“Alice met with me last week and picked out her countertops and kitchen fixtures. Either myself or Charlie… ” he nodded toward the front door, where Charlie and Quitz were just coming into the house. “One of us will go to the mainland to pick up the supplies.”
“It’s surprising that you allow residents to choose such things,” Joshua said.
“We realize that’s a bit unusual, but we want the owners to feel that this is their home, and that they have a say in the design and building. As long as we stay within our budget, it’s not a problem.”
“Do the owners work on the homes?” Alton asked.
“Usually they do not, for a variety of reasons. Medical conditions, family obligations, depression.” He ticked the causes off on his fingers, and Becca began to fully realize the needs of the people they were ministering to. “Grief is a major obstacle for many of our families. Some have no construction knowledge at all but want to participate. They will come by in the evenings and clean up the job site, put away tools, sweep, and even bring food they’ve made.”
There were no additional questions, so Jim suggested they move to the house next door.
When Becca walked inside, she realized that by comparison Alice’s house was nearly done. This house didn’t even have walls. There was no roof yet, so it felt as if she were still outside. She could look up and see the bright blue sky.
Jim walked them through the framed rooms, pointing out how it differed from Alice’s house.
“We have several community partners, including the Red Cross, Salvation Army, and local churches.”
“What type of churches?” Nancy asked.
She’d been fairly quiet since the tour began. Becca remembered that she had worked on several MDS projects, so she’d probably seen similar job sites and was familiar with how MDS worked. Did the community partners differ depending on the location?
“Here in Texas, there are quite a few religious affiliations that have chosen to partner with us—Catholics, Episcopals, Baptists, Methodists—pretty much everyone who had a presence in the community. They provide funds that make our projects possible. We also work with FEMA to help residents receive government aid, which can be a daunting process.”
They exited out the back door and walked to the final site, which consisted of a concrete slab. “As I mentioned, this home will require additional modifications because the owner is in a wheelchair. We’ll need wider doors, a ramp in the front and back, and we’ll have to meet ADA building code.”
Alton glanced at Joshua, who shrugged.
“ADA is the American Disabilities Act. Their standards establish design requirements for handicapped persons.”
“Sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Joshua said.
“It is, and that’s one of my jobs.” Jim smiled. “I’d rather be swinging a hammer, but someone has to tackle the truly terrible tasks.”
They were all now standing back out on the sidewalk.
“Once I hand out your assignments, I usually leave the site to check on the other groups, stop by the office to handle paperwork, head over to the mainland for supplies, that sort of thing. If you have any questions, ask Frank or Brady. They’ve both worked with me on several sites.”
The two walked by, carrying lumber from a delivery van that had appeared while they were touring through the houses.
“Ya, we’re old hands at this,” Frank said.
Brady squinted at his friend in offense. “Careful who you’re calling old.”
“They also have a phone and my number in case you need to reach me for any reason.” Jim glanced down at his clipboard. “All right. Let’s go over your assignments for the day.”
CHAPTER 29
Becca had thought she’d be shopping for groceries with Nancy or perhaps fixing meals, but it seemed that Eva was in charge of that. She and Nancy hurried off to her car, heads together as they worked on a shopping list.
Sarah, Becca, and Simon were assigned to the first house, the one that looked nearly finished.
Within moments Joshua was deep in conversation with the other two men—Frank and Brady, and they were walking toward the second house, which had only a frame.
Jim and Alton were headed toward the last house. She couldn’t imagine what they would do to it, since there was only a concrete slab. She didn’t have much time to worry over Alton’s assignment, though, as Charlie was already talking about what they hoped to accomplish in the next few hours.
“All the drywall is hung,” he said. “Our goal is to do nearly all the painting today and then we can start laying the floor next week.”
He led them into the house, Quitz walking patiently at his side.
“Did Alice pick out the color of paint?” Sarah asked.
“She did, though MDS buys three main colors in bulk quantity—white-white, off-white, and eggshell white.”
Everyone laughed.
“The choices may be limited, but when a person has a say in what color goes up on his or her walls, it helps to restore their dignity—even if it is only the choice between three types of white.”
“Alice and Charlie aren’t related, but you’d think they were the way the children look up to him.” This from Simon, who had already been on the job a week.
“I care about them,” Charlie admitted. “And I hope we can have them in their home soon. Commuting from the mainland every day takes its toll. It adds more time to Alice’s workday and gives the children less time to do homework, play, and rest.”
As an afterthought he added, “They currently live in a tiny apartment on the mainland. They were lucky to get it, but the children are anxious to move back into their own house.”
“We’ll work hard, Charlie.” Becca found herself looking forward to the task as she accepted a brush, stirrer stick, and can of paint.
The morning sped by. Becca’s job was to paint the boy’s room. All of the rooms were the same color—Alice had chosen the eggshell white. As Becca painted, she imagined C.J.’s room with baseball posters on the walls and dirty socks on the floor. Charlie had told her that C.J. was the worrier of the family, and that he wanted to make sure everything was okay for his grandmother and sister. It was with that image in her mind that she painted his walls.
She was surprised when Eva called them to lunch. “Next week you’ll each pack your own lunch except for Wednesday, when lunch is provided by one of our residents. As for today, you couldn’t very well put together a lunch without groceries. Nancy and I have stocked your kitchens and made sandwiches for everyone.”
A rousing chorus rang through the group—“Thank you” and “We appreciate it” and “Looks wunderbaar good.”
Becca immediately began devouring her sandwich. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so hungry. Focusing on the food and how good it felt to rest, she didn’t notice Simon making his way toward her until he was standing in front of her.
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Of course not. You’re as welcome to the curb as I am.”
Simon’s eyes crinkled in a smile as he plopped down to the right of her. She’d noticed he did that a lot—smiled, that is. He seemed like an affable fellow.
“How did your painting go, Becca?” Joshua sat on her left, took a huge bite of his sandwich, and waited for her answer.
“Maybe I wasn’t painting. Maybe I was sawing boards.”
She reached over and brushed sawdust off his shoulder.
“Maybe so.” He drank half of his bottle of water. “But you’re wearing paint on your nose, so I suspect you were working with a paint brush, not a saw.”
Simon laughed, and Becca rubbed at her nose with her napkin.
“It’s on your face too,” Joshua said, shrugging. “No use worrying about it.”
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her sandwich. Joshua and Simon talked about what they did back home. Joshua described the farm. He described the terrain, how many acres they had, and how the land differed from what he’d
seen of Texas.
Becca had never noticed how his expression relaxed and his eyes lit up when he talked about home. She hadn’t been around him that much before, only seeing him in large groups—church services and community gatherings where she mostly stayed with the women. When he described their crops and horses, a richness came into his voice, and it seemed as if he were describing a person rather than a place.
Simon explained that he and his brother owned a business in their hometown of Seminole. “We build houses. I do most of the interior work, and my brother hires a crew to help with the actual framing, though I can do that in a pinch.”
“So you’re an expert painter?” Becca teased.
“I suppose I am. I can certainly clean a paint brush better than most.” He grinned at Becca. When she’d left her paint brush on top of the opened can of paint, he’d explained to her the importance of closing the can and properly cleaning her brush—even for a lunch break. Simon stood and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m off to check out the cookie selection. Can I bring you anything?”
Becca shook her head, though she thought that probably it would have been all right to eat a few. Surely she’d burned a lot of calories with all that painting. Joshua said he’d grab some in a minute.
When Simon had walked away, Joshua leaned closer and said, “Careful, Becca. I believe Simon has his eye on you.”
“What?” Her voice squeaked as she looked left and then right.
“Just saying. A pretty girl like you would naturally interest a man like Simon.”
Did Joshua just call her pretty? She shook her head to clear it, and then she forced her voice down to a normal volume. “And what kind of girl would interest a man like you?”
The question popped out of Becca’s mouth like grease from a pan, and she nearly groaned in embarrassment. Why had she asked such a thing? She couldn’t tell if he noticed her embarrassment. He was staring over at the trailers they had slept in and scratching his jaw.
“Me? Can’t say I’ve thought about it a lot. I suppose I want a girl who can make a good sandwich, keep a clean house, care for my children, and maybe sew my clothes.”
“Is that all?”
“There might be more things. I could draw up a list if you like.”
“A list?”
“In case you were thinking of applying for the job.”
This kind of talk wasn’t like Joshua at all. What happened to the quiet young man from their community? What happened to the shy guy on the bus? Maybe it was the ocean air, but he was certainly acting peculiar.
Before she had time to ask him about the abrupt change in his personality, he stood, winked at her, and held out his hand. “Care to accompany me to the cookie table?”
Becca decided that was a pretty good idea, so she allowed him to pull her up from the curb and together they walked over to where the food had been laid out on a makeshift table.
But later that afternoon, as she was painting Shelley’s room, what kept going through her mind was the way Joshua had winked, smiled at her, and held out his hand.
CHAPTER 30
Becca helped Sarah to braid her hair after she had taken a shower. Of course both girls could take care of her own hair, but it was so much nicer to help each other. It reminded Becca of home when her mother would sit on the bed next to her, braid her hair, and speak of the day’s events. As Becca ran the brush through Sarah’s hair and separated it into plaits for braiding, she felt closer to her—as if they knew each other much better than they actually did.
“Did you enjoy your work today?” she asked.
“Ya. I never imagined that I’d be hanging drywall.”
“You should have seen the look on your face when Frank appeared and asked for your help next door.”
“I’ve watched many house raisings. Both painting and hanging drywall always seemed like a man’s job.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder. “I liked it, though. I liked the way it felt to hammer the nails into the panels, and using the screw gun was fun. It was good to be doing something that required all of my attention and energy, you know?”
“I do, but my arms are sore already. You wouldn’t think painting could use so many muscles.”
“This is nice,” Sarah said. “At home, there’s always work, but it’s the same work every day. Some tasks change with the seasons, but they are still the same chores we did the year before.”
“I’ve certainly never painted two rooms in one day. I don’t think I’ve ever painted anything, actually.”
Sarah sighed. “It was wunderbaar to do something different.”
Becca murmured in agreement, and then she held the mirror up so that Sarah could see her hair.
“Looks gut. Danki. Now hand me the brush, and I’ll do yours.”
Neither had washed their hair. They would do that the next day when there would be time to let it hang loose to dry. Becca thought it had felt wonderful to stand in the shower and wash the dirt and paint and sweat of the day from her body.
“I worried I might be too tired to go tonight, but now I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I.” Sarah ran the brush gently from the top to the bottom of Becca’s waist-long hair. “I like how wavy your hair is.”
Becca laughed. “You wouldn’t if you had to corral it every day. Sometimes it just pops out of my kapp.”
Nancy tapped on the door and reminded them that Jim’s van would be leaving in ten minutes.
“Do you like Simon?” Sarah asked.
“Like him? I suppose. As much as anyone else.”
“Oh, Becca. Surely you can tell that he likes you more than simply as a new friend.”
“I don’t know.” Becca thought of what Joshua had said at lunch. “To be honest, boys still confuse me, even though I’m practically a spinster at the age of twenty.”
Sarah handed her the brush and began to plait her hair. “Mamm reminds me of my age often, as if it will spur me to choose a man and settle down.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“I’m certain I am not.”
“So nothing serious is going on between you and Alton?”
Sarah coiled the braid around the top of Becca’s head, pinned it, and fetched her kapp from the dresser.
“Alton is… different. He says funny, unexpected things. Like this morning. He said that my eyes were prettier than the Texas sky.”
“He’s a flirt.”
“Yes. But it’s nice to be flirted with sometimes. Back home, everyone treats me as if I’m breakable. I suppose because of… ” She hesitated, her eyes meeting Becca’s in the small hand mirror. “Because of my eating problems.”
Having fastened on her kapp, Becca replaced the mirror and brush on the single dresser they shared. The room was barely big enough for it. A nightstand sat between their twin beds, and there was a straight-back chair next to the dresser. The furniture was so sparse that it felt like home, only there weren’t quilts on the beds—instead, they had freshly laundered sheets, a thin blanket, and a light comforter. Becca supposed their covers were much more appropriate for Texas weather, but she missed the nine patch quilt that had adorned her bed since she was a small girl.
There was no window in the room, so they used the electrical lights whenever they weren’t sleeping. It seemed odd to Becca, but she did like the small lamp on the table between their beds. She wouldn’t have to read by flashlight, though the night before she’d fallen asleep without even opening her book.
She turned to Sarah, sat beside her on the bed, and pulled her hands into her lap. “How are you feeling? I don’t ask often because I don’t want to pry, and I assume you are tired of folks asking.”
“No one asks, Becca. It’s as if my eating disorder is a subject that must not be broached. Sometimes I want to wear a blouse that proclaims I’m Skinny but Alive.”
“So it’s still difficult?”
“It’s a struggle to eat normally if that’s what you mean. S
ome days are better than others. Today was a gut day.”
Becca wrapped her arms around Sarah. “I’m glad you’re here. Glad you came with us.”
“I’m glad I learned to hang drywall.”
They both laughed and then hurried out to join Nancy. The six of them settled into the van—the same one that had fetched them from the bus station. Nancy again sat up front next to Jim, Becca and Sarah took the middle seat, and Joshua and Alton were in the back. They talked about their work and the progress they had made on their respective houses. Alton asked the girls if they had brought their swimming suits. They hadn’t. Becca didn’t own a suit, and she doubted that Sarah did either. Apparently, Alton had walked to a nearby store at lunch and purchased swim trunks.
When the van pulled off the main road and headed toward the ocean, they all stopped talking, intent on the scene unfolding in front of them.
At first there were rows of lots with empty slabs of concrete.
Then there were properties where the debris had not yet been cleared. Many of these still had portions of houses that had tumbled under Orion’s fury.
Finally, there was only sand. Jim pulled into a parking lot and parked the van. “I hope you enjoy our picnic on the beach. Watch out for jellyfish, and remember the bus leaves at nine o’clock sharp. If you’re not back here by nine, you’ll either have to walk or find a different ride.”
They helped carry supplies to the beach—a cooler, several lawn chairs, and towels in case anyone decided to swim. The day had been warm but was cooling quickly. Becca wasn’t sure she would want to get wet even if she did have a swimsuit.
They walked past sand dunes that were covered in yellow flowers and then the Gulf of Mexico was in front of them. The waves rolled and crashed. The darker blue of the water extended as far as she could see until it met the lighter blue of the sky. The wind was stronger on this side of the dunes, and the briny scent of saltwater filled the air.
Becca followed the group, her walking slowed as her feet sunk into the sand. She had worn sandals, but she longed to yank them off and walk barefoot. Then she remembered Jim’s admonition about jellyfish. What did they look like? What would happen if she inadvertently stepped on one?
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