by Lisa De Jong
Papa says quietly, “I don’t know your story, Davis, and I don’t have to know...but I know you need a place. You’re welcome here in this hodgepodge of a family.”
Davis shocks us all by wrapping his arms around Papa and then grabbing me and Ruby. Gracie is squished in the middle, but she doesn’t mind. She knows it doesn’t get any better than this.
Chapter 25
Isaiah
“Do you have that last kitchen box, Isaiah?” I hear Mama calling from the dining room.
“Yes, ma’am. Right here.” I pass her and take the box to the kitchen.
“Thank you, son. It’s coming together! Look at this pretty view out our window.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I look out where she’s pointing but can’t really focus.
We’ve moved again. Someone set our house on fire in Tulma a little over a year and a half ago. I wanted to be there in case Caroline ever came back, but Mama never felt safe there again. Everyone—even the police—knew it was Les’s family, but they never found any proof, so we got out of there. We decided on Memphis after I brought Mama on one of my trips and she liked it, but it took time to find a house that we could afford. It’s a lot more expensive here.
We like it here, far better than Tulma. I’m in my second year at the U of M, studying business, so I can run my own construction company. During the summers, I’ve worked with Dan Carson ever since he sobered up.
When Caroline first left, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Anytime Tulma started suffocating me, I’d drive over to Memphis and check on Dan. That first weekend when I found him was hell. I didn’t even know if he’d remember me when I went back the second time, but he did. He let me in the door every time. I raged against him for leaving his daughter. He agreed he was a worthless son of a bitch. I talked maniacally about Caroline, while he wept maniacally. We’ve been a mess together ever since. Except he’s gotten so much better.
I guess I’m better too, but it’s like she’s looking over my shoulder, or just around the corner, just far enough out of my reach that I feel her, but when I look, she’s not there. It’s how I imagine it would feel to be haunted by a ghost.
“Isaiah?” Mama’s hand is waving in front of my face.
I blink. “Sorry, Mama. What were you saying?”
She shakes her head and puts her hand on my arm. “It’s time to move on, son. A new start. We’re settled…doesn’t it feel good? This is our home now, we don’t have to look back or move in a few months…we can just look ahead. Right?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Why don’t I believe you? You still have that distant look in your eye that lets me know you’re not fully here with me yet.” She lays her head over on my shoulder. “I know you wish you could find her…but…I don’t think she wants to be found.”
Her words burn a hole in my chest. I know she’s right.
“Dan still looks for her too. He wants to make it right with her.”
“As he should…but you’re a different story. He left her; she left you.”
“But she thought she was doing what was best for me. She was scared. I know she needs me.”
“She did do what was best for you. You didn’t need the heartache of fighting with someone at every restaurant you go in or the glares you’d see whenever you held hands walking down the street. Neither one of you did. Neither one of you need to go through any more hardship. Life has dealt you both enough of that without having it every day, staring you in the face.”
“I’ll always have it every day, staring me in the face. I’m black, I can’t change that. And I can’t forget her.”
“You’re not even trying…”
“Because I don’t want to, Mama,” I say harshly and then try to soften my tone so I don’t show her disrespect. “I don’t want to forget her.”
She pats my cheek and then turns to pull something out of one of the boxes. “I know. We’ll never forget her.” She’s busy for a minute and then says, “What about that nice girl Nia told you about—the one who’s coming to school here in January?”
My cousin Nia moved to Tulma right after Caroline left and we got pretty close. She never saw me with Caroline though, so she didn’t see the connection we had. She’s tried to set me up with someone new every time we go visit. The last time I was with her, she swore she had the one and my mom overheard. I wanted to kill Nia.
“Shanelle,” I answer.
“Yes, Shanelle. She sounds like a nice girl.”
I shake my head and walk out of the room. I need to be done with this conversation before I say something I really regret.
I walk into my room and think maybe I should have moved into the dorm after all. Next year…
It doesn’t take me long to unpack. Each move has gotten easier. I don’t accumulate junk and only have what is absolutely necessary in my room. Not much. It makes for a sterile, but clean and depressing space. Suffice it to say, I probably won’t be in here much.
I have one picture of Caroline. It’s one I took with my Polaroid the day she left Tulma. She came by the house to tell me goodbye and as she walked out the door, I grabbed my camera off the coffee table and ran out. I said her name and she turned around. I snapped the picture and captured her beauty in a quick second. She didn’t even stay long enough to see how it turned out.
“If it’s not good, promise you’ll throw it away and don’t have that be the last way you see me.” She smiled and walked away. Got in her mom’s car and rode off.
When I couldn’t see her taillights anymore, I looked down and saw the picture that had formed. Her eyes were the last to come into focus and when they did, I took the picture inside and studied it for the rest of the night.
I finally stopped sleeping with the picture, afraid I’d smash it in my sleep.
Every time I unpack it, I prop it up in front of the lamp on my desk. Caroline’s eyes stare at me, summoning me…they tell me she loves me and that she doesn’t want me to ever give up on her.
But that was a long time ago.
Who knows what she thinks by now. I may never know.
Chapter 26
Renovations
I’ve gotten really attached to Davis over the last couple of months. He has this quiet, but playful way about him that calms me and is fun all at the same time. If I’m ever having a rough day with customers or if Gracie is being a handful, Davis smiles this slow, lazy smile that makes me feel like things aren’t so bad after all. And Gracie is over the moon about him. The feeling is mutual.
Besides, it’s nice having another young person in the house.
Over breakfast this morning, Papa said something about me only being seventeen. Davis has gone around all day shaking his head every time he sees me.
“Seventeen!” he says, like he’ll never get over the shock.
Finally, after the umpteenth time of him saying it, I put my hands on my hips. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”
“Well, you look a lot older, for one thing,” he finally admits. He seems embarrassed, but I’m tired of him going on about it.
“Like an ‘old woman’ older? Or just older than seventeen?”
I really want to know the answer because there have been times over the past year that I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and been appalled by how different I look. It’s like the pain has all shown up on the outside of my face, while my insides have actually gotten a little bit lighter.
“Well, no, you don’t look like an old woman. I did think more like twenty-four or twenty-five.” He ducks his head. “You just look so…so…weary,” he stutters. “And you have Gracie, so I thought…”
“Weary…” I nod. “Yeah, that pretty much describes it.”
I can’t even be offended because I know he’s exactly right.
“You’re still real…” His voice fades out and his cheeks turn a shade darker than I’m used to seeing on him.
There’s a long, painful pause, so I jump in. “Whew, well, that’s goo
d to know. What would we do if I wasn’t real?” I tease him.
He turns even redder.
“You’re still real pretty, Caroline,” he practically whispers.
For some reason, I go all splotchy. It’s been a while since I’ve turned red. I’ve sorta stopped being so self-conscious the longer I’ve been away from Mama.
I look at my feet and he clears his throat.
“Thanks, Davis,” I say softly.
He starts to walk away and I call after him. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” he says before he turns the corner. And the smile he flashes me is a mixture of pure orneriness and something that looks like resolve.
****
Christmas is gorgeous at the Inn. We find the perfect tree out past the vineyards on Papa’s property. Davis cuts it down and straps it on the back of his truck. The tree is at least twelve feet tall and looks magnificent in the living room. Before we start decorating, Papa supervises by being the Taster of all the Treats. Brenda and I make eggnog, while Ruby and Gracie work on Christmas cookies. Gracie is standing on a little stool that Davis built for her, so she can reach the countertop. It has helped tremendously—before she had the stool, she would try to use the tricycle to stand taller. The girl has become surprisingly agile.
Davis wanders in and leans over to see how Gracie is decorating her cookies.
“I like that green on there,” he says quietly and plants a kiss on her cheek.
Gracie turns around and puts her hands up on his face to kiss his cheek too. When she gets green frosting on his ear, she giggles.
“Mess,” she says.
“You’re a mess,” he says and tickles her side.
She reaches up to hold onto him and gets even more frosting on him.
“Oh, now you’ve gone and done it,” he teases and tickles her harder.
****
Gracie steals the show on Christmas morning. I don’t think any of us have ever had more fun than we do, watching her open presents. She does a little gasp and puts her hand to her mouth with every present. I can’t get over it. She even gives each one of us a hug and a kiss—without prompting—when we tell her who the present is from. My little lady. She makes my heart explode with love.
After all the presents have been opened and the affection has been doled out, we sit down to a feast. Ruby has been cooking for days and it’s worth every shooing out of the kitchen we’ve had to endure in the week leading up to the festivities.
I barely think about Isaiah, well…except long enough to wonder if he’s spending Christmas with that girl, if he’s happy, if he looks old too, and to ask myself if he ever still thinks of me at all.
****
Work on my ‘attic getaway’—as it has been dubbed—has been underway since the day after Christmas. Seeing that we had a lull in the Inn’s schedule, we went ahead and closed the Inn and decided to have a little vacation ourselves. If you count completely remodeling the attic of a huge plantation home as a vacation.
Davis has put in more hours than I can count. He’s done some of the work for the past month but avoided being too loud while guests were with us. Now he’s going strong, day and night, and we’re all pitching in to help as much as we can. There’s giddiness in the air about how the space is shaping up—I can’t stay out of there. It’s so pretty. The floors are buffed to a fine finish, and the walls have been painted a buttery yellow.
A few days into the work, I lay Gracie down for her nap and head up to the attic to see the progress. Davis hears me coming and tries to block me from coming in all the way.
“I want to see what you’re working on—I haven’t gotten to come up all morning!” I huff.
“I know! I’m finally getting some work done!” He gives me as much of a steely glare as he can manage.
It just makes me laugh.
“Come on, let me in.”
“No, I’m not going to let you back in here until it’s finished,” he says with a grin.
“Are you smirking at me?” I shake my head. “Oh no you don’t. You’re a perfectionist and it will take you forever if I don’t get in there to help you finish.”
I try to brush past him, but he grabs both my shoulders and holds me firm.
There’s something different in his touch now than the hug he gave all of us in the kitchen that day with Papa and Ruby. Something about it reminds me of how long it’s been since I’ve had physical contact with a boy. It’s been about two years, three months, two weeks and two days, to be exact. I back up like I’ve been shot and run back down the stairs, all the way to the main floor, and out to the garden.
****
I stay out of his way the rest of the week, telling myself that I’m just giving him space, not breathing down his neck and getting underfoot…but really, I’m still trying to process what happened, or more like what didn’t happen between us the other day. Because nothing happened. And nothing will. Because I don’t need a dumb boy latching on to my heart.
****
After a big pork supper, collard greens, black-eyed peas and cornbread—the traditional food you have to eat on New Year’s Day if you want to have good luck all year—Davis shifts in his seat and makes an announcement.
“After supper, I’d like everyone to come up to the attic,” he says without looking at me.
It’s then I realize he’s been avoiding me too.
Ruby claps her hands together and I stare at her.
“Have you seen it already, Ruby?” I ask.
She shrugs, but by the way her lips are curling up, I’d say she has.
“Well, I never. Have you seen it too, Papa?”
He raises his eyebrows and gives a shrug too. His twinkling eyes give him away.
“I see it, Mama!” Gracie says loudly.
“You’ve seen it?”
“I see it!” she repeats.
“No, she hasn’t seen it yet, Caroline,” Davis says, still avoiding my eyes.
“Well, everyone hurry up and eat!” I start shoveling the collard greens and peas in my mouth. I’ll take all the good luck I can get.
****
When we get to the top of the stairs, Ruby covers my eyes and they lead me inside. I hear the gasp from Gracie and Ruby takes her hand off. Then I do a shriek of my own. Ruby has me turned facing the left wing. She opens my bedroom door first. A four-poster bed with sheer white curtains hanging from ribbons around it stands on the left of the large room. The bedding is plush and looks so inviting, I want to crawl in it and stay there. Next to my room is Gracie’s, with a bed just her size. She runs right for it and does get in hers. In the open space outside our rooms, a window seat lines all the windows and pretty white wooden shutters filter in just enough light to make it feel airy.
“You made all this for us?” I ask Davis, my mouth hanging open.
He nods. “Yep.”
“He’s been working on the beds for a long time,” Papa says. “We’ve had this idea brewing for quite a while. What do ya think?”
“It’s so beautiful. Thank you.” Tears roll down my face.
“You haven’t even seen all of it.” Ruby shifts me a little to the right.
It’s even better on that side. Built-in bookshelves are filled with my books and a large plush floral chair sits next to a mini pink chair. One for me and one for Gracie. And a little further to the right, in the corner of the room, a wooden swing hangs from the ceiling. I run and sit in it, giving myself a light push off.
“This is the prettiest attic I’ve ever seen. A swing! Who puts a swing in a house? It’s the best idea ever.”
Davis smiles and points to the books. “You need another place to read all your books, when you’re tired of just sittin’ in that chair. And some days are too hot for you to swing on the one outside…I know you…like it out there…”
I hop off the swing and move in front of him, chewing on the inside of my cheek to keep from bawling. “Thank you, Davis. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for m
e. Well, besides Papa having me move here in the first place.” I lean over and take Papa’s hand and look back up at Davis. “Really—I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”
He looks down. “I didn’t want to make you cry, but I thought you might.” He looks up and gives me a smile that makes my heart jump over itself just a bit.
He really is pretty handsome, now that I give him a good look. And I do give him a good, long look, noticing some of his features for the first time. His brown eyes are kind and warm, with eyelashes that might be longer than mine. His lips are full and always have a smile just hovering on the edge, ready to take off. His blonde hair is thick, and for a brief moment, I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands through it…
Okay, enough. I will not think about that.
I reach over and awkwardly pat his shoulder. I stare at him a little longer and everyone is quiet until Gracie yelps. In the corner across from mine, is her swing. She climbs up on it before we can even blink and tries to swing on it standing up. I rush over to her and set her on her bottom and give her a little push.
“I yove it,” she says and I beam at her. “I vewy yove it!”
“I very love it too!” I grin at Davis over Gracie’s head. “We’ll never want to leave our room now!”
It’s our very own little haven, mine and Gracie’s.
Davis just stands there quietly, looking content and rather proud of himself. I vow to myself to make his favorite cookies at least once a week.
Chapter 27
Feelings
After the grand gesture with my room, Davis is bolder. His shyness hasn’t gone away, necessarily, and he’s still quiet, but now there’s a new confidence there. He looks at me, and all I know is that his eyes are trying to tell me something. He looks at me a lot more now. And I look back.
I’m trying to figure out what has suddenly drawn me to his attention and vice versa. How did I not see how cute he is until now? And his voice—it’s like hot buttered rum on a cold night; every now and then it seeps through the ice that has taken over my heart and melts a tiny spot.