"I
think you should keep trying," Gabe said, when Haley met him for her lunch
break.
She
had cooking duty this Sunday at the Lighthouse Women's Shelter, and had gnawed
on the problem the entire time she made breakfast for forty women and children,
then prepared the sandwiches and soup for lunch.
"I
mean, yeah, your roommates might be right, but maybe you should try one more
time. Make sure you talk to someone with some real authority. After all, how
much authority does a switchboard worker have? You never got any further than
the switchboard the whole time you've been talking to actual people -- if they
really are real people there, and not a bunch of computer programs."
His
words earned a snort from her, and he winked.
"And
look at it this way, your lawyer did say you had one last chance of getting
what you want without legal action. Ask them for mediation. What could it hurt?"
Gabe
was right, she decided, as she hurried back to the Lighthouse to figure out
what she had on hand and plan the menus for the coming week. She needed to talk
to someone in charge, the people who made the real decisions. At her first
break the next morning, she would call.
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