He moved as fast as he could to answer the door. At least he could keep her from trying to balance her load and knock at the same time.
“Hi!” he said, opening the door.
“Hi! How’s it going?” Kassia’s smile was bright.
Better now that you’re here.
“I’m so-so,” he replied. “I think I’m improving each day, but I sure wish I could get this cast off.”
“You have some time ahead of you,” she remarked.
“Yes, I sure do. But visitors make the time go faster.” He smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I tried to call before I left the apartment,” she said, “but your line was busy.”
“Oh yeah. I was checking my e-mail on my laptop.”
“Any news?”
He hesitated. He still hadn’t mentioned his job loss. How pathetic could he get, looking for responses to his resume on a Saturday morning?
“No news, unless I want to invest in transferring twenty-eight million dollars from a Nigerian bank or lose ten pounds by Valentine’s Day.”
She chuckled. “Sounds like we’re on the same mailing lists.”
Kassia’s breath made contact with the cold, and steam emitted from her mouth in spurts as she spoke. Suddenly Teague realized he’d forgotten his manners.
“Come in.” He pulled to one side so she could enter.
She stepped over the threshold, and when she passed, he could smell the familiar gardenia scent he had grown to love. The floral fragrance mingled with appetizing aromas of food. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that several hours had passed since he’d eaten a bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast.
“Sorry I can’t help you with that,” he said, pointing to the box. “I’m lucky to be answering the door as it is.”
“That’s quite all right. I remember how you helped me with my bags while we were on the ski trip.” She grinned. “Your credentials as a gentleman remain intact.”
He managed a short bow as he leaned on his crutches. “Thank you, milady.”
“Do you mind if I take this in to the table?” She nodded toward the dining room, which could be seen from the front door.
“No, that’s fine.”
He followed her, glancing at the couch where he had spent most of his time lately. He had invested in brown leather, a decision he’d never regretted. The couch was hardly at its best, scattered as it was with two multicolored afghans his grandmother had crocheted years ago, along with a cheap blue woven acrylic blanket he had picked up at a recent sale. Newspapers and magazines were piled not so neatly on the oak end table in front of a white-shaded lamp with a wooden base that matched the table reasonably well. Suddenly he realized every flat surface except the hardwood floor was covered with reading material. Even the coffee table, positioned on the far side of the room so he wouldn’t have to go around it when he tried to move about, was burdened with a hodgepodge of papers; a box of tissues; and—he noticed to his horror—his cereal bowl, coffee cup, and juice glass from breakfast. He stifled a groan. At least his mother had dusted and cleaned before she left. If not for her, his embarrassment would have been complete.
They walked through the small dining room with its pine table and chairs. He was glad he’d filled the rooms with furniture, however modest.
He looked at the old flower-patterned wallpaper in the room as though seeing it for the first time. “Um, this isn’t my house. The landlord wouldn’t be happy with me if I made too many changes,” he offered as an apology.
“Changes?” She followed his gaze. “Oh, you mean the wallpaper?” She shrugged. “Looks good to me. At least it’s not beige, like the walls in my apartment. I’ve thought of going wild and painting every wall in the place red, but then I’d have to repaint when I left. I’m too lazy to do that.” She winked.
“I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to try to cover red with beige paint.” He grimaced. “But you wouldn’t really use red paint, would you?”
“Not in every room.” She giggled.
He shook his head. He could imagine Kassia, who seemed to wear at least one red item of clothing with every outfit, painting every room in her house a bold shade of crimson.
She reached inside the box and took out a covered brown glass dish. When she lifted its top, the smell of gravy and onions permeated the dining room. “I hope you like beef.”
He inhaled a fresh whiff of the gravy. “Love it.”
“Good.” She took out a white ceramic square dish decorated with red and yellow flowers. “And mashed potatoes.” A quick lift of the top revealed a smooth mountain of creamy white spuds.
“Sure do.” He licked his lips.
“And salad.”
He wasn’t quite as sure about green vegetables. “Mmm.”
She set a large blue ceramic bowl covered with transparent wrap on the table. “I put in lots of goodies. Carrots, alfalfa sprouts, tomatoes, and mushrooms.”
Even more vegetables. Well, except for the mushrooms. “Mmm.”
“And I brought salad dressing in case you didn’t have any.” She held up a bottle of white dressing. “Blue cheese.”
Ah. A white stream of hope in the midst of all that green. “My favorite.”
“I know. I saw you slathering it on your salad at the lodge.”
“So you’re observant.”
“I try.” Her grin was teasing and captivating at once. “I made sure to get low-fat dressing, though.”
Too bad.
“Low-fat. Mmm.”
“I had to do something to counteract the effects of all that blue cheese since I made dessert.” She reached into the box again and withdrew a pie covered in bright red cherries. “Cherry cream cheese.”
“Now that sounds—and looks—good.” He set his crutches against the wall then took his customary chair at the head of the table. “But I hope you know you didn’t have to do this. My church has been bringing food over here every day. In fact, Emily’s mom is supposed to stop by with food tonight.”
The light in her eyes vanished, and she hesitated. “Oh. I–I didn’t think of that. You must have more food in the house than you can ever eat.”
“No, not at all,” he said quickly, though he knew his refrigerator was far from empty. “For one thing, no one ever brings lunch. Only dinner. And no one is half as beautiful or charming as you.”
He blurted the compliment as a reflexive response since he knew he had hurt her feelings. Yet as he studied her face he realized he had brought the truth to light with his words.
“Oh, I don’t believe it,” she said, her eyes bright again and her face flushed.
“You know who the most beautiful person in my church is?” He didn’t wait for her to speculate on who it could be. “It’s Miss Patricia.”
“Miss Patricia? Who is that?”
“She’s a dear eighty-five-year-old woman. Her married name is Henderson, but she tells us to call her Miss Patricia because Mrs. Henderson was her mother-in-law.”
Kassia’s laugh added music to the room. “She sounds like a pistol.”
“She sure is. Her specialty is baking cakes. She takes a big cake to anyone in church who is sick or grieving or in some sort of need.”
“Now, I have to say, she does sound like a lovely woman,” Kassia agreed.
“You know what’s unbelievable? She embellishes each cake with a Bible verse, and it looks like a professional decorated it.”
“And she’s eighty-five?”
“Eighty-five.”
“And she writes a whole verse on a cake? Wow.”
“Granted, it’s always a short verse,” he pointed out, “but a verse all the same.”
“ ‘Jesus wept’?” Kassia smiled.
“I haven’t seen one with that verse so far.” Just then he snapped his fingers several times rapidly. “Quick. Quick. Tell me why He wept.”
She thought for a moment. “Because His friend Lazarus died.”
Teague whistled. “Whoa. That�
�s right.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You didn’t think I’d know that, did you? I still remember a few things from all the Sunday school classes I attended over the years.”
“You remind me of Lazarus,” Teague said. “Not that you’ve died, of course”—he grinned—“but because you’re such a good friend. Won’t you eat this wonderful food with me?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I—uh—”
“Unless you have other plans.”
“Well, no.”
“You drove all the way from Richmond. You deserve to eat,” he pointed out. “Besides, if you don’t stay, I’ll have to eat alone. You wouldn’t wish that on me, would you?” He widened his eyes and pouted.
“Oh, please. That puppy dog act may work on your other girlfriends, but not on me.” She shook her head.
“What other girlfriends? Now you’re making me even more sad.” He sniffled. “Especially since this is enough food for ten people.”
“Well, I admit, I wasn’t sure if you’d be having family visiting since it’s Saturday. I thought maybe Tabitha would be dropping by.”
“Not on a Saturday. That’s her busiest day at the boutique.”
Kassia tapped herself on the forehead. “Of course. What was I thinking?” She inspected the table laden with food. “Oh, all right. I’ll take pity on you and stay.” She flashed him a big smile then slipped off her coat. “Where can I hang this up?”
“There’s a coat closet right by the front door. I should help you—”
She waved her hand. “Oh, no. I can find it. You sit down and get ready for some comfort food.”
“If you insist.” He grinned. The fact of the matter was, he thoroughly enjoyed being waited on. The meals from church were a tremendous help, but he had to set the table and clean up. Without someone to share the work, doing the chores was a lonely prospect.
The dinner was one of the best he’d eaten since he’d broken his ankle, both in the quality of the food and the company. The more time he spent with Kassia, the less resolve he felt to let her slip out of his life. But she’d been hurt enough. Why should he add to her pain?
But he felt he had to broach the subject, if only in a roundabout way. After dessert he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “That was great. I won’t have any room for dinner after such a big lunch, but who cares?”
“That’s what your refrigerator is for,” she said, chuckling.
He placed his elbows on the table and looked her in the eyes. “I may tease you about bringing over all this food, but you know what? You aren’t obligated to do anything for me. There was nothing you could have done to prevent my accident.”
She shuddered. “I’ll never forget what I saw.”
He resisted the urge to place his hand on hers. “I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t had to see it.”
“No, I’m glad I did. At least I was there to draw attention to the fact that you were hurt.”
“True. I can’t help but wonder, though, if I’d have lain there all day had it not been for you.”
“You think people would have skied by and not stopped? Anyway, the ski patrol guys were right there, almost as soon as you fell.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure glad they were. But most people would have been concentrating on getting down the slope and not looking at the forest.”
“True.”
“But my point is that I hope you don’t feel responsible for me. I’ve had my share of attention.” He grinned. “As you can tell, even my family members have gone back to their lives.”
“I know, but I want to be here. Unless I’m a bother.”
“Are you kidding? I appreciate it. Bringing me food, making sure I’m still alive, giving me someone to talk to. I’m the one who doesn’t want to be a bother to you.”
“It’s no bother. I only live a few miles away, remember?” She grinned. “And speaking of miles, I was wondering when you were going to ask me for a ride to work. It’s been a week since you left the hospital. Your boss may be wonderful, but I doubt he’ll let you lie around here indefinitely without doing any work.”
Teague hesitated. Since he had revealed the news to his mother, telling it again seemed a little easier. “I guess I’d better tell you. I was hoping I’d find something else before you had to find out.”
“Find out what?”
“I was laid off.” There. He said it.
“You’re kidding! But I thought your boss liked you.”
“He does. But we lost the contract I was working on, and his operation is too lean for him to keep me on.”
Her gaze softened, and her voice held an anxious tone. “When did this happen?”
“Just before we went on the ski trip. I didn’t want to say anything then. Besides, we barely knew each other.”
“What a difference a couple of weeks make, huh?”
Teague smiled. The only good thing about the accident was that it had shown him a part of Kassia’s character he otherwise might not have seen—her sisterly love and compassion.
“That’s awful about your job, and especially now. I’m so sorry. I know you really liked working for them. Have you told your family?”
He nodded. “I told Mom. She understands. My family knows I’m a hard worker and being laid off isn’t my fault.”
“Lucky you. If I had been in your shoes, my parents would have lectured me and convinced me I’d done something terribly wrong.”
Teague leaned over and tapped his cast. “I do have the sympathy factor.”
“That wouldn’t have stopped my mom from lecturing me.” She shook her head. “You really are lucky. Your family acts a lot more Christian than mine, even though my parents are the first ones at church every time the doors open.”
“My family does set a good example, but try not to be so hard on yours,” Teague said. “I’m sure they’re doing the best they can.”
She stared across the room. Teague saw her gaze settle on a cheap print of an original oil painting of fruit. For the first time, he wished he hadn’t economized on wall decorations. But then he realized she was looking through the picture as if it didn’t exist.
“I’m sure they are, in their own way.” Her words seemed directed not to him but to someone he couldn’t see. Suddenly she turned to him. “I don’t want to talk about them. I’m more interested now in what I can do to help you find a new job.”
“Not much. I’ve got resumes out.”
“Good.” She smiled. “I know it’s nerve-racking, but you’re not the only one. People lose their jobs all the time nowadays. Once upon a time, you could leave the only place you ever worked at with a gold watch after fifty years. But no more.” She paused and smiled again. “But at least that allows everyone to keep fresh and interested in our work.”
“That’s you, Kassia. Always looking on the bright side, even when there isn’t one.”
“Sure there is. You’re talented and in a good profession. You’ll find something soon. And I’ll do everything I can to help you.”
❧
Kassia kept true to her word. She seemed more determined than ever to do what she could. She hovered over Teague, helping him every step of the way. Each day she stopped by his house before work, prepared breakfast, and made sure he had food ready to heat for lunch. Even though the church had been great about providing Teague with food, he still needed some extra items such as soda and juice, and she kept his refrigerator stocked without even asking him. She came over most evenings and helped him set up whatever meal had been provided, tidied up, and did his laundry.
Sometimes she brought a DVD for them to watch. Not so long ago, he would have been leery about trusting her to select a movie without questionable elements. But he soon discovered they enjoyed the same types of films. To keep their movie nights interesting, Kassia chose Westerns on Tuesdays and mysteries on Saturdays.
Teague’s youth group met on Sunday afternoons, and now that he was laid up, the meetings had moved to his house.
“Why don’t you join us tomorrow afternoon?” he asked Kassia. It was two Saturdays later, after a delicious lunch she had brought—hot potato soup and a croissant sandwich stacked high with thinly sliced beef. He felt fortified enough to ask her to be more involved in his life.
She wagged her finger at him. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not going to recruit me to be your coleader. You can handle them much better than I ever could. Not to mention, my Bible knowledge hardly compares with yours.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t trying to recruit you. But since you mentioned it, wouldn’t you like to be our mascot?”
“No, wearing silly outfits isn’t my idea of fun.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“Hey, you didn’t say anything about being busy tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night, huh?” She touched her finger to her chin and tapped it several times. “Um, I think I can clear my schedule. What do you have in mind?”
“How about a comedy? Or maybe we can take a look at a movie by a director we haven’t seen.”
“That’s a thought. I have to say, I haven’t brushed up on this much movie knowledge since film class in college.” She grinned. “That was one of my favorite courses.”
Teague felt a surge of happiness. Since Kassia’s visits had become regular, he wondered what she did on the nights she wasn’t with him. He didn’t dare ask, though. No need to make her think he was possessive.
“I’ll bone up on directors and pick one or two movies to try out,” he said.
“Make sure you pick someone from the Golden Age of Hollywood,” she told him.
“Will do.” Watching her put on the leopard-print coat that had become so familiar, he waved to her from his chair and wished he could help her with it.
Teague was more than happy with his assignment, and he wasn’t surprised by her suggestion to stick to vintage films. Never could he have shown an old movie to his youth group; they favored modern fare. He didn’t want to suggest recreation that would discourage anyone from attending. But being around Kassia made him realize he had missed spending time with someone his age. She was the first person he’d found who shared his interests, especially his eclectic tastes in entertainment, and he felt blessed.
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