18. Jensen
18
JENSEN
T he doorbell rings and I look at Nessa. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, I guess.” She looks nervous, and I can’t reassure her because despite me reminding Miss Thelma to be nice, there’s no guarantee that she will be.
Turning the handle, I open the door and find the woman in question on the porch. She smiles but it’s soft, and there’s no cat-printed anything on her except a small pin on her white gauzy top.
“Stop starin’ and let an old lady in,” she huffs, and I chuckle as I take the pie from her and inhale the sweetness of the peaches and the buttery crust. Peaches may not be in season, but I know these were either canned or frozen from the summer, and I sigh as I place it gently on the counter.
Wrapping her in a hug, I drop a kiss on her shock of white hair. “Thank you.”
“Don’t start gettin’ soft on me now, boy,” she chides as she pulls back to pat my chest.
“I won’t let him, don’t worry,” Nessa says with a wry grin that has Miss Thelma’s eyes lighting up.
“Oh, you’ll do just fine,” she says, walking over and squeezing both of Nessa’s hands in hers. “It’s very nice to meet you, dear. Jensen has told me all about you.”
Nessa looks over Miss Thelma’s shoulder at me and smirks. I roll my eyes because this is a lot less fun when the attention is on me.
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Nessa says, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m Nessa and I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well.”
“Only the good stories, I hope.” She winks and then turns as I scoop Remi up from the bassinet and hand my daughter to the one woman who has seen me on my best days and my worst.
“Meet your great-granddaughter, Remi Maeve.”
Miss Thelma’s entire face is one of awe as she gently trails her wrinkled finger over Remi’s cheek. My daughter doesn’t move, content to dream as one more person falls immediately in love with her.
“Oh, Jensen, you did so good,” she says reverently before turning to Nessa. “And you, my dear, what an amazingly selfless thing to do for your cousin—to honor her memory and wishes. We cannot thank you enough for bringing her here.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as Miss Thelma sways side to side and Nessa blinks quickly, her eyes glassy as that statement settles around us.
“Remi is amazing, and I’ll do everything I can to preserve her mama’s memory. I have some boxes of pictures at my parents’ house from when we were growing up to sort through, but I’m just really thankful this all worked out given the circumstances.”
Nessa’s hand glances over the crown of Remi’s head as she says the words, and I have to excuse myself to the kitchen to catch my breath.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this onslaught of emotions.
“Hey…” Nessa’s voice is soothing and so is the way she touches her hand to my forearm. “Are you all right?”
“I like her better when she’s snarky.”
“I can see that,” she muses. “If it makes you feel better, I had to have Kinsley help me with my outfit tonight, and she vetoed like ninety percent of the things I have here.” She raises her eyebrows. “Pickings were slim.”
I snort and rest my hip against the counter as I face her. “Thank you.”
“For not being able to dress myself? You’re very welcome.”
“Y’all are gonna make me go gray.”
“Perks of bein’ surrounded by such beautiful women all the time,” Miss Thelma stage-whispers then looks down at Remi and adds, “Your daddy is gonna be in a whole lotta trouble with you, isn’t he?”
“Could you not?” I grumble, pulling a tray down from the cabinet so I can bring in everything off the grill.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all. Besides,” she says with a wolfish grin, “I know all your best stories.”
“Not all of them,” I mumble as I push past Nessa toward the backyard. The sound of both women laughing warms me from the inside out, my house filled with life for the first time in a long time. Opening the grill cover, I pause and look over my shoulder where I can see them through the window.
Miss Thelma had burst into my office and more subtly into my home—but it’s so much more than that. I’d been hiding away, scared of bursting the little bubble Nessa and I had created, as if people in this town wouldn’t welcome me and my daughter with open arms.
The little girl inside will be loved and cherished and spoiled beyond her wildest dreams. Miss Thelma’s presence didn’t eliminate my fears, but she did assuage them.
And now I need to make the effort to manage the rest.
Turning off the grill, I arrange the chicken, corn, and potatoes on the tray and turn to head inside. I feel lighter, the weight of the last several weeks finally fading away like dust on a dirt road.
I can do this.
With the help of my friends and family, I can absolutely do this.