Chapter 12 #3
The car was silent for the rest of the drive to Dawes House.
As the driver pulled up to the front of the house, a new wave of panic hit.
What was the protocol after getting dropped off by a driving service?
Did I tip? Say something? I’d never even taken an Uber.
How was I supposed to know how to deal with this?
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly as soon as Henry started up the sidewalk to the front steps. “I don’t know how this works. Am I supposed to tip you? I don’t have any cash…”
He smiled reassuringly. “No, ma’am. No need. Mr. Proffitt has already taken care of that.”
We were barely inside the building when Pearlie and Iris rushed toward us, offering hugs to both Henry and me, gushing about how glad they were that Henry was okay and that we were back home, safe and sound.
“Iris,” Pearlie said, taking Henry’s hand, “I’m going to go up with Zellie and Henry to make sure they’re settled. Could you please let June know that I’ll be a little late to our afternoon tea?”
“Of course, Ms. Pearlie,” Iris agreed. She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Just let me know if there’s anything you need, Zellie.”
I nodded and allowed Pearlie to take the lead as we made our way to the elevator. When we reached the apartment, she opened the door and ushered us in.
I frowned, surprised that the door was unlocked. I must not have locked it in my haste to get Henry to the hospital. Or someone had unlocked it while we were gone. Either way, it made for a stunning homecoming.
The house was filled with vases of flowers that looked like they were cut from June’s garden. And several bouquets of balloons in bright colors and themes that reflected the TV shows Henry had discussed with Whit at dinner the other night filled in some of the remaining empty space.
“Look, Mama!” Henry cried, his face beaming. “Look at all the balloons!”
“You’d best go look in your room, Henry,” Pearlie told him with a wink.
His eyes went wide, and he hurried off down the hall as fast as his still-healing body would allow. “Oh, my gosh!” he shouted from his bedroom.
I glanced at Pearlie who just smiled knowingly and gestured toward the hall. “Go on.”
When I stepped into Henry’s room, I gasped. The cracks in the walls and ceiling had been repaired, the entire room repainted. And on Henry’s bed was a new teddy bear and a stack of books tied with a ribbon.
I shook my head in disbelief. “How…? Who did all this?”
“Well, now,” Pearlie said from just behind me. “Who do you think? But I believe the books are a get-well present from Dottie Shay.”
My heart swelled with such emotion I thought it might burst. Words failed me. But apparently that was okay. Pearlie just slipped her arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Pearlie,” I finally managed, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I don’t know how I can thank all of you for this.”
“Oh, don’t thank us,” she said. “Whit had three crews in here fixing things up. We just handled all the flowers and food.”
“Food?” I asked, my brows drawing together.
“Oh, honey,” she said with a laugh. “What kind of neighbors would we be if we didn’t smother you in food in your time of adversity? You’ll probably want to freeze some of it. Iris made enough peach cobbler to feed an army!”
We left Henry perusing his new books, and I walked Pearlie to the door, still stunned by everything they’d done to welcome Henry home. Before she could go, I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly.
“Now, now,” she said, patting my back. “It will all be okay, baby. Don’t you worry.”
I nodded and released her, blinking back fresh tears. “Yes, ma’am.”
She turned to leave but paused and faced me again. “Whit is a good man,” she told me. “But he wouldn’t have done this for just anyone, Zellie.”
My cheeks grew warm, remembering what Whit had told me about his father. I prayed Pearlie didn’t think I was playing Whit just to get what I could from him and then would take off in the middle of the night.
When I said nothing, she patted my cheek. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. You’ll definitely be more comfortable now, but let us know if you need anything. Whit will be back in a few days.”
I went to check on Henry and only then realized the window air conditioning units were gone. There was a soft click, and a rush of cold air hit me in the face.
How in the world had Whit managed to get the air conditioning installed while we were gone? That must’ve been one of the work crews Pearlie had referenced.
Grinning, I sat down on Henry’s bed and texted Whit:
Thank you. For everything.
I added a heart emoji and sent it before I could change my mind.
A few seconds later, he responded with just a terse:
You’re welcome.
My heart sank a little, realizing I’d been hoping for something more personal. Maybe I’d misread things. Maybe he’d just taken the opportunity to do repairs while we were out of the apartment and there wasn’t anything else behind it.
After reading a few books with Henry and settling him down for a nap, I finally made my way to the kitchen and laughed.
Food was piled high on the counters, in the freezer, in the refrigerator…
I hadn’t known there were so many casserole recipes.
And in the refrigerator door were seven sippy cups filled about halfway with a mixture of some sort.
A note was taped to the first: One per day. Add yogurt.
Smoothies.
There was no message of rebuke from June, no “I told you so.” Just instructions she knew I would now follow. My pride wasn’t worth Henry’s pain.
I sighed and picked up one of the cups, gave it a shake, then set it on the counter so I could give Henry one with his supper that evening. I still didn’t know exactly what was in the concoction June had been giving Henry without my knowledge, but it had clearly helped him.
Exhausted, I went to my own bedroom and stretched out on the bed.
That’s when I noticed a book on the bedside table that hadn’t been there before.
Frowning, I picked it up, running my fingers over the cover.
It was old but well cared for. I opened it and stared at the cover page, unable to believe what I was holding: a first edition volume of poetry by Lord Byron.
Later, as I gingerly paged through the delicate tome, my phone buzzed with a text notification. My heart lifted when I saw it was Whit again.
I hope you enjoy your present. From my personal collection.
I look forward to discussing with you.
Grinning, I curled onto my side and dozed off while reading the poems I loved so well.
Maybe Pearlie was right. Maybe everything would be okay after all.