Chapter 75 Georgia
Georgia
It’s been over a week since the arcade date with Eddie, and I feel like I’ve shed a heavy, itchy coat now that we’ve talked
and I know we’re both looking beyond the hurts of the past. That we’re giving this relationship a real go again. It’s not
a guarantee of anything specific in the future, but it is a second chance.
I think about him as I pull up to June’s Beauty Shop in Junie’s truck. Construction has been under way for a few days, and
I want to see it with my own eyes. Even with all the effort that went into raising the money and all the time the shop felt
out of reach, my mind hasn’t shifted construction out of the “impossible” category. Also, I know Dad is already here overseeing
the work, and I have a refund check for him.
Well, I don’t actually have checks, so Junie and I drew one (just like we would’ve as kids), and I sent him the money electronically.
I just want to hand it back over to him physically because making our progress into something tangible right now makes it
better, fuller. Especially while Junie’s struggling health-wise.
When I pop open the door to the shop, the drywall is up, not a rip, hole, or tear to be seen, and the crew is beginning to prep the floors. Dad hovers in the lobby area perusing a packet.
He glances over when I enter. “Hey, isn’t it looking great in here?”
I nod. “I can’t believe how fast it’s moving now after being stalled for so long.”
“I’m in touch with the guys every day. We’ve got a great crew, which certainly helps.”
Seeing him in action—here for this shop, for his girls, and very likely for the memory of his late wife—feels like he has
finally and fully come back to us. As our dad, the man he was before we lost Mama.
“Thank you,” I say. “For all you’re doing. And here.” I hand him the floppy slip of paper.
He glances at it and smiles. “What’s this?”
“I sent you the money, but it was a fun project for me and Junie. You can probably guess which components she’s responsible
for.”
“Oh, I’m going to say the glitter border and the rainbow-marbled shading.”
“Bingo. We wanted you to have your seven hundred dollars back.”
“Come on, honey. I don’t begrudge y’all the money. You raised a massive sum, and I’ve got this to give.”
“I know, but that’s not what it’s about. Junie and I have agreed that we want everyone who stepped up in the community to
get the hand in it they offered. Those Brownies worked hard, and between you and me, they’re a rowdy bunch who just might
pack a punch if you pushed them to it. Plus, you’re already part of the crew.”
He sighs but not unkindly. “If you insist.”
“I mean, there are no guarantees we won’t need to call on you in the future.” I toss him a wink and a grin.
A deep laugh comes from his belly. “Hopefully nothing of this scale, but moving forward, I hope I’m a first call when any
of you need help.”
I nod slowly, and our eyes stay fixed.
Dad clears his throat. “I could’ve done better back when y’all were young. I could’ve been better. When we lost your mama,
it crippled me, and it took me a long time to figure out how to get up.”
I reach out and squeeze his arm. “It’s ok. We were all just doing our best. Not to mention, you’re here now, and that’s what counts.”
As soon as we had the money and Junie reached out to Goldilocks to restart the planning, she looped in Dad. From there he,
as the person with true financial experience, was naturally included in continuing conversations. And as Junie has become
sicker, he’s really stepped in to keep the progress moving. The design was already complete, and Junie has been spending her
days on the sofa mulling over cream wall paint samples. They are taped up around the Clementine and rotated based on time
of day and the way the light hits. It’s an outstanding task she is taking to heart.
“I’m lucky to have you. All of you,” he says.
“Me too,” I say.
“Everything ok at the house? With our littlest Louise? No results yet, right?”
I lean against the fresh drywall. He’s talking about the second MRI Junie had late last week. “It’s peaceful. Junie is slow
and not herself—aside from the personality component that’s impenetrable. No results yet, but last time they called and scheduled
an appointment so the doctor could explain in person. But she’s still in the garden some. Noodling over the paint choice for
the walls. Cece and I are working out a date for her to come help me move out of the apartment in Atlanta.”
Dad smiles. “Well, I like the last part. You don’t want my help?”
“You know, I think it could be good for us. Things are better between us.”
He holds up his hands. “Well, I know better than to interfere with you wonderful women.”
A crew member walks up, and we stop talking to look at him.
“Sorry, y’all, but we’re going to need the space.” He gestures to the floor prep. “We need the whole floor free, and—”
“We’re in the way,” I say. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
The crew member smiles. “We know you’re ready to get back to business, so we’re working our fastest.”
“Bless you all,” I say, taking Dad by the crook of his arm and pulling him out the door with me.