Chapter Seven
Seven
A Pearl of Wisdom
from Vera Ingleby
“Sweetie, it’s plain fact that drinks taste better when served in a mason jar.”
Tallulah
Coming home after work was my favorite time of day. The utter happiness of my little family being together again puffed my heart right up, giving me a much-needed second wind.
Because the front door had been open, Mary Joy and I had been able to get inside without anyone realizing. I’d also made sure not to let the screen door slap behind me so it wouldn’t upset Mary Joy, who always kicked up a fuss at loud, unexpected noises.
In the kitchen, Aunt Maeve, Katy, and Juliet were at the island. Juliet and Katy were sitting, pounding plastic-covered chicken breasts with heavy-bottomed glasses.
“Hey, y’all.” I shifted Mary Joy to hold her more tightly as I set down her diaper bag.
Katy’s face lit up. Behind her glasses, her eyes were sparkling with joy. “Mama! Hi! I’m cooking!”
“Not yet, little one. You’re prepping,” Aunt Maeve corrected.
Juliet looked at me, cracked a smile. “I’m not sure what I’m doing other than what Maeve tells me to do.”
“If only everyone would do the same,” Maeve said dryly, an amused spark in her eyes.
I smiled as she came over and drew Mary Joy out of my arms. The baby practically fell forward into her hands. She adored Maeve.
“How’re you doing, honey?” she asked Mary Joy in a melodic tone.
Mary Joy gurgled in response. She continued to coo as her chubby hands clutched Maeve’s beaded necklace, the large wooden baubles too enticing to resist. She brought her mouth forward to slobber on them, and I was happy to see her rash had faded during the day.
I walked over and gave Katy a big side hug, to avoid the raw chicken of it all, and placed a kiss on her forehead. She smelled of sunshine. “Good day?” I asked her.
She nodded and smiled. A real smile, the one that showed a missing top tooth. Not the tight-lipped one she reserved for lousy days when she held in any woes, trying not to add to my worries.
My stomach twisted just thinking about her withholding to spare my feelings. We’d talked about her needing to share. Yet she continued to stifle her emotions.
Like mother, like daughter.
I glanced around. “Where’s Papaw?”
Despite his back pain, I’d fully expected him to be sitting at the dining room table, his headlamp on, his focus narrowed on his current project.
He was stubborn to his core, and I’d never known him to simply rest. It was disconcerting not to see him carving or meandering or singing or teaching Katy something about nature.
A hand shot up over the back of the sofa and gave a little wave. “Here!”
Relieved, I walked over, peered down. The puppy was sound asleep at his feet, looking fluffy and clean and quite huggable.
“How’s your back?” I asked.
“I’ll be right as rain by tomorrow, I know it,” he said.
I smiled. “I bet so.”
“Where’s the munchkin?”
“Right here,” Aunt Maeve said, stepping up beside me. She pried Mary Joy’s fingers off her necklace and plopped the baby on Papaw’s lap.
Immediately, he started making funny sounds and faces at her. She babbled to him, then stuck her fist in her mouth, covering it quickly in drool. I grabbed a clean diaper cloth and dabbed at her face. She clutched the cloth with both hands and tried to eat it.
I wasn’t sure if it was a step up—or down—from the beads.
Aunt Maeve gave me a long once-over. “Long day, darlin’?”
“Not too bad,” I said. “How was your day?”
“Just fine. But Renny did tell me to give you a hug for him, and this seems like the perfect time. Come on, bring it in.” She motioned me forward.
I smiled and stepped into her arms. She squeezed me so tightly that I almost lost my breath.
“Did you tell him about my back?” Papaw asked her.
She released me and leaned against the couch. “Sure did. He said that’s what you get for being old.”
Papaw clucked. “He’s one to talk.”
“He said not to worry about visiting again until you’re good and ready.”
He jostled a giggling Mary Joy and said, “I’m sure I’ll be just fine tomorrow. Just fine.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Maeve rolled her eyes.
“I heard that sarcasm,” he said.
“You were meant to,” she said sweetly.
It seemed to me that siblings never fully outgrew squabbling.
“How’s Uncle Ren feeling today?” I asked.
“As good as can be expected,” she said. “He’s been sassing the nurses. Telling tall tales that he was once a big Hollywood star. You should hear him wax on about his time filming in the Sahara. You wouldn’t know the man doesn’t even have a passport!”
I smiled. “So the next time I visit, I should fuss and fawn and bring a picture for him to autograph?”
She laughed. “Absolutely!”
I gave Papaw another moment with Mary Joy and then scooped her up so she wouldn’t wear him out. The puppy lifted her head, yawned, then put it back on Papaw’s leg. He reached down and rubbed the dog’s ears.
Clearly Katy wasn’t going to be the only one sad to see Daisy go.
I wandered back into the kitchen and asked, “What’re y’all making?”
Katy said, “Chicken picky!”
I glanced at the cookbook on the counter, open to a recipe for chicken piccata.
Which I had little doubt would be called chicken picky from now on.
I glanced at the ingredients, not seeing anything that Mary Joy couldn’t sample.
I’d started introducing her to solid foods about a month ago, slowly adding in new things for her to try. So far there’d been no issues.
“Sounds tasty,” I said. “Need any help?”
“Nope,” Maeve replied, returning to her spot at the island. “You just sit yourself down and relax for a minute.”
Juliet slid off her seat, washed her hands, and grabbed a mason jar from a cabinet. She then went to the fridge, pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea, and filled the glass. I couldn’t help but notice she looked perfectly at home. Being here all day hadn’t scared her off in the least.
I shouldn’t have been surprised.
After all, she’d been led here, to this house.
But why? That was the question I was dealing with now. What kind of grief had she suffered that we, as a family, could help her with?
I couldn’t ask.
I mean, I could, but it wasn’t usually the way it was done around here. We were supposed to wait to ask questions until she opened up about her pain, which was all part of the healing process.
Otherwise, we might scare her off by asking about things we shouldn’t have a clue about. I had to be patient—which was definitely a challenge.
I about fell off my stool in shock when Juliet handed me the glass of tea. “You look like you could use a drink.”
I glanced at Aunt Maeve, who lifted her thin eyebrows and smiled.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I sure could.”
“Mama!” Katy said. “I saw a poster about a lost dog on my way home from camp. It was stuck to a light pole. I don’t think it’s our puppy, though.”
Our puppy. Oh no.
“Really?” Juliet said. “I thought it looked an awful lot like her.”
Bless her for trying.
“Nope.” Katy shook her head.
Juliet slid back onto her stool and gave me a helpless shrug.
“I saw a poster, too,” I said. “At the library. I thought it did look like the puppy who showed up here this morning, so I called the number listed. Because if it is her, she’s probably missing her family.”
Katy’s brightness faded. She leaned back on the stool, folded her arms.
Papaw sat up. He wore the same displeased expression as Katy. “What’s this now?”
Mary Joy reached for my glass of tea, and I let her play with the condensation gathering on its side as I said, “I talked to a man named Jake. He’s actually Evanthe’s nephew.
Last night, his puppy wiggled out of her collar while out on a walk and ran off after a squirrel.
He spent all night looking for her. His dog’s name is Daisy, and he’ll be stopping by later to see if the puppy we found is her. ”
“Why was her collar loose?” Katy asked.
Her tone was accusing, and I sighed.
Aunt Maeve said, “She has a lot of fur, sweetheart. It was probably difficult to judge how tight it needed to be.”
“Humph,” Katy said.
Papaw echoed it.
Mary Joy turned and buried her face in my chest. Rubbed and snuffled.
I walked over to her playpen, grabbed a rattle. I shook it, and she immediately reached for it, her tiredness momentarily forgotten. Thank heavens. If I put her down for a nap now, tonight’s schedule would be all thrown off. She still needed to eat supper, have playtime, take a bath.
“But what if it isn’t a good family?” Katy asked. “Can we keep her then?”
Lord save me from impossible questions.
As though in answer to my prayer, the doorbell rang.
At the sound, the puppy leaped off the couch and started barking.
Papaw moaned as he tried to stand up. And failed.
Startled, Mary Joy let out a wail.
“Goodness!” Aunt Maeve said, hurrying toward the front door. “I’ll get it.”
The puppy followed her. When her barks turned to whines, I had the feeling I knew who was here.
“Sorry, I’m a little early,” I heard him say. “I’m Jake, and I think you know Daisy pretty well by now. Thanks for taking care of her.”
I stood up and jiggled and cooed at Mary Joy, trying to settle her, but she was working herself into a fine frenzy.
Aunt Maeve said, “Come on inside, honey.”
“Sorry for any trouble,” he said loudly to be heard above all the crying, Daisy’s and Mary Joy’s. Maybe Papaw’s, too—he was still trying to stand up.
It was pure mayhem.
I closed my eyes to block it all out and started humming and swaying, holding Mary Joy’s head against my chest. Soon her wails turned to whimpers.
Daisy’s whines softened. And within a few minutes, all was calm.
Mary Joy fell asleep, Juliet had helped Papaw off the couch, and Jake was in the kitchen, getting suspicious glances from Katy and an offer of supper from Aunt Maeve.
“Thank you, really, but I can’t.” He was bent low, fitting Daisy with a pink harness collar that looked brand-new. He had a Band-Aid on the finger he’d cut yesterday. “Seems I need to find a place to stay tonight.”
I bit back the urge to say our inn was full up, and instead said, “I thought you were staying in one of Evanthe’s rentals?” His eyebrow lifted at that, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. I shrugged. “You’re kind of the talk of the library.”
“Well, then you’ll know soon enough that she kicked me out. It’s my fault. She has a strict no-pet policy, and I didn’t even think to ask before I moved in.”
Papaw leaned on the island. “And she ain’t one to bend rules.”
“Not often, no, sir.”
A loud trill suddenly filled the air, and Mary Joy fidgeted in her sleep.
“Sorry!” Juliet said, pulling a phone from her pocket. She glanced at the screen. “It’s the garage. Excuse me.”
She headed down the hall and out the front door, her phone at her ear, her voice fading with each step.
When I looked back at Jake, Katy was inching closer to him, her eyes narrowed. I thought she was looking at the harness, gauging its safety, but no. It was his tattoo, I realized, too late.
“This is cool.” She crouched next to him, touched his arm.
He didn’t flinch. A good sign. But still.
“Katy,” I warned, “remember how we talked about personal space?”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I think it’s cool, too.”
“Mama, there are birds on here. Oh! And a fox. And bunnies! I love bunnies.”
If she had a magnifying glass, she’d surely whip it out.
“Come look!” she added.
“Katy June,” I said quietly so I wouldn’t wake Mary Joy. It was bad enough that the baby was sleeping during suppertime. But to awaken her after only a few minutes of snoozing? That was inviting an evening of incalculable crankiness.
Katy’s head snapped up to look at me. She let out a sigh and shifted her focus back to Daisy, who was belly up on the floor, practically begging for rubs. Katy obliged and said to Jake, “She’s been a really good girl.”
Apparently, Jake’s woodland tattoo had been enough to garner Katy’s forgiveness.
“She is a good girl,” he said. “I need to work on my training.”
I cracked a smile at that.
Aunt Maeve said to him, “You know, I might have a solution to your housing problem if you’re open to it.”
“Really?” he said, standing. “I’m definitely interested.”
“Wonderful. Let me make a quick call.”
Once again, I was taken aback by how tall, how solid he was. I caught myself glancing at his arm, looking for bunnies. I found one and smiled. Then I noticed he’d been watching me, those intelligent brown eyes filled with curiosity, as if trying to figure me out.
Under the guise of rocking Mary Joy, I spun away to hide my hot cheeks. I was quite amazed to realize that I wouldn’t mind showing him who I was, deep down.
That I wouldn’t mind getting to know him, either.
Nope, I wouldn’t mind at all.
Not even a little bit.
Which was a problem, considering I didn’t plan to date anytime soon. Opening my heart up again was simply a risk I didn’t want to take. Not right now, at least.
So, I turned away from those beautiful brown eyes and tried telling myself I was making the right choice.
But I didn’t quite believe it.