Heart Craving by Sandra Hill

mountains.”
    Mrs. Chancellor’s face revealed infinite sadness. “Most of my kids will never have a vacation. They either die young or never leave the ghetto.”
    Paula knew that. Surely, Mrs. Chancellor didn’t think she was an insensitive do-gooder with no understanding of the life-and-death struggle urban children faced every day. That was one of the reasons she yearned to help.
    Raising her chin stubbornly, she continued to explain herself. “I always intended to go to graduate school right after college, but then . . . well, I got married . . .” Oh, Lord! When I met Nick, it was like being hit with a Mack truck of sexual attraction. Those were the days! Nick couldn’t keep his hands off me. Heck, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. School was the last thing I was thinking about then.
    She gulped and went on. “My plans were put aside for a few years. I worked and went to school at night.” She held the social worker’s eyes with a level stare. “This is my dream, Mrs. Chancellor. I want to really make a difference in young people’s lives. Children in desperate need.”
    “It’s not safe here for a woman like you,” she said flatly.
    Like me? Paula bristled. “If I were black, would it be any safer?”
    “No.”
    Paula tossed her hair back over her shoulder, forgetting it was still in a ponytail. “Because I’m a woman?”
    Mrs. Chancellor made a rude snorting sound. “I have just as many women as men on my staff. In fact, sometimes women do a better job reaching these children.”
    “My age? I am twenty-nine, you know.”
    She shook her head.
    “Then what?”
    “Your background. Girl, you have no idea what it’s like to grow up in a project. To see death on a daily basis. To hunger for a better life and know it’s hopeless.”
    “I can learn,” she protested. “And I refuse to accept that it’s hopeless.”
    “Perhaps.” Mrs. Chancellor smiled at her vehemence and tapped her pencil thoughtfully on the desk. “Nick would never forgive me if I hired you.”
    Paula gasped. So that was the reason for Mrs. Chancellor’s attitude. “Nick called you?” she asked incredulously.
    “Oh, yes, Nick called. Threatened to have me arrested for breaking some law or other. Challenged my morals for even considering your application.” Mrs. Chancellor chuckled. “Said he’d stop volunteering for the youth basketball program.”
    “Nick threatened you? Oh, this is too much! How dare he?”
    Mrs. Chancellor waved Paula’s indignation aside. “I’ve known that husband of yours since he was five years old. He doesn’t scare me one bit.”
    Paula thought of something else. “Nick plays basketball with the kids? How long has he been doing that?”
    “Two years.”
    Two years? Before she’d left him. How was it possible that she’d never known? So, all those nights she’d thought he was playing one-on-one at the gym with Skip, he’d actually been down here in the ghetto. Why wouldn’t he talk about such an admirable activity?
    The answer came to her immediately. He knew she’d want to come along to the projects, and he’d spent years trying to prevent her from doing just that.
    “Mrs. Chancellor, Nick and I are getting a divorce. He had no right to call you or—”
    “He’s worried about you. Don’t blame him for caring about your welfare,” Mrs. Chancellor chastised her sternly. “Ninety percent of the women in this project have no husbands. What they wouldn’t give to have a man—anyone, for that matter—who wanted to protect them! So don’t knock the protective instincts of a good man to me, girl.”
    Paula stiffened. “But Nick goes too far. He—never mind, I didn’t come here to discuss my personal problems.” She picked up her purse from the floor and stood. “I can see now that this interview was doomed from the beginning. You’re never going to hire me with Nick breathing over your shoulder.”
    “Now, I never said that,” Mrs. Chancellor interjected quickly