“This must be a special day, if you’re having a hot fudge sundae.” Noah ushered her to a booth with his hand on her back.
“It isn’t only a celebration day.” Once they were sitting, she reached across the table and took his hands in hers. “This is the most special day I’ve had since I left home eleven years ago. I feel like my life is finally beginning to fall into the place it was meant to be.”
“Let’s make a pact to always come here when we get to celebrate something,” he said. “Whether it’s getting past our first fight or if we’re happy about me winning my first case.”
“I love that idea.” She squeezed his hands. “No matter what happens, this can be our place.”
“We’ll even claim this booth.” He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed the knuckles.
“Shall we carve our initials in the tabletop?” she asked.
“I left my pocketknife at home,” he answered. “Next time we come here, I’ll bring it.” He nodded.
Yes sir, life with her was going to be a fun trip.
Chapter Twenty
When they were all gathered at the new house, Kayla took one look at the walls and said, “Teresa is a perfectionist, so she can tape off the woodwork, so paint don’t get on it. I will do the trim work that the rollers can’t reach. Since Noah is tall, he can paint the upper half of the rooms, and Sam can work on the lower parts. How’s that sound? When Will gets here, he can relieve Sam and Noah.”
“You’re not my boss, and why do you think I’m a perfectionist?” Teresa asked.
“Hey, I’ve seen you cook. You count the grains of sugar that go into making a batch of peanut butter cookies,” Kayla said with a laugh.
“I do not,” Teresa argued. “And in my defense, you have to be precise if you want a good outcome.”
“Miss Janie and Delia both measured things like that, and I got to admit, whatever they were making was always perfect,” Sam said.
Teresa picked up a roll of blue painter’s tape and sat cross-legged on the floor. “I’ve seen you cook, and you’re as careful as I am when it comes to baking.”
“Exactly like Miss Janie taught me.” Kayla poured paint into a cup and started working right behind her.
“I’ve never done this before,” Noah admitted, “so I’m going to watch Sam for a couple of minutes before I start.”
The smell that filled the room brought memories back to Teresa’s mind that she thought she’d forgotten years ago. She was four years old when Angel decided to paint her bedroom bright red.
“Can I help, Mama?” Teresa had asked.
“You don’t call me that again, or I won’t even let you watch. I told you time and time again to call me Angel.” She had swept back her dark hair with a flick of her wrist and gotten a bit of paint on the ends, but Teresa didn’t say a word about it.
At that age, Teresa couldn’t understand why she would call her mother Angel when her name was Angelina. Angel and Angelina didn’t even sound the same. When she went to first grade and discovered that the two words were spelled alike, she understood a little better. In the second grade, she figured out that other kids did not call their mothers by their nicknames. She was in the third grade when she invited a little girl over to her house to play and found out that all little girls didn’t have mothers who brought men home.
The second time she invited her friend over, the little girl said, “My mama says that your mama is a whore and I can’t go home with you.”
Teresa had gone home that evening and asked her mother if she was a whore. Angel had slapped her across the face, told her to never say that word again, and made her sit on the porch until dark. Whatever that word meant, it had to be worse than the swear words that Angel spewed when she was drunk or angry. Teresa was careful not to say it again, or to invite kids to come to her house.
Not long after that, she realized that leaving kids alone in trailers until the wee hours of the morning wasn’t what other mothers did. Some little girls had mothers who combed their hair and made them breakfast every morning before they went to school. The whole concept had seemed strange to Teresa back then, but when she had come to live with Miss Janie, things had changed. Miss Janie took her to the beauty shop and had her hair thinned and layered to make it more manageable, and Teresa learned what it was like to have a hot breakfast every single morning.
Noah startled her when he touched her on the shoulder. “Earth to Teresa.”
She looked up from the floor where she was sitting. “Sorry about that. I was living in the past for a moment.”
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
She watched him load a roller and expertly cover a section of the yellow wall. “Good job. You’re a fast learner.”
“Sam’s a good teacher, but I don’t think you were woolgathering about paint. The expression on your face was pure sadness. Were you grieving for Miss Janie?” Noah asked.
Teresa finished taping off that section of baseboard and scooted down a few feet. “No, not this time. I was thinking about my mother. I should probably just say Angel. I was not allowed to call her Mama, or Mother, or Angelina, for that matter. She was Angel, and she got really mad if I called her Mama.”
Sam added, “When Angelina was a toddler, her mother went to prison for a drunk-driving accident that killed an elderly man and left her in the care of her grandmother. Her grandmother died not long after Angelina moved out. The poor girl didn’t have much of an upbringing, but that doesn’t excuse the way she treated you.”
“How did you know that?” Teresa asked.
“Miss Janie told me y’all’s stories when she first took you girls into her home,” Sam answered.
“Is her mother still in prison?” Teresa had never heard anything about a grandmother or great-grandmother, other than when Angel told her now and then that she hated churches because Mama Lita made her go every time the doors were open.
“Miss Janie kept tabs on all that and said she was leaving you girls as much information as she could. Did y’all find those boxes she put together for you? I bet you’ll find most of that in there,” he answered.
“We found those boxes, and I’ll look into mine later,” Teresa said. “Life sure does have some twists and turns, don’t it? But me and Kayla will still be here for a long time, and Will is moving here, so maybe we’ll start a trend and the town will come back.”
“Miss Janie used to say, ‘It is what it is.’” Kayla had moved to the other side of the room with her can of paint and small brush. “I never understood what she was talking about until lately. Life is what it is. We either repeat what we know, or we learn from it and go forward in a better direction. Wouldn’t it be something if folks started moving back here, and we even became a little bedroom community for folks working in Sulphur Springs and Paris?”
“It sure would,” Sam replied. “What time did you say Will is going to show up?”
“He is supposed to head here as soon as he gets off work, no later than five, and he is bringing pizza with him,” Kayla answered. “Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty for him to do. We’ve still got bedrooms and the bathroom to paint.” She nodded. “I’m glad we changed our mind and didn’t use the yellow that we thought about.”
“What color would you choose if we repainted Miss Janie’s place?” Noah asked Teresa.
“This isn’t my favorite work in the whole world,” Teresa answered, “so it’ll be a while before I want to do it again after we help Will get his house redone and ready to move into. What about you?”
“The only thing I really like about what we’re doing is the fellowship,” Noah said. “I’m already feeling like I’ll need a good massage tomorrow morning. You up for that?” He raised an eyebrow at Teresa.
“Only if it’s a mutual thing and I get one first,” she told him.
Kayla sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and admired the new walls. In one of the dozen or so places she and Denver had lived, she’d painted the walls a pal
e blue. He had come home about half-lit that night and told her that he’d quit his job. There was no way, he had said, that someone was going to boss him around like his supervisor had been doing, so he had told the guy to take the job and shove it. That meant they had to move from the apartment back into the travel trailer where they had been living between times when they could afford a real apartment. After that happened too many times to count, she’d finally given up on making a home. She had kept whatever place they lived in clean—whether it was a month or a year—and had paid the bills, but none of the apartments and certainly not the old stand-by travel trailer in a ratty park was ever what anyone could call cozy or homey.
She closed her eyes and felt at peace with the universe and with herself, so this must have been the right decision. When she opened them, Teresa was sitting beside her.
“Holy crap! You scared the hell out of me.” She shivered.
“Then I guess you’re an angel now, since there’s no more hell in you,” Teresa teased.
“I don’t want to be an angel if that’s what our mamas were,” Kayla said.
“Me, neither.” Teresa nudged her with a shoulder and then waved a hand to take in the whole kitchen. “White was the right color. Sam did good by suggesting it. I can’t wait to start cooking and for the old folks to come in every day. Noah was asking me about what services we plan to offer, and that got me to thinkin’ about something. Why don’t we put a bulletin board on the living room wall and let folks that clean houses or do home health care know that they can advertise there?”
“I love that idea. We’re going to be happy here,” Kayla said. “Think we could have our grand opening by October first?”
“I don’t see why not. Basically, we need to buy some big pots and some dishes,” Teresa said.
“Not real dishes,” Noah said as he joined them. “If you do that, you’ll have to install a dishwasher to keep things up to code. As it is, you’ll have inspections a couple of times a year, but if you use disposable stuff, it’ll make things a lot simpler.”
“What about our pots and pans and silverware?” Kayla asked.
“You have to be sure everything is sparkling clean and show them you are using throwaway stuff,” Noah said. “I thought we could get away without any paperwork, but there is an upside to what we do have to take care of—since Sam is donating the space, it becomes a tax write-off for him, and all the food y’all buy will be a tax write-off for your company. I’ll have all the permits and papers taken care of in a couple of weeks.”
“Thank you.” Teresa smiled up at him.
“No problem.” Noah sat down on the floor beside Teresa. “It feels good to be giving back to the community. Have y’all decided what you’re going to call this place?”
“I’ve been trying to come up with something. Birthright Senior Citizens sounds so generic. Either of you got any ideas?” Kayla asked.
Sam came around the corner. “I heard that last sentence, and I do have an idea. How about Miss Janie’s Senior Citizens Place?”
Kayla clapped her hands. “Yes! Yes! Yes! That way she’ll be remembered. Folks will say, ‘We’re going down to Miss Janie’s for lunch, or for a game of Monopoly or dominoes.’”
“I wish we had food cooking on the stove right now,” Teresa sighed. “I’m hungry. I hope Will brings lots of pizza. I could eat a whole one all by myself.”
As if on cue, someone knocked on the front door, and then Will’s deep voice floated into the kitchen. “Pizza delivery.”
“We’re back here.” Kayla didn’t even have time to stand up before Will was in the kitchen.
“I wasn’t sure what kind everyone liked, so I got four different ones.” Will set them on the counter. “I’ll be right back with the ice, cups, and a gallon of sweet tea.”
“Need some help?” Noah asked.
“Nope. It’s all in one bag.” He disappeared out the back door and returned in a couple of minutes carrying a tote bag printed with Disney characters on it. “Don’t judge me.” He grinned. “My Sunday school class gave me this for Christmas last year. I think maybe the little girls won the fight on which one to buy. And if I had to guess, the little redhead named Zoe led the pack. Y’all remember Tammy Revas, who graduated with Teresa? That’s her mother.” He set a bag of ice in the sink and took out half a dozen red plastic cups.
Kayla got up with a groan and said, “Let me help with that.”
Noah followed her lead, picked up all the pizzas, and set them on the floor. “With no table, we’ll have a picnic.”
Will and Kayla brought cups filled with ice and tea and joined Sam, Teresa, and Noah on the floor. Kayla opened the boxes and said, “Dinner is served.”
“I forgot!” Will jumped up and pulled a roll of paper towels from the tote bag. “I even brought napkins. This white paint sure does make the place look lighter and brighter. I think I’ll go with white, too, when we start painting my new place. I’m pretty pumped about having a house.” He tore off a couple of napkins for each one of them. “I’ve lived in an apartment since my folks sold their place and went to the assisted living place. I’m pretty excited to think about putting some roots down.”
“I’m gettin’ too old for this.” Sam chuckled. “I’ll let you kids do that job and finish up here as well. Soon as I get done eating, I’m going home to stretch out in my recliner and moan about my sore muscles, but when y’all paint Will’s place, I’ll smoke a brisket and y’all can come over to my place to eat, but I’m not painting any more houses.” He finished off his pizza and got to his feet with a loud groan.
“I’d paint the White House for good brisket,” Noah said with a laugh. “But I thought you didn’t like to cook.”
“I don’t, but smoking or barbecuing ain’t cookin’.” Sam grinned as he waved goodbye to all of them and left by the back door.
Kayla couldn’t keep her eyes off Will or her mind off the kisses they’d shared after the reunion.
You never felt this way with Denver, the voice in her head reminded her.
No, I did not, but then Denver never looked at me the way Will does. I always felt like I was only a step up from him being my pimp. He never asked me to go out on the street, but he always took whatever money was left after the bills were paid, she thought.
As if he’d read her mind, Will said, “I was surprised to see Denver at the reunion with a new wife. How long have y’all been divorced? Don’t answer that. I have a habit of saying things before I think, and that was rude.”
“Not rude at all,” she said. “We never got married. We had lived together for nearly nine years when I finally left him. For several months, I was off the grid, as they say on the cop shows. Cash-only jobs, and for a while I was sleeping on park benches or in a bus station, anyplace where it was warm in the winter or cool in the summer. I was living with a homeless group under a bridge before I landed a job working as a housekeeper for a cranky old lady. Denver was a mistake, and I’m glad that he’s in the past.”
“I imagine all of us have made our fair share of mistakes,” Will said, not a flicker of judgment in his eyes at her revelation.
“I’m done.” Noah downed the last of his tea. “It’s time to start on the bedrooms and bathrooms. We sure appreciate the pizza, Will, but most of all we’re glad for your help. We’re getting pretty tired, and we’ve still got the bedrooms and the bathroom to go. I’m especially glad that you are a tall guy, so I don’t have to reach all the way to the ceiling anymore.”
“I’m glad to help, but y’all are helping me more than I am you. My house is at least twice this big, and I expect it’ll take a couple or three Friday evenings and/or Saturdays to paint it.” Will stood up and gathered up the empty boxes. “I’ll toss these in the back of my SUV when I leave.”
“Thanks again.” Kayla nodded.
“Where are you workin’, Kayla?” Will asked.
“In the bathroom. Teresa’s already got it taped off, so I’m in there doing the work that a
roller can’t do,” she answered. “Sam left his paint pan and roller right outside the door for one of you guys.”
“Are y’all tellin’ secrets over there?” Teresa asked.
“Nope. We were talkin’ about going down the hall and startin’ on the bathroom. If we get this job done tonight, then we can get Sam’s tables and chairs moved in. These walls look pretty bare right now. We talked about a bulletin board, but some pictures might be nice,” Kayla answered.
“How about some old movie posters?” Will asked. “I’ve got a Gone with the Wind one and one of John Wayne when he played in True Grit. You can have them if you want. One could go in the ladies’ room and one in the men’s room.”
Kayla must have had a strange look on her face, because Will chuckled and said, “I don’t have them hung up in my house. Through the past ten years, I’ve gotten all kinds of strange but cute gifts from my Sunday school kids. You mentioned a bulletin board? I’ve got one of those in my office at the store that I was about to toss in the trash. The company sent a new one last week. It’s yours if you want it.”
“That’s fantastic,” Kayla said. “We’ll take all three, and as payment, anytime you’re in this area at noon, stop in and eat with us.”
He offered her a hand. “That sounds great. I’ll bring the stuff to y’all Sunday after church if that’s okay.”
Kayla put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. He let go as soon as she was standing up, but not before she had a vision of taking him down the hall, closing the door on any of the rooms, and having a nice, long make-out session.
Teresa and Noah sat there for a few minutes after Will and Kayla had left. She had been this tired after working double shifts, but that had been weeks ago. Since coming back to Birthright, she’d gone to bed at a decent hour most nights.
“You sure you’re up for a commitment like this?” Noah asked. “I’d hate for you to get bored or tired with it and let all the old folks around here down.”
Miss Janie’s Girls Page 24