Mad as Helen Read Online Free Page A

from nearby as Bertha Beaner ambled up. “Oh, my, let me help,” she offered and set down her own oversized bag to collect the scattered legal pads Nancy had dropped.
    Nancy seemed to panic, snatching yellow pages from Bertha’s hands. “I’ve got it, thank you, Mrs. Beaner,” she insisted, scrambling to shove the papers back into her tote.
    “If you say so,” Bertha said and turned her back for a moment to collect her handbag. “I need to hustle anyway,” the woman said to Helen and jerked her head toward the salon. “I’ve got a date with LaVyrle.”
    Helen replied, “No, don’t be late,” but she wasn’t worried about Bertha getting one of LaVyrle’s lectures once she disappeared inside. She was worried about Nancy. Something was wrong.
    “Sweetie,” she asked and touched the young woman’s arm. “What’s got you in such a hurry? Have you finally decided to run away from your job with Grace Simpson?”
    If she expected to elicit a smile from her granddaughter, she failed miserably.
    Instead, Nancy cast a worried eye up the street and quickly shushed her. “Grace has ears like a bat,” she said under her breath, “except when I need to talk about my position.”
    “So you didn’t get the chance to chat with her?” Helen knew that Nancy had been summoning up the courage to do so for the past week.
    Nancy shook her head. “She basically ordered me to scram.”
    Helen made a sympathetic cluck.
    “Maybe I should go back to school and get my master’s sooner instead of later,” her granddaughter suggested. “I thought real-world experience would be a plus, but working for Grace is more pain than gain.”
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Helen said helplessly. “Like your grandpa used to tell me every time life disappointed me, all is not lost. When things don’t work out, it means there’s something better out there.”
    And Helen was sure that was true in this case.
    It wasn’t long after Nancy had taken the job with Grace straight out of college that Helen had realized assisting the town’s only psychotherapist wasn’t easy. Nancy often grumbled about Grace’s fear of computers and inability to type, much less do any administrative work for herself. I have to buy office supplies on my dime, Grandma, Nancy had told her, and she doesn’t reimburse me for a month .
    Nancy sighed with frustration. “I thought I’d be gaining insight into the profession, but instead I’m just a glorified toady.”
    “If Grace is so unbearable, maybe you should quit,” Helen said firmly.
    Nancy opened her mouth to respond but ended up shaking her head. “I’m not a quitter, and you know it. Besides, she might treat me like her minion, but she really cares about the profession. She’s interested in why people do the things they do, and she honestly wants to help them.”
    “Honestly?” Helen repeated and arched her eyebrows. “She sure doesn’t seem to want to help you, seeing how she’s always having you run her errands and wait for repairmen.” Her granddaughter’s duties seemed to cover everything from chauffer to lackey to laundry picker-upper. “That hardly sounds like a position with room for advancement.”
    “Yeah, I thought I’d learn more about the field than about how to make really good coffee. And, yes, there are times I want to wring Grace’s neck,” Nancy said, holding tight to the tote bag and patting it. “But if this book does for Grace what I think it will, it could be a breakthrough for me as well. Being her assistant could really mean something then.”
    “And you’re willing to wait and see?”
    Nancy bit her lip. “I guess I am.”
    Helen wasn’t sure why River Bend needed a therapist in the first place. After all, they had the resident pastor who presided over their nondenominational chapel and never ignored a plea for help. Although, Helen admitted to herself, they did seem to go through resident pastors like Kleenex. Their last preacher, Dr. Fister, had remained