She glanced back at Occidental Park, then into Waterfall Park once again. The parks here weren’t much like the parks she was familiar with, and nothing like Sinnissippi Park, but she supposed you made do with what you had.
She crossed Second Avenue and began to read the numbers on the buildings. There was no sign identifying Fresh Start, but she found the building number easily enough and went through the front door.
Once inside, she found herself in a lobby that was mostly empty. .A heavyset black woman sat at a desk facing the door, engaged in writing something on a clipboard, and a Hispanic woman sat holding her baby on one of a cluster of folding chairs that lined the windowless walls of the room. Behind the black woman and her desk, a hallway led to what looked like an elevator.
Almost immediately Nest experienced an odd feeling of uneasiness. She glanced around automatically in an effort to locate its source, but there was nothing to see.
Shrugging it off, she walked up to the desk and stopped. The black woman didn’t look up. “Can I help you., young lady?”
“I’m looking for John Ross,” Nest told her. “Does he work here?”
The black lady’s eyes lifted, and she have Nest a careful once-over. “He does, but he’s not here right now. Would you like to wait for him? He shouldn’t be gone long.”
Nest nodded. “Thanks’ She looked around at the empty seats, deciding where to sit.
“What’s your name, young lady?” The black woman regained her attention.
“Nest Freemark.”
“Nest. Now, that’s an unusual name. Nest. Very different. I like it. Wish I had a different name like that. I’m Dells, Nest. Della Jerkins.”
She stuck out her hand and Nest shook it. The handshake was firm and businesslike, but warm, too. “Nice to meet you.” Nest said.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Della said, and smiled now. “I work intake here at the center. Been at it from the start. How do you know John? Isn’t anyone ever came in before that knows John. I was beginning to think he didn’t have a life before he came here. I was beginning to think he was one of those pod people.” She laughed.
Nest grinned. “Well, I don’t know him very well. He was a friend of my mother’s’ She shaded the truth deliberately, unwilling to give anything away she didn’t have to. “I was in town, and I thought I ought to stop in and say hello.”
Della nodded. “Well, how about that? John was a friend of your mother’s. John doesn’t talk much about his past life with us.
Hardly at all. A friend of your mother’s. How about that.” She seemed amazed. Nest blushed. “Oh, now, don’t you be embarrassed, Nest. I’m just making conversation to hide my surprise at anybody knowing John from before hum corning here. “you know, really, he spends all his time with Stef that’s Stefanie Winslow,•, his . . . oh, what do you call it, I always forget? Oh, that’s right, his ‘significant other.”” Sounds so awkward, saying it like that, doesn’t it? His significant other. Anyway, that’s what Stefanie is. Real pretty girl, his sweetheart. Do anything for him. They came here together about a year ago, and neither one of them talks hardly at all about what went on before.”
Nest nodded, distracted. The uneasiness vas stealing over her again, a persistent tugging that refused to be ignored. She couldn’t understand where it was coming from. She had never experienced anything like it.
Della stood up abruptly. “You want a cup of coffee while you wait, Nest? Tell you what. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll introduce you to a few of the people who work here, some of John’s friends, let them catch you up on what he’s been doing? He’s downtown at the Seattle Art Museum checking things out for tomorrow night. Big dedication party. Simon’s giving a speech John wrote, thanking the city and so forth for the building, their support and all. You probably don’t know about that, but John can fill you in later. C’mon, young lady, right this way,”