Chapter Forty-Three Sassy
forty-three SASSY
Work was improving by the day for Sassy. Her first attempt to speak with a couple about selling their house had somehow turned into both a sale and a purchase, and she watched in awe as the reverse domino effect took place. The work that had initially appeared as a tangled mess in her mind was quickly shaping up into straight lines that she could easily navigate. Tom observed, giving her encouragement and more cases to follow up on, but mostly he let her do her thing.
“Your dad was right. You’re a natural.”
She grinned. “You might be right.”
On her walk home from the bus one day, she saw two men sleeping in an alley, and what had once frightened her now made her sad. They wore old fatigues, and she couldn’t help thinking of Daniel. From him, she had learned that these men were not bad people. Just lost. From Marion, she had learned that she had the ability to help them somehow.
The next morning, she stopped in at Eaton’s and bought a half dozen blankets, which she handed out to shivering men she passed. They stared at her in amazement then asked if she had any money to spare. The day after that, she went to Jack’s Variety Store and pulled together bags of things she thought the men might need. Food, toothbrushes, soap. Wool caps and hand-knitted mittens. When she told Esther what she was doing, she and Jack loaded Sassy up with bags of food. She had to phone Tom to come and drive her, because she couldn’t carry it all.
“But there’s so many of them,” she said as he drove. “I’ll never be able to make a dent. I want to do more.”
He eyed her. “You have a good heart, Sass, but keep in mind what Marion told you. Some of those men should still be in the hospital, medicated. I know how much you care, but keep a safe distance. You never know.”
That night, she rode the elevator upstairs then stepped into the hallway. Mr. Snoop’s door clicked open, then closed, and Sassy had a thought. She rapped her knuckle against his door.
“Hello?”
There was no response, but she thought she could hear him breathing on the other side of the door.
“You don’t have to come out, but I want you to know that if you need anything, you can ask anyone on this floor for help. We’re all good people.”
Still no sound from the other side, but she hadn’t expected any. She slid a Jersey Milk bar under his door before walking on, and that brought a smile to her lips. But down the hall, when she reached Marion’s apartment, she hesitated, missing her friend. What a strange situation they were in. Marion was in Vietnam, where no one had ever imagined her being. No one had any real illusions that Marion might find Joey, despite that being the spark that had set all this in motion, but Marion had gone anyway. She was doing all she could to help. Marion, like her father, was a hero.
Sassy turned her key and opened her door, still thinking of her friend. She smiled at Chester, meandering toward her with his tail up like a flagpole. She’d agreed to keep the cat as long as Marion needed, and honestly, Chester was a good roommate. He helped keep the loneliness at bay. And when he purred, contentment rolling deep within him, it was impossible not to feel comforted. Out of habit, she turned on the television then went to the kitchen to make dinner for both her and Chester. While he ate, she carried her plate to the dining table and was about to bite into the sandwich when an awful thought struck her.
What was she doing for anyone beside herself? Sure, she’d helped out a dozen or so men with blankets and food, but Marion had flown halfway across the world, using her skills to save lives. Daniel was helping in his own way, supporting and protecting Marion. Davey had pulled together a fundraiser for the Red Cross, and Tom had made a huge donation.
Chester jumped onto the couch and pressed his sweet face to hers. Even the cat was helping in his own way. He sat beside her and returned her gaze.
“What can I do?” she asked. He promptly lifted his back leg over his head so he could clean himself. She rolled her eyes. “That’s no help, Chester.”
It was cold outside, but she wrapped a blanket around her body and stepped onto her balcony. The streets had been mostly cleared of snow after the latest blizzard, and the road below shimmered under the streetlamps. A man and woman shuffled past the building, wrapped in coats and hats and boots, scarves hiding their faces. A couple of cars swished past, and Sassy lifted her gaze to take in the city. Miles and miles and miles of streets and buildings, thousands and thousands of people. Over in that direction was her father’s big, red-stone house. She smiled, remembering all the nooks and crannies where she and Joey had played hide-and-seek. She remembered her father’s closet, where she’d feared the entire world had forgotten her until Joey found her. She thought about the expansive lawn where they’d run in the summer, and the little hut the two of them had built together in the trees. With a flicker of memory, she recalled carrying books to the little hideout and finding peace in the quiet.
And a seed of an idea began to grow.
When she got to work the next morning, Sassy began making notes. She had a few things she wanted to check and confirm, but the more she read, the more confident she felt. What she needed now was to get the advice of an expert.
Tom’s door was open, his back to her as he went through his filing cabinet.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey yourself,” he said, turning to face her.
He was wearing a white dress shirt and navy trousers, his black shoes spit polished, which told her that he had a meeting later. His hair was a little less perfect these days, and she thought he might be growing it longer on purpose. She liked it that way.
“Where’s Betty?”
“She wasn’t feeling well, so I told her to stay home and get better.”
“Probably a cold,” Sassy said. “Everyone on the bus was coughing today. Um, Tom, I have an idea I want to run past you.”
He slid the filing cabinet drawer closed. “This sounds serious. Let’s go to lunch.”
She felt a flush of pleasure at the idea, which was a little strange. They were always together these days, either working or talking about work, and yet the idea still excited her.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Far out.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s eleven. Maybe in a half hour?”
After five minutes had passed, she stood in front of his desk. “I can’t find my watch. Is a half hour up yet?”
He laughed. “We can pretend it is,” he said, grabbing his coat and reaching for hers, where it hung by the front door. “Ever been to the Senator? Oldest restaurant in the city.”
“Outta sight,” she said with a smile.
It was an old two-storey building, with the restaurant on the main floor. Booths and a long counter ran down one wall, where a couple of men sat, reading newspapers.
“Tommy!” A man with dark hair and a wide smile walked toward them from the back of the restaurant.
“Cecil,” Tom replied, shaking his hand. “Sassy, this is my good friend Cecil Djambazis, the manager here. Cecil, this is Sassy Rankin—sorry, Susan Rankin.”
Cecil leaned back slightly, as if he was examining her. “No. This can’t be Jim’s little girl. The last time I saw you, you were only this high. You and your little brother.” His expression faltered as his memory returned. “I’m very sorry to hear about your dad. It’s a great loss to the community. I considered him a good friend.”
Sassy thanked him with a quiet smile.
“Yeah. You and your brother. What’s his name again?”
“Joey,” she said.
“Yeah! Joey. I remember now. Well, you sure did grow up nice. Good to meet you again, Susan.”
“You can call me Sassy.”
He grinned. “Is that right. What would your dad say about that?”
“He didn’t think much of the nickname, but he agreed that I earned it.”
Cecil threw back his head and laughed. “Come with me. Let’s find you two a booth. Something to drink?”
“Coca-Cola,” Sassy said, settling at a table, and Tom ordered the same. Keeping it simple, they ordered two club sandwiches.
“So.” Tom sat back, looking curious. “This idea of yours. Let’s hear it.”
Cecil came around the corner, tray in hand. “Coca-Cola for the lady,” he announced, “and one for the ugly guy.”
The sandwiches arrived right away, and she took a few bites, delaying the conversation. What she wanted to propose to Tom was pretty innovative, she thought, but what if he thought it was ridiculous? She didn’t want him to see her as a fool.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Sass,” Tom prodded gently.
She nodded, but her mouth was full.
“You done any thinking on the job offer?” he tried again. “You gonna stay and work with me?”
She lifted one eyebrow. “You’re offering me the job I already have?”
“I’d offer you the moon if you wanted it, Sassy.”
Her cheeks warmed, and she was just as coy in her reply. “I will remember that.”
“You called this meeting, Sassy. What’s the topic?”
She cleared her throat. “Did I tell you that Marion was a psychiatrist at the Ontario Hospital?”
“A few times. I’m looking forward to getting to know her when she’s back.”
“You’ll like her. Anyway, we’ve had some great conversations about the hospital and about when they shut it down. I used to think that was a good idea,” Sassy said. “But I learned a lot from Marion. Just like she said was going to happen, a lot of the former patients are now living on the street.” She’d decided not to tell him about how she’d first met Daniel, huddled on the icy sidewalk. “Here you and I are, gentrifying the city while these patients, people who are mentally ill, have nowhere to live and are freezing outside. What do you think about that?”
“It’s obviously a problem,” he said solemnly. “And it’s going to get worse. Canada’s economy is booming. Over the past four years, our GNP has grown almost ten per cent every year, and investment is rising in nonresidential construction and manufacturing, among other things.”
He was smart, and she knew he tracked the markets, which she was starting to get curious about.
“Why’s it going to get worse if we’re doing so well?”
“Immigration has a lot to do with it. Twenty years ago, the country’s population was just over fourteen million. Now we’re at twenty million, and still growing, and most of those people live in cities. There’s no way, even with the Affordable Housing Act, that the government can keep up the pace of building enough houses to hold them all.”
She took another bite of her sandwich, appreciating the thick layer of mayonnaise. Just the way she liked it. She noticed that Tom had finished his sandwich before she started her second half.
“I’ve thought a lot about Joey lately, obviously, and that’s made me think more about Vietnam, which I hate doing.”
He leaned back in his chair, taking her topic change in stride. “Hard not to.”
“They said the war would end years ago, but North Vietnam is more disciplined than anyone expected.”
“That’s true.”
“Someday, it has to end. Someone will win, but both sides will ultimately lose. So many dead men, not to mention all the women and children. And when it’s over, survivors will return to Canada and the States. Tens of thousands will come back. Where will they go?” She bit her lip, keeping her emotions in check. If she started getting weepy, she’d never finish what she wanted to say. “They’ll be dumped on the street, and no one will care.”
His pale eyes watched hers, shining with sympathy. “People will care.”
“My friend Davey works with TADP. Do you know them? They help out the draft dodgers, finding them homes and jobs. I admire those men who refused to fight. I really do. I still think Joey’s an idiot for going, but everyone has a right to fight for what they believe in.” She dabbed under her nose with a napkin, refusing to cry. “The trouble is, when the men come back from the war, they will discover a lot of the homes have been taken by men who did not fight.” She caught her breath. “I’m sorry, Tom. It will be so hard for them. They need a place they can go.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You’re right about all of it.”
“I wonder about Joey, too. If he comes back, will he be the same man he was?” She took a quick breath. “Ugh. This is not what I wanted to talk about, Tom, but I can’t help it. I want my brother back, but I don’t know who he will be when he gets here. And I don’t know who I will be when he needs me. I feel utterly useless.”
“There’s nothing useless about you, Sassy. You’re smart and creative and compassionate. You have so much love in your heart, and that’s what Joey will need. You are capable of so much. When the time is right, you’ll know exactly what to do.” His gaze lowered to her plate. “Are you going to finish that?”
She shook her head, so he reached across for the rest of the sandwich.
She studied him while he took a bite. Under the table, she crossed her fingers, hoping that her suggestion wasn’t nuts. “Well, I have an idea.”
He grinned. “I had a feeling you did. I’m all ears.”
“After the Great Depression, a lot of people couldn’t afford their big homes, so they sold them and moved farther north. Many of the houses they left were turned into rooming houses. Some have up to eight small rooms, with a common kitchen and washrooms.”
She was glad to see the appreciation in his expression. “Sure, but these days people are buying them back and reverting them to single-family homes. More of that gentrification you like to complain about.”
“Well, what if Rankin Real Estate could slow that down a bit? What if we could buy a couple of those big places and find a way to make them into rooming homes for returning soldiers and former patients who have nothing?”
He chewed on his bottom lip a moment, considering. “That’s a big deal, Sassy. A lot of people take advantage of those situations. Without rules, landlords can take the vulnerable tenants’ money for themselves and leave them to their own devices. The living conditions fall apart, nobody’s watching for safety or anything else, and the people there basically have no rights. That’s a pretty slippery slope.”
“But what if—and I know nothing about this, so stop me if it’s crazy—what if these houses were run properly, like a charity? What if we aligned with the community health centres that Marion told me about and maybe ask the government for funding and whatever else we need? Maybe we could join up with TADP and use their resources, even. I’m sure some of Marion’s fellow doctors would donate time. Who knows? With help, some of the people living there might eventually be able to run the places, then they could start to make money for themselves.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You’ve thought this out.”
“Only a little. I wanted to check with you first. Can we afford something like that?”
He exhaled, his blue eyes fixed on her. “Your dad and I were working on some expensive plans for strip malls and a couple of low-rises. You know he was part owner of your apartment building on Isabella, don’t you?”
Now it was her turn to stare. “I did not.”
“Now you do. As his heir, you are part owner of that building. You and I would have to do a lot of investigating, but we could consider selling that portion to put toward an investment like this if we needed to.”
“So you think it could work?”
“It would not be a moneymaker, Sassy. You know that.”
“I have enough money,” she said, though she still didn’t have the final tally from the lawyer. “What’s the point of having money if you can’t do something good with it?”
His gaze sharpened with interest. She’d seen that look a few times, like when her father had suggested something and dared him to take a risk. It was a look of respect, she realized, and she sat taller, recognizing that. He believed in her idea. He believed in her.
“Let’s go back to the office,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to show you some charts. But first, I have a question. Where’s that spoiled brat I bailed out of jail? She never could have cooked this up.”
“She grew up,” Sassy replied.