Bless Her Heart

by Sally Kilpatrick

  “He’s an old soul,” Julia said.

  “Yeah,” I said, not really sure how she knew such a thing.

  “Lots of adversity he’s overcome,” she noted.

  “Did you do a reading for him or something?” I asked.

  Julia chuckled. “No, but sometimes I can just tell. People like you and him wear your emotions on your sleeves and are easy to read.”

  “Really?”

  She patted my cheek. “Look at you, still wanting to believe after all you’ve been through. Your nature is to be open and trusting. I’m proud of you.”

  “I need to be less open and less trusting,” I grumbled.

  “No, you need to be more discerning, but trusting the right people is always rewarding. Poor John. He doesn’t have that many friends because he’s not sure whom to trust.”

  I hated to think of John without friends. He was one of the kindest people I knew. Not many people had been kind to him when he first came back to town, and he must’ve remembered what it was like to be an outsider. Even after I rejected him, he still offered me anything. Anything at all.

  That definitely deserved some brownies and the old record I’d found.

  Maybe I’d feel more confident about going to see him after Rain and I went shopping. Maybe.

  chapter 17

  First thing Friday morning, I got the call I’d been waiting for. Ms. Varner admitted she had reservations, but she needed someone to take over Heather’s class and she was going to take a chance on me. I spent that entire day observing the first grade class and talking with the other teachers about lesson plans and schedules, and the whole thing made my head spin. Even so, I left that afternoon with a smile on my face. The ache in my cheeks told me I hadn’t been smiling enough the past few years.

  For once I was doing something I wanted to do.

  My garage sale earnings, while more than I’d hoped for, were still barely enough to make the car payment so I could keep my car. I hadn’t worked at Au Naturel long enough to make much of anything, and now I was leaving Mom in the lurch once again. At least Liza had volunteered to take the register on Friday and Saturday since Mom had no complaints if she brought Nathaniel with her.

  I went straight from the elementary school to Au Naturel where I found Liza and Julia chatting as if they’d been friends forever. I tamped down a stab of jealousy as Julia bounced Nathaniel on her knee. “Afternoon, ladies.”

  “Well, if it isn’t our new elementary schoolteacher,” Liza said.

  “Almost. I officially start on Monday.” And I was nervicited, as Rain used to say when she was little. Half nervous and half excited—and 100 percent on edge. Especially since I still looked over my shoulder for Chad. I’d caught a glimpse of him with Naomi Rawls at the Piggly-Wiggly, but I’d left without milk rather than chance running into them.

  “Julia here did a reading for me,” Liza said with a giggle. “But you had better not tell my mom.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “She says Owen and I will have a girl next.”

  I kept my smile in place. “You aren’t rushing into that, are you?”

  Liza’s eyes went wide. “Oh, hell, no. I do owe your granny a thank you, though, because her cereal idea has worked like a charm.”

  I opened my arms for Nathaniel, and Julia relinquished him. I bounced him and made nonsense sounds until he smiled. He looked happy with the cereal solution, too.

  “Look at my girls.” Mom came down the stairs with a happy glow. It might have taken her a while, but she’d figured out who she wanted to be, and she’d made it happen. I marveled at what she’d done with this store and her studio. It was a place that radiated happiness. She’d built that.

  “And my boy,” she added as she squeezed Nathaniel’s tiny hand then made a face so silly that he giggled.

  We all froze, drinking in the glorious sound of a baby’s giggle.

  “Has he done that before?” I asked Liza.

  “I don’t think so.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon finding new ways to make the baby laugh until all of us were tired from crazy antics and the satisfaction of our own laughter. Remembering my past flirtation with envy, I tried to fill that hollow spot within with Nathaniel’s laughter.

  * * *

  The next morning, Rain burst through my door at nine and jumped on my bed, reminding me of the last Christmas I’d spent in the house. That Christmas would live on in infamy. Rain had set all of the house clocks to seven thirty and then woke us all up at four so she could open presents. We all fell asleep before lunch, but Mom let her get away with it because she said the plan and its implementation showed ingenuity and initiative.

  This time my little sister wasn’t quite as excited, but I did check my phone as well as the alarm clock—just to be sure.

  “Posey! Get up! You need a shower, then you know it’s going to take us at least thirty minutes to get there and I have to get back in time to go fishing with Papi. I’ve gone through all of the sale papers and cut out the coupons. I also circled a bunch of outfits I think would look good on you. Then I think we need to go to the school supply store to make sure you have everything you need. Oh! And I have the money from the stuff I sold on eBay for you and—”

  “Coffee.” Those were the only two syllables I could muster.

  “Those crazy angel things—especially that nativity set—sold for almost five hundred dollars.”

  That number woke me up. “What?”

  I looked to the one figurine I’d kept: it was two angels together and made of porcelain unlike the designer collectible angels Chad had told people I wanted. One angel’s pair of wings had broken off, but I had glued them on. That angel was me. It made sense that the comforting angel still had her wings intact. She was Liza. How funny that all of those angels I’d never really wanted had been the ones to make me enough money to make sure I’d keep my car.

  “Let me speak slowly.” Rain dramatically cleared her throat. “You. Now. Have. Five. Hundred. Dollars. As. Soon. As. PayPal. Releases. It.”

  I threw back the covers and gathered what I needed to take a shower. Maybe I wouldn’t even need Chad’s credit card.

  That resolve didn’t last long once Rain explained to me that she didn’t have the cash in hand. Also, her enthusiasm washed over me as she steered me from store to store, showing me clothes that better fit my body type. She also talked me into that pair of cowboy boots. Obviously, I needed work clothes. And work shoes. And a new purse. And makeup.

  She knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the book store or the school supply store. I bought two romance novels of my own, one book on elementary pedagogy and one self-help book about surviving divorce. I bought a book for Mom and a new outfit for Granny’s “baby.” Once we’d eaten our celebratory cookies, we left for home since Rain had a fishing date with her father. On the way home we rolled down the windows and sang along to songs that had been popular when I was in high school.

  The moment we got home and unpacked everything from the trunk, Mom pricked the balloon of my euphoria when she took a look at all of the bags we’d brought home and simply said, “Posey.”

  Granny boosted me up again, though, as she clapped her hands together and shouted, “Is it Christmas? I love Christmas!”

  “Not yet,” I said, resolving to let Granny have as many Christmases as she wanted, “but it’s coming. Anything in particular you want Santa to bring you?”

  “Tom Brokaw.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  “What? He’s a good-looking man. Also he owes me child support,” she said, gesturing down to the baby doll in the little cradle she absently rocked with her foot. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or if she really thought she was rocking Tom Brokaw’s love child.

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I don’t know how Mr. Brokaw feels about being stuffed inside a bag.”

  “Well, if you can’t bring me handsome Tom, then I’d like some of that fancy Godiv
a chocolate. I’ve never tried it.”

  That I could do.

  Rain came through the front door, cheeks pink from the exertion of helping me bring in bags. “I think that’s it. Now go start trying them on so Mom and Granny can see the fashion show.”

  I returned in a knit shirt that showed off what little cleavage I had and the softest, best fitting pair of jeans I had ever owned.

  “Ooh la la,” Mom said. “Now, who paid for that one?”

  “Chad bought it,” Rain said before I had a chance to answer her.

  Mom’s lips formed a thin line. “Posey, I agree with you that he owes you no less, but men like him can’t let a slight go. I’d rather have you safe than well-dressed, and it’s not wise to provoke a man after you’ve taken out a restraining order on him.”

  “I have a Taser on the way, and Julia’s going to show me how to use it. If he comes near me again, then he’ll be shocked and then arrested,” I said. Rain had picked out the perfect pair of jeans. Turns out my hips weren’t really that out of proportion so much as the dresses Chad preferred weren’t flattering to my body type. The cowboy boots Rain had talked me into were about a hundred times more comfortable than the flats I’d been wearing, too.

  “And what if he takes your Taser away and uses it on you before the police can get to you, Posey Lucille?”

  “Hey! That’s my name,” Granny said. “Well, the Lucille part. I don’t know about this ‘Posey’ business. Sounds like a hippie name, if you ask me.”

  I didn’t care for what Mom suggested, but she had a point. So far I hadn’t done a very good job of defending myself.

  She continued, “It’d be one thing if you were proficient in martial arts or something, but he’s bigger than you and now he’ll be even more motivated.”

  I sighed. To keep all of these clothes, far more clothes than I’d ever need, would be greedy. And I was doing it mainly to lord something over my soon-to-be ex-husband. Buying a bunch of stuff wouldn’t plug the holes of what had been stolen from me.

  Greed.

  After my first few run-ins with the Seven Deadly Sins, I’d told myself to quit. Seemed like the sins were following me now.

  Greed was not my favorite, but this pair of jeans absolutely was. “Fine. I’ll return some of it and repay him for the rest.”

  “You will not!” Rain shouted indignantly.

  “Mom’s right. He’s getting worse by the minute.”

  “But those jeans make your ass look spectacular, and it’s poetic justice considering all that he took from you.”

  I looked to my mother.

  “Those jeans do look fantastic,” she said grudgingly. “But I don’t trust him. Also? Karma.”

  “Maybe her karma was preemptive. Maybe this is his karma for being such a jerk,” Rain said, her arms folded over her chest.

  Mom’s eyes met mine. “Posey, just be careful.”

  “Hello?” Santiago called as he opened the door.

  “Papi!” Rain cried, jumping up to run to him. He barely had time to step inside before she launched herself at the barrel-chested man who swung her around easily.

  “Mi reina, mija! Mi cielo, mi alma,” he said hugging her tightly. She made a show of wanting to break up the hug but giggled. They’d played out this scenario at least a hundred times over the years.

  Finally he held her at arm’s length. “This how you gonna go fishing, Mija?”

  She tossed her glossy black hair over one shoulder. “Yeah. There a problem?”

  “Santi, she loves to smell of fish guts and to smear them all over her nicest clothes.”

  “Mom!”

  “Oh, I see. You want to go to church tomorrow smelling of Eau de Fish, eh?” he added.

  “Gosh, don’t take her side,” Rain said.

  “I am always on her side, so you need to change your clothes, don’t you think?” he said.

  Rain stomped off.

  “Your call, but you might want to put that pretty hair in a ponytail,” Mom called down the hall.

  Santi looked at Mom with a smile on his face, but when she met his eyes they both frowned. If their banter were any indication, my mother and Santiago still had all of the feelings for one another, which explained why my mother hadn’t dated a soul since they’d officially broken up about five years ago—not that any of us knew why.

  Rain returned in ratty jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with her feet in the green boots she hated and her hair in a ponytail. She had, however, added a new coat of lip gloss. “Let’s go.”

  “Only if you tell me en español.”

  “Vámanos, Papi!”

  “As long as you haven’t forgotten everything Abuelita and I have taught you,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching because he loved to tease his daughter.

  “I have a one-hundred average in Spanish Four. Please.”

  “Por favor,” he supplied helpfully. She smacked his arm, and the two left chattering in Spanish, which was, now that I thought about it, how they also discussed our Christmas presents each year. I chuckled. Señor Brokaw would be hard to hide in the conversation even if it were in Spanish. When I looked over to my mother, her smile had faded into longing.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “Hmm, what? Oh, yes. I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look fine. She looked bereft. “Did Santiago ever hurt you?”

  She sat up quickly. “No, of course not! Nothing like that. If anything, I think I hurt him.”

  That was the end of the conversation and also the end of the fashion show since Mom had to go to work soon and Granny didn’t care. In fact, now she lay back against the recliner she sat in, snoring lightly. I walked back to my room and laid out all of my new clothes on the bed. It hadn’t taken as long to rack up five thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise as I had thought it would. Each piece had been selected out of love or necessity. I fingered a teal blouse that I particularly liked. I supposed I could part with it.

  Not the jeans, though. One simply did not return a pair of perfectly fitting jeans.

  Looking from one treasure to another, I wanted to keep every last thing I’d bought.

  For once in my life I had only bought what I wanted without any thought to the price. I’d bought expensive makeup, but I could return it and get something similar at Target now that I’d learned some of the techniques from the makeover Rain had talked me into getting. I put the makeup to the side first. It was something Rain loved far more than I did.

  Next I put aside some of the school supplies. I didn’t need them for a supply position. I’d bought them in the excited mania of knowing I would have a classroom, even if only temporarily. I could return those and buy more if I managed to snag a job the following year.

  I sat on the bed and grunted as I yanked and tugged off the cowboy boots. I loved them, but I didn’t need them. At least I knew a size and a brand for someday when I had enough money of my own. I gently lay them back in their box, putting the wadded paper back at their toes and tucking them into their tissue paper.

  “I’m sorry I ended your fashion show,” Mom said from the doorway where she leaned. “I should stay out of your business, let you make your own decisions. I had no idea Chad would ever hurt you, and I’m worried, that’s all.”

  I wanted to tell her that I could handle myself, but past experience suggested otherwise.

  As if reading my mind, she said, “I haven’t had the best track record with men. What do I know?”

  Another of her cryptic references to the past, but just the opening I needed. “Speaking of your track record with men, who is my father?”

  She looked away. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Yes, you’ve been telling me that my whole life, but even Henny knows who his dad was, and that man was horrible.”

  “Not one of my better decisions,” she said with a shaky breath.

  “Surely, my father can’t be any worse than his,” I muttered as I slammed clothes into bags, keep
ing only what I could pay for with my PayPal money. Mom was right. I needed to return what I couldn’t afford and do whatever it took to get Chad to leave me alone.

  “I don’t think he is,” she said.

  “You don’t think? I think I have a right to know.”

  “You know what? Don’t return this stuff just yet,” she said.

  “What?”

  Was she seriously attempting one of her famous subject changes? I was too old to fall for it. I would ask her every day, three times a day, until she told me just to get me to shut up.

  She held out one finger as she answered her own phone, listening intently before saying “I don’t know how you got this number, but you can forget you ever learned it.”

  She held the phone away from her ear as an angry male voice spilled out. When he’d talked himself hoarse, she put the phone back to her ear. “No, I will not give you her number, especially not after the stunt you pulled.”

  I mouthed “Who is it?” and she waved me off.

  “Well, it serves you right. I hope she buys more,” my mother said. She vibrated with rage.

  Chad. Had to be. Mom was about to disconnect the phone, but I motioned for it because I wasn’t going to let her fight my battles no matter how much I wanted to.

  “What do you want, Chad?”

  “What do I want? What do I want? You have the audacity to take my credit card on a shopping spree and then ask me what I want?”

  “Well?”

  “I want you to return every last thing you bought.”

  “No.” It didn’t matter that I’d been meaning to do just that. At the hateful, controlling sound of his voice I rebelled. My audacity? He’d somehow weaseled my mother’s private number from someone and was calling her to irritate me.

  “You will,” he said. “If it’s the last thing you do. I told you time and time again not to overspend.”

  “You are no longer the boss of me. If you hadn’t left me and cleaned out our checking account then I wouldn’t have needed a new job and the clothes for it.”

  I looked at my mother. She nodded her understanding.