grabbed her bag and rushed out the door to catch the bus.
And prayed all the while that Mr. Wilder was not an early riser.

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