The Least of These

By Lee'ah D. B. Giaquinto

The story opens with Sabrina, a well seasoned personal injury attorney, contemplating a different trajectory in life. She stumbles upon an old family practice that may help her seek a new path, or at a minimum, gain self-fulfillment.

At just five years-old, Teddie is taken from her mother and placed in foster care, where she remains until college. Never understanding why her mother didn’t come for her, and overwhelmed with the reality that she will enter adulthood on her own, Teddie is released from the foster care system to make it on her own.

Angela struggles to battle depression on her own. After losing yet another job and apartment, Angela doesn’t want to go home to her mother, but doesn’t want to face life on the street either. She is running out of options.

Sabrina’s decision to follow in the steps of her family legacy intercepts the paths of Teddie and Angela. The three women begin sharing the same living space, trying to uplift each other, while holding onto hope, and searching for the meaning of family and life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zimbell House Publishing
• Release date: Aug 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781945967795

Lee'ah D. B. Giaquinto

As a lawyer, Lee'ah Giaquinto has made it her mission to ensure that people are treated fairly under the law. Lee'ah was raised on Detroit's northwest side. She describes Detroit as a very real, gritty urban city that has lots of textures, colors, and flavors that color her writing. She resides in Michigan, with her husband, Nicholas and son, Marcus, along with their pug, Pepper. Lee'ah's love of fiction led her to pursue her dream of being an author. In her debut novel, The Least of These, Lee'ah explores issues surrounding family, hope, love and finding oneself. To connect with Lee’ah, please visit her website at: http://www.leeahgiaquinto.com

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. All characters appearing in this work are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written permission of the publisher.

For permission requests, write to the publisher at the address below:

Attention: Permissions Coordinator

Zimbell House Publishing, LLC

PO Box 1172

Union Lake, Michigan 48387

email to: [e-mail]

© 2017 Lee’ah D.B. Giaquinto

Book and Cover Design by The Book Planners

A Division of Zimbell House Publishing

Published in the United States by Zimbell House Publishing

Distributed by Smashwords

All Rights Reserved

Print ISBN: 978-1-945967-77-1

Digital ISBN: 978-1-945967-79-5

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017910925

First Edition: August/2017

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Zimbell House Publishing

Union Lake

Dedication

For my husband, Nicholas, for encouraging me to write. His words of love and courage are with me always.

For my son, Marcus, who inspires me every day.

For my mother, Diane, who gave me her faith, love, and respect for the ancestors.

Contents

Prologue

One ~ Sabie

Two ~Teddie

Three ~ Antie May (1940)

Four ~ Angela

Five ~ Sabie Begins the Mission

Six ~ Green with a Big Heart

Seven ~ Searching for Shelter

Eight ~ Meeting at St. CeCe's

Nine ~ Testing the Waters

Ten ~ The Lord Will Make a Way (Summer 1941)

Eleven ~ Once Again

Twelve ~ The Next Phase of Their Lives

Thirteen ~ Meeting the Family

Fourteen ~ Going Home

Fifteen ~ Grace Comes in Different Forms

Sixteen ~ Watershed Event

Seventeen ~ Another Resident

Eighteen ~ Wolfe's Garden

Nineteen ~ Sabie, Teddie, and Angela

Twenty ~ Not Shrinking Away (Late Fall 1941)

Twenty-One ~ Hopeful

Twenty-Two ~ Forgiveness

Epilogue

About the Author

Reader's Guide

A Note from the Publisher

"I do not understand the mystery of Grace,

only that it meets us where we are and does not

leave us where it found us."

-Ann Lamont

Prologue

I asked God to walk with me today. To direct my heart, mind, and spirit to act in tandem so that I may gain understanding.

I didn’t have IT—to put on the superwoman costume, show up, and be that person that I am expected to be. Oh… how I long to sit in an enchanted garden and daydream. I imagine sitting on a comfy bench inhaling the fragrance of flowers and earth floating all around me. A day where there isn't a knot in my chest giving me pause as I attempt to breathe. A day where there isn't a task, meeting, or activity that requires me to show up and be more than I want to be.

I decided to work from home. More specifically, my neighborhood Panera Bread. When the thought entered my spirit, the knot in my chest slowly released its grip. I didn’t have to go today, but there would be no garden. No flowers. Just me at a table next to a window, staring at the blandness of it all. I would try to force my mind and fingers to connect to write the brief that was due the following week. I knew I could not stay home completely as I would simply sit on the window seat, brew cup after cup of tea and watch the day pass. Not caring who thought what or why. I’d sit there trying to figure out how to change the trajectory of my life.

One

Sabie

Brie, where is Sabrina? Mr. Johns inquired.

She’s working from home today, Brie responded peering at him over her reading glasses. This isn’t the first time that Mr. Johns has barged into Sabie’s office demanding to know where she was. He’s from the old school of thinking. One of those partners who believe that an associate should be glued to his or her desk from sun up to sundown unless they're in court or at a deposition. He would not allow himself to embrace the new way of doing things. The majority of the partners embrace the new culture as they have families and need the flexibility too.

Associates were attending meetings by Skype or Google Hangouts, working from home and bringing kids to work on snow days. There have been days where the main conference room was turned into one big, noisy, playroom. Mr. Johns would become so confounded by the invasion of children; he’d retreat to his office and not reappear until the end of the day. The associates loved these days, his discomfort. There was nothing he could do about it as a few of those attending were the children of partners who possessed controlling interests in the firm.

Mr. Johns tries, from time to time, to make a showing of some type of control. The staff will show some deference simply to make him go back to his office and brood. When he asked Brie about Sabie’s whereabouts, she simply answered his question and returned to her work. Brie knew nothing further would come of it.

***

I’d like the Fuji Apple Chicken Salad and the Green Passion Power Smoothie, Sabie said. While some may choose to sit at a table in a Starbucks and sip mochas, Sabie preferred Panera Bread. I should buy stock in Panera! she thought as she waited for her order. She loved the smell of baking bread, the salads, soups, and souffles. If she couldn’t stay home and trust herself to get work done, this was her ideal place to work.

The brief was near completion. The salad and smoothie were just what she needed to get her through it. She emailed the brief to Brie so she could prepare the index plus the table of authorities and e-file it with the court. Before returning home, Sabie decided to check her work email. One email was from a client screaming at her in all capital letters that he wanted his money now. Sabie sat back in her chair, took a long, deep breath and sighed.

He refused to accept mediation, which was reasonable, she thought, now he wants HIS money. She explained the process to him a thousand times. The case was scheduled for a settlement conference with the judge. If the case did not settle, then there would be a jury trial. She drafted a response, again explaining the process, the date of the settlement conference and sent it. The next email was from Mr. Johns inquiring about the status of the brief. She responded to that one as well. There were at least twenty other emails that needed her attention. She took another deep breath and dived in.

At the beginning of her career, Sabie was optimistic that she could help people through the practice of law. After being a prosecuting attorney for several years, she decided to work for a firm that practiced personal injury law, among other things. Initially, she believed that she was truly helping people by obtaining good settlements and judgments. One day the optimism lens cleared, and she saw the reality. Sure, good settlements and judgments were being obtained, but what did money truly do for these people? There were clients who were satisfied with the money they received. Their lives would not be the same, but they would take the money, perhaps buy a house and stability. They understood that life must go on and would use the money to try to build a better, but different life than before. These were the minority. There were those whose accident and injuries became a watershed event. They couldn't get past it and go on with life. This group was not happy with anything said, done or amount offered.

The cases that bothered Sabie the most were those clients that were severely injured, who could never return, not only to their lives before the accident but to what we all think of as a normal life. Those clients required wheelchair ramps and home modifications. There was no amount of money that could make up for this. The never-to-lead a normal life and the unhappy, never satisfied clients weighed heavily on Sabie.

The bubble she built to protect her spirit from the inherent, negative energy loses its shape from time to time, causing her to struggle to keep such energy at bay so that she can continue her work. The clients that hug her and send thank you notes fill up the bubble and give her the strength to continue. Lately, however, those clients were becoming few and far between. She was representing those who wanted their money now, and are never satisfied. The bubble had become misshapen, and Sabie was having difficulty putting it back into perspective.

Pepper was waiting for Sabie at the garden door when she returned home. Are you ready to go out? Sabie cooed. A brisk walk in the cold will do me good. She put on Pepper’s coat and boots to protect her paws from the salt placed on sidewalks to melt ice and snow. Sabie bundled up as well. It was often below freezing in Michigan during the month of January. Winter days could be drab and gray, but that did not stop Michiganders from being outside.

Sabie and Pepper walked down Cranford Lane toward Notre Dame. Cranford Lane is only one block long, one block of multiple condominium units. Sabie’s building, which held the corner of Cranford Lane and Cadieux, was over one hundred years old. It stands regally with such character and grace that one would think that it is one of those beautiful English manors.

Cranford Lane looked like a wondrous winter landscape. There was a blanket of snow covering the grass and sidewalks. The snow was airbrushed by Mother Nature onto the bare branches of the hibernating trees. Snowflakes mesmerizingly cascaded from the sky. Sabie walked and Pepper snorted along beside her. The cold air can be hard on Pepper's breathing. Pugs have difficulty breathing in the heat of summer and in extremely cold weather due to their short snouts, but Pepper loved to go out into the snow and stretch her short legs.

Sabie and Pepper continued to walk through the neighborhood. Light flurries continued to drift downward from the sky. Sabie was always amazed at how layers of snow on sidewalks and roadways could muffle sound. When taking Pepper out during the early morning hours before work, when the city was not yet awake, the layers of snow would muffle even the slightest sound, making the winter landscape feel like a peaceful respite from the world.

It was late afternoon approaching early evening. Surprisingly, there weren't many people out. Grosse Pointe is a walking city, and most residents walk to dinner, shopping, or coffee. As Sabie walked, she began thinking about work, and the brief. She wondered whether Mr. Johns acted in his normal manner and stopped by her office to determine whether she was in. She thought about calling the client that sent the demanding email. Suddenly the knot in her chest began to tighten again. She scolded herself, let it be. She began focusing on each step, the crisp air, and the flurries. The knot began to release her again.

Sabie placed the mail on the leaf of the secretary. She took Pepper's coat and boots off and placed them back in her bin which contained Pepper's coats, Detroit Tigers’ jersey, and Michigan State bandana. Pepper jumped up onto the cushioned window seat and curled up for a nap.

Sabie thumbed through the mail and decided that there was nothing that needed her immediate attention. To avoid thinking about work and whether she should call Brie to check in, she decided the secretary needed a good polishing. The secretary had been in her family for generations. It was given to her great-aunt by her great-grandfather. When she died, it was given to her grandmother. When her grandmother passed, it was given to her mother. Her mother gave it to her when she graduated from law school. Growing up, Sabie knew that the secretary would be hers when her mother died, but she was reduced to tears when her mother had it delivered to her apartment after graduation.

Mom … why are you giving the secretary to me now? It's not my time, Sabie said.

Sabie, God put it on my heart to give it to you now, she replied. Ella was selfless like that; she gave from her heart.

When Sabie moved to the condo, she put the secretary in the living room on the wall adjacent to the picture window. It was odd sometimes to see a laptop sitting on the leaf of an old, treasured antique that her great-aunt, Antie May, used when she was a young woman living in Georgia. When Sabie's family migrated to Detroit, the secretary migrated as well.

As she polished the wood and lightly oiled the metal joints that allow the leaf to descend, she began opening the various compartments and drawers and tried to imagine what her great-aunt would have stored within. There was a small, carved door in the center of the secretary that becomes visible as soon as the leaf descends. The door is rounded on the left with hinges and opens to the right. The carving is of a tree, its roots, and branches. It looked like the oak tree in the movie, Forrest Gump. Sabie wondered what Antie May kept in this compartment as it was the secretary's center. She opened it and remembered that her mother left several letters in envelopes tucked behind the door. She thought she really needed to return the letters to her mother.

Sabie pulled out the letters and noted that each letter was actually a sheet of stationery, one with flowers and butterflies etched throughout the paper folded into a matching envelope. She took the letter out of the envelope and noted the handwriting swirled from line to line on the paper. It wasn’t her mother's handwriting. She sat, confused. She always assumed that the letters were written by her mother and she had not had the opportunity to mail them. She grabbed her reading glasses and began to read.

My Dear Sister,

I want you to take care of my secretary. You are the only person left on this earth that knows how much it means to me and the sacrifices Papa had to make to have it made. Do you remember when Papa bought it for me? We were living in Georgia. Oh, how I danced and cried for hours! I know that you will cherish this gift as much as I do.

In accepting this gift, you must also carry on my work. Making a place for others, especially those that have