by Rae Walsh
After a long walk, the two women sat. The dogs played in the distance, and Theresa began to make a pile of stones, balancing each precariously on the one under it. She was so intent on what she was doing that she nearly missed Katie's words.
"What, sorry?" she said, looking up.
"Did Sam tell you that I had a long episode of panic attacks last year?"
"You? No, he didn't." She looked back down at the stone in her hand. "You don't seem like someone who would have panic attacks," she said.
"Well, I don't know that you can tell that from the outside," Katie said, "but I didn't always have them. There was a whole series of events that led up to me falling apart…anyway. I only wanted to tell you that because Lucy asked me to try to convince you to come to the women's group."
Theresa looked up, startled. Katie made a funny face. "Sorry," she said.
"Ambushed!" Theresa said. "But no, that's okay. I'm just wondering what one thing has to do with the other?"
"She wanted me to ask you because I found it to be a safe place, even when I was suffering from the most intense anxiety."
"Yeah?" Theresa bit her lip as she placed one more rock on top of her pile. The pile collapsed, so she started over. "I can come if you both want me to. But it's not about whether it's a safe place. It's just so hard to sit in a group of people and feel like you don't understand all the currents of emotion running through the room. It's exhausting for me. I can often sense threads of feeling, but don't know where they come from or why they are happening."
Katie put a stone on Theresa's stone pile. It was a good one, hooking onto a small lump on the top of the rock under it, balancing perfectly, though it wasn't centered.
"That does sound exhausting," Katie said. "Maybe just try coming once, and you can decide whether it's worth it. It's at the Café this week, so it will be familiar, too. And there will be food!" She sang the last part.
"Well," Theresa said. "If there will be food, I'm in."
Lucy accompanied Theresa up the walk to the Café house several days later. Theresa was rigid with anxiety, and missing Sofía so much she thought she would burst of it. Sofía had always helped her with things like this. Lucy looped her arm through Theresa’s.
"Chin up, Reesey," she said in a low voice. "We all know you're strong and can do this."
Theresa widened her eyes. "Strong like glass," she muttered. Lucy laughed and turned to go into Sam and Katie's house. Theresa stopped when she saw Katie at the end of the hallway, barefoot, wearing an apron, and holding a spoon.
"What's for dinner?" Lucy called.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Katie answered. "Go sit down, Lucy dearest, you're off duty tonight. Zoe and Ingrid are helping me in the kitchen. We'll be through in a minute. There's wine on the table, but I'm sure Dorothy and Mercy will show you the way."
"As if I need to be shown," Lucy muttered, bustling in front of Theresa toward the open dining room on their left. "This is practically my restaurant."
Theresa stopped before a painting in a wood and glass frame, looking intently at it. It was a simple square, a mix of a subtle range of colors, moving from cream to ivory, to ecru, to beige. There was a painting next to it that was similar, but in shades of dark red ranging to black. Theresa stared at that one for a while, then her eyes refocused, and she realized she could see her reflection in the glass. Pale and heart-shaped, with large eyes, strong eyebrows, and a bit of an overbite. She thought, looking at the reflection, that maybe she should be a better friend to the woman in the glass in every way, including being nice about her looks. Perhaps she could even paint a self-portrait...one day.
"What happened to Reesey?" she heard Mercy ask, and then Lucy said, "She was right behind me. I hope she didn't run off."
Seconds later, Theresa's mother came bustling out of the large dining room to find her. "She's right here," she said, "looking at a painting." Dorothy looked at Theresa strangely, and then gave her arm a squeeze. "Some things never change," she said. "How are you, Reesey?" Theresa's mother was wearing a long silvery tunic over black leggings, and bright red lipstick. Her spiky gray hair seemed to be freshly shellacked.
Theresa gave her mother a shaky smile. "I'm all right," she said.
"Well, come in and sit down. You'll feel better."
Theresa allowed herself to be shepherded into the room. Lucy, Juanita, and Mercy were already seated in a cozy corner, fashioned from what looked like all the sofas and armchairs of the house. Theresa knew from visiting the café on other occasions that the soft seating was usually scattered more evenly around the rooms. This looked inviting, though. Couches were pulled up in front of a fireplace where a fire was crackling. A low table sat inside the half-circle of chairs and sofas.
Something like a long exhale moved through Theresa's body. She followed her mom over to the sofa and sat in the corner, tucking her legs under her, and taking the glass of wine Juanita handed to her. She looked around at the women, who were all looking back at her.
"Well," Theresa said. "This room is very yellow." Dorothy shook her head, and Juanita chuckled. Mercy beamed at Theresa. "That's it," she said. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Where's Faith?" Theresa asked.
"Couldn't make it tonight," Juanita answered because Mercy's mouth was full of the bite of food she had just taken. Theresa looked down to see plates of bread, apples, and brie, drizzled with honey, on the table in front of them.
"Oh, wow, what?" Theresa exclaimed, leaning forward to get some food. She placed a slice of brie on top of a piece of apple, and put the whole thing in her mouth.
Not long after that, Ingrid, Zoe, and Katie entered the room carrying saffron rice and paneer butter masala, with a beetroot and feta salad. Theresa's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she sat contentedly listening to the women chat, while the wine warmed her face, and the food filled her belly.
"This is absolutely delicious," Ingrid said.
"You helped make it," Katie said.
Zoe scoffed. "We chopped and did exactly what you told us to, that's not making food!"
Theresa smiled, and Katie noticed. "Come on, Reesey," Katie said. "Help me out here."
It was the first time her sister-in-law had called her Reesey, and it warmed Theresa even more.
"Sorry," she said. "I agree with Zoe."
"Thank you!" Zoe said. She turned to Theresa. "I'm trying to help Katie learn to take a compliment without deflecting it.
Dorothy and Mercy both raised their eyebrows.
"Theresa's not going to be able to help you with that," Mercy said.
"No, ma'am," Dorothy said.
Theresa narrowed her eyes at them.
"So, how do you know everyone here?" Ingrid asked.
"Oh—" Theresa's throat started to close. She felt like she couldn't get words out. She hated being put on the spot.
Katie jumped to her rescue. "Theresa is Sam's sister," she said. "Did you not know that?"
Ingrid shook her head. "Nope! I may have tuned it out when we talked about it previously."
"So she's my daughter," Dorothy added.
"Which means she's like family to us," Mercy said. "Ever since we moved to Aveline, Dorothy and I have been close, haven't we, Dorothy?"
"Yes, we have."
"And I know Theresa for the same reason," Juanita said with a shrug. "Lucy too. She grew up here. She's family."
“Speaking of family,” Dorothy said. “Have you called Sofía since you’ve been here?”
Theresa stiffened. It was just like her mother to spring something like that in public.
“Who is Sofía?” Zoe asked.
“Reesey’s old best friend from high school,” Dorothy said. “She asked about you often, Reesey.”
“I don’t have her contact information anymore,” Theresa said. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ll go to her mom’s restaurant in Billers. Do they still own that place?”
“They sure do,” Lucy said. “Yum. Don’t wait forever, hey, Reesey?
A good friend is hard to come by.”
As the evening went on, there was a lot more that happened. Talk about life and work. Prayer. Requests for help. But that was the moment that meant the most to Theresa. Those were the words that made Theresa realize she would come back. "She's family."
Chapter Eighteen
Theresa and Maddie seemed to be adjusting well to living together again, Theresa thought, as she stood in the kitchen, in her pajamas, with a cup of coffee in her hands. Maddie was making a pot of tea, buzzing excitedly over her teapot, which, as she informed her mom, she had missed excruciatingly.
“Even Katie doesn’t have a proper teapot,” she said.
Maddie was also in her pajamas, an old pair of flannels that reminded Theresa of both good and bad times. Everything was entwined it that way, it seemed. All the good and bad woven together.
Maddie’s pajamas were a deep maroon color, highlighting the new color in her cheeks. Theresa had bought the pajamas for Christmas one year, but after Maddie had put her new pajamas on, she’d exploded because of how lonely their Christmases always were, accusing her mother of ruining her life. Theresa had run out into the snow when she felt like she couldn’t breathe, clutching handfuls of it to calm herself down. They had both spent time crying in their rooms, then come back to listen to jazz Christmas carols and finish their 1500 piece puzzle. They had worked late into the night. Neither of them had changed out of their new pajamas, and that Christmas had ended very late that night with a completed puzzle, candlelight, love, and laughter. So...a success? Theresa was learning that life was usually more nuanced than success or failure labels could describe.
Make new memories, came her therapist’s voice.
Maddie’s hair stuck up in every direction, and Theresa reached out and smoothed it, leaning over the island with her coffee in her hands, content to watch Maddie gracefully pour water into a teapot.
Light flooded the kitchen, Sam was going to start on her workshop today, an order of clay was due to arrive, and Theresa couldn’t help feeling hopeful. Even as she experienced the goodness of the day, though, Theresa worried about when it would end.
“By the way, can you cut my hair, Mom?” Maddie asked.
“Sure. How do you want it?”
“Short and messy.”
Theresa put her coffee down and lifted Maddie’s hair off her neck, looking at the lines of her face, her graceful jaw. Maddie would look lovely with short hair.
“I can do it this afternoon. That’ll look cute, Little.”
The doorbell rang. Theresa went to get the door, expecting Sam. The last few days had been strenuous. Though Theresa had loved the women’s circle, just going had taken a lot out of her. Today she had slept until seven o’clock, which was unlike her. At seven in the morning, Theresa was usually awake and had been sitting at her wheel for hours. She could hardly wait until her electric pottery wheel was set up, and her clay order arrived. She hadn’t gone this long without making ceramics since she started working with clay.
When she threw the door open, Theresa found Sheldon instead of Sam. He stood on her front porch in a three-piece, vintage baby blue suit, and matching fedora. Theresa blinked at him. He looked gorgeous—breathtaking —with his cheekbones and startling blue eyes. His eyes had lines fanning out from around them now, she noticed, and it only made him look better. But why was he here? And dressed like that?
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Behind her, Theresa heard Maddie sigh. They were going to need to have a talk. Theresa didn’t want her daughter to feel responsible for Theresa’s lack of social skills.
During the last few months, something had shifted in Theresa, and she had realized that it was simply too hard to try to twist herself into something more palatable for the world. It was exhausting, and Theresa was done with trying. People could deal with her on her own terms. She needed to reserve her energy for creativity, not fitting in.
“I said I was coming to help you in the garden,” Sheldon said. His voice was warm and deep, and without meaning to, Theresa put a hand to her throat.
“In that suit?” she asked.
He smiled at her, making her knees feel wobbly. “All for a good cause.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. She knew what he was doing. The wretch. He knew her weakness for a well-styled man.
“No, Sheldon,” she said. “Not in that suit, you’re not. Go home and change.”
She tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot inside and blocked her.
“What will you give me if I go change?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she told him.
“What if I get to wear the suit at some time of my choosing, and you wear one of your vintage dresses? Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“What are you talking about?” Theresa asked, standing back and crossing her arms over her chest. She tried not to look at his black hair curling under the fedora. “I don’t owe you anything, so you have no room to bargain.”
“Okay, you don’t owe me anything. Will you go out with me while I wear the blue suit?” he asked.
She stared at him for a long minute. “Fine. Will you go home and put on something appropriate for gardening? You’re going to get really dirty.”
He twinkled back at her.
“Go home, Sheldon.” She shut the door, and this time he let her.
She turned around to find Maddie staring at her. She shook her head in warning. “Not a word, Little.”
Maddie held her hands up. “I didn’t say a thing.”
“You were thinking it. Okay, it’s time, kid. Let’s get ready for the day.”
“It’s Saturday,” Maddie muttered.
“How right you are. And since you and I are still getting settled, we have work to do. Come on—I’ll reward you with popcorn tonight.”
Maddie muttered something inaudible, but she dragged herself to her bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Theresa went to her own bedroom and closed her door. She sighed, shaking her head, but then she looked around at her room and felt measurably more cheerful. She loved her simple bedroom.
A comfy mattress on the floor with lots of pillows and a dark teal quilt. A cranberry-colored rug. Three mirrors, more for reflecting light than for seeing herself. Theresa generally avoided mirrors unless she had to check her teeth. She put on a pair of old jeans and a threadbare T-shirt, braiding her hair and covering it with a red headscarf.
Theresa was an intense gardener and always ended up with dirt in her scalp if she didn’t cover her hair. She groaned, thinking of Sheldon showing up in that suit, but as she left the room, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
Chapter Nineteen
When she went back to the kitchen, she found Sam wandering around, opening and closing cupboards.
“Ever heard of knocking?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “Your place is so nice, Reesey,” he said. “You’re all grown up.”
“Thanks, I think?” she said. After a moment, she leaned in and gave her brother a hug. Sam looked surprised but hugged her back. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m just confused by you,” he said. “You seem very…different. Plus, why did I see Sheldon jogging down the street away from the house in his special suit?”
She rolled her eyes. “He wore that to help with gardening,” she said. “Can you believe him?”
Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s very Sheldon,” he said. “Well, you can’t blame him for trying.” A shadow crossed his face as he opened her canned goods cupboard. “I can fix the hinge on this cupboard,” he said, opening it and closing it several times before he turned to her again. “Are you going to break Sheldon’s heart again?”
Theresa stiffened. Sam had never been a mean person, but over the last couple of days, she couldn’t help thinking that he wasn’t exactly tactful.
“I told him I only want to be friends,” she said,
crossing her own arms. “And then he told me he didn’t want to be friends, but now he’s the one turning up the charm. It’s not my fault.”
Sam leaned onto the countertop, letting his head drop forward. “You’re right, Reesey. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, and it’s between the two of you. But you didn’t see how he was after you left. Or during year three. Or year seven. He’s never gotten over it.”
Theresa stared at her brother. She had been heartbroken when she left Aveline, but she had figured that Sheldon would be sad for a while, then realized he was better off with her gone. What gorgeous young man needed a single mother who couldn’t pull her life together? Sam’s words told a different story, and Theresa felt an unwelcome twinge of guilt at the thought of Sheldon hurting all these years. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her mess.
Sam straightened, rearranging his face so that the frown lines were gone. “Right. We got a lot done yesterday, measuring and blocking things out. Let’s go back out there and make plans. I brought some paper for sketching —you can tell me what you need, and I’ll draw it out. I have a few wood samples. If we get to it, I have tools in the truck as well, and I can make a start.”
Theresa rubbed her arms, feeling cold, but went gladly into the less fraught business of creating her studio. The planning was more natural than she had thought it would be. Sam was an intuitive carpenter with a gift for design, and he was also her brother, so he caught Theresa’s ideas right away. She envisioned an open workshop in the back that opened up to a display in front, a journey from raw to finished, with customers able to see the different stages of work. Yesterday they had measured the dimensions of the shelves she needed and decided where the kiln could go. Sam would build a drying and firing room at the back of the shop, as well as concrete shelves and benches for manufacturing and drying her work.