Chapter 25 #2
I blinked, taken aback by his confession but grateful for it all the same.
Part of me had expected another offhand remark, but I saw something different in his eyes—earnestness.
I breathed easier. “Thank you, Wardell. That means a lot. But let me tell you something—you’ve got a treasure in Christine. Not every woman would put up with you.”
Wardell chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
“Yeah… I realize that every day of my life. She’s made it real clear I need to straighten up if I want people to respect me—or even like me.
” He cleared his throat. “Now, let’s get to work.
Write down these materials I tell you we need so you can give the list to Lupita. ”
Dutifully, I typed the list of parts and tools into my cell phone. Richard returned and listened to the more detailed plan that Wardell suggested the second time around. I left the two of them alone, since I wasn’t technically on the water heater “team.”
I supposed I was just on the material-buying team, because when I got back to the living room, Gabriella had two sets of videos playing. One about caulking on the television, another about fixing leaky pipes on her large iPad. The girls had a classroom in full session.
About half an hour later, Lupita’s list had grown to an estimated six hundred dollars’ worth of materials we needed, but she assured us that she’d be able to get a few hundred knocked off with her contact at the store.
Wardell shrieked, “Well, alrighty then! I need to be hooked up with your connections!”
Here again, Christine intervened. “She’s my friend. That’s enough.”
Wardell charged us all to be back at the house tomorrow morning. “I need everyone here in the morning. Nine a.m. sharp to start on your assignment.”
“I have to go to work,” I blurted out as the others began to mumble their objections.
Wardell huffed like this was something we’d all been planning for months, knowing full well he just got this position less than an hour ago.
I gave him the don’t-go-all-dramatic eye.
Richard smoothed things over with, “Why don’t we all decide on a good time that works for everyone?”
“Saturday morning,” Althea suggested. “That way we can all rest our bones and apply our ointment on Sunday. And that’ll give me time to meet you all at the hardware store. I’m definitely going to need some help with this list,” she thumb-scrolled her phone.
I shook my head. “Saturday won’t work. I’ve got the electrician coming by. He may need to shut off the power for a while, and that’ll make it too hot in here for us to work.”
No one argued my point there.
“And I have a cooking contest Saturday,” Gabriella said to my surprise.
My eyes flicked over to her immediately, searching her face. A cooking contest this weekend? I’d known she planned to compete again, but it wasn’t like her to keep the details of her culinary plans quiet. If nothing else, I thought I was a shoo-in for head taste-tester.
But now, she was avoiding my gaze, looking at everyone else in the room except me. “Sunday?” she continued her quest.
“Sunday morning is for church,” Christine said incredulously.
“After church?” Gabriella suggested.
Wardell mumbled, “I don’t like to work on the Sabbath.”
Christine stared him. “You don’t even attend church on the Sabbath.”
He shrugged.
Christine said, “Service ends at eleven. We can be here by eleven thirty.”
“My church ends at noon. I can grab a bite to eat and be here by one,” Richard said.
Gabriella echoed him as she threw out the suggestion, “One, then?”
Heads nodded.
“One, it is,” I said, solidifying the plan, still distracted by Gabriella’s unexpected declaration about the contest.
What’s going on? I wondered again.
But Wardell had the last word, of course. “Okay. If we’re gonna start that late on Sunday, we probably won’t get finished in one day. Caulk and things need time to dry. So everybody plan to be here Sunday afternoon and Monday evening. Will that work?”
I was prepared to hop in and ask if maybe we could have some come Sunday and others come Monday because I didn’t want to be too much of a bother.
But the sight of all those eager heads bouncing up and down literally shut my mouth.
They were all willing to sacrifice their time in order to help me. The good news sank in.
Wardell barked more orders. “Come dressed to work. Tennis shoes, hair pulled back, ready to put in some work. Take all your pain pills before you get here. Stretch. Eat a good breakfast, but not too much. It’s hard to work over a bulging stomach.”
Valeria gave him an “Amen.”
Christine rubbed her husband’s arm and whispered, “Okay, honey. That’s enough. This isn’t boot camp.”
“Yes, it is!” Liz countered. “Because it could have been any one of us. Except you.” She pointed at Gabriella.
“Anybody could see one of us having a senior moment—locked out of our car, slip and fall at a park—and overreact. Start questioning our minds, our ability. Threaten our freedom. We gotta take the wheel!” She thrust a fist in the air.
“Take the wheel!” Gabriella, her lone soldier, yelled while pretending to hold a car’s steering wheel.
Richard took a moment, glancing around the room as if drawing inspiration from the faces in front of him. “We can do better than that,” he muttered. He straightened up, arms crossed, thinking hard for a second. Then his face lit up as an idea sparked.
“How about this,” he started, his voice steady. “We’re not just helping Joyce. We’re helping all of us, right? So how about something that captures that—keeping our independence and watching out for each other.” He paused for effect, then added, “How about, ‘Stand strong, help along!’”
He thrust his fist into the air, and this time there was a different energy behind it.
“Stand strong, help along!” he repeated, louder.
The room seemed to wake up, and one by one, people began nodding, catching on to the spirit of it.
“Stand strong, help along!” Gabriella chimed in enthusiastically, raising her fist.
Sonia, looking a bit more convinced, followed suit. “Stand strong, help along!”
The others echoed it, and soon the room was filled with voices, stronger now, carrying the chant: “Stand strong, help along!”
Gabriella, ever the firecracker, couldn’t just chant. She started dancing, moving her arms in a little shimmy that got everyone’s attention. “Stand strong, help along!” she sang, hips swaying. Just dancing away like she hadn’t thrown me for a loop with that cooking-contest announcement.
Why didn’t she tell me? This wasn’t the time for questions, though.
Not to be outdone, Eileen, usually so composed, grinned wide and jumped in with a jig of her own, bouncing from side to side. The sight of her doing an impromptu Irish dance had everyone in stitches. Laughter filled the room as we all gave in to the goofiness of the moment.
Sonia, with a wink, threw her hands up and spun around while Liz started clapping in rhythm. Even Wardell, who had been the grumpiest of the bunch, cracked a smile and joined in with a playful fist pump to the beat. “Stand strong, help along!”
It was contagious. Before long, everyone was moving, swaying, and chanting. Richard added a little twirl to his step, then threw his arm around my shoulder. “Stand strong, help along!” he called out, his voice full of laughter.
I gave in, laughing and raising my fist with the rest of them. My Robin Creek family. In this moment, with the chant echoing around me and the joy in everyone’s faces, the house didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a project we’d all taken on together—proof that I wasn’t alone.
Gabriella twirled into Richard, nearly knocking over a chair, which sent the room into fits of giggles again. Wardell shook his head, but the smile was unmistakable now.
“All right, all right!” Wardell hollered over the noise, half serious, half amused. “We gotta save some of that energy for fixin’ this place up!”
The room erupted in cheers, but the chant had done its work. We were ready to face the task ahead—together, with laughter and plenty of support.
My friends grabbed their bags and began walking toward the door. Conserving our energy was probably a good idea, given Warden Wardell.
Just as I was getting ready to say goodbye to everyone, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Elijah.
“Thanks, everyone. I’ll see you all Saturday. I have to take this call.” I waved and stepped away from the group, leaving the lockup to Gabriella. “Hey, EJ. How are you?”
“I’m okay, Grandma,” Elijah said, his voice quieter than usual. “Sounds like a bunch of people are with you. Who’s there?”
“Oh, just Gabriella and the ladies from the library and some other people who are going to help with the final repairs around the house.”
“How’s Miss Gabriella?”
“Oh, she’s fine. She’s just seeing our guests to the door.”
He sighed. “I wish I was there.”
He wasn’t the only one with that wish.
“You having a good time with your grandfather?”
“He’s not too bad, but he’s kinda strict. Like today, I wanted to go to the park with my friend, but Grandpa said no because… He said there are too many strangers around. And he said some of the kids in this neighborhood are questionable. He didn’t even want to talk about it. Just said no.”
I released the tension with a drawn-out breath, feeling like I wanted to rescue him but knowing I couldn’t change the situation.
Only his mother could do that. “I’m proud of you for sticking it out, Elijah.
It’s not easy, but you’re doing great. Just keep being respectful, and before you know it, the summer will be over and you’ll be back in a familiar neighborhood.
I’m sure your mom and dad will let you play with your friends. ”
“I miss you, Grandma,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“I miss you, too, EJ. I’m glad we had all those weeks together earlier this summer.”
“Me, too.”
After we said our goodbyes, I stared at the phone for a moment, a heaviness settling over me. Elijah was doing his best, but I could tell this arrangement wasn’t ideal for him.
Richard walked up beside me, breaking me from my thoughts. “Everything okay? You looked a little worried when you took the call.”
“Yeah. That was my grandson. He’s…bored.”
“Only child?” he asked.
“Yes.” I left it at that, not wanting to go into all the drama with me and Eric and Terri—who still had not engaged in a grown-up conversation with me since she’d sent her father to pick up my grandson.
The two times she’d called me back, I was in the car with EJ, so Terri and I couldn’t really talk freely.
“I’m an only child, too,” Richard said. “Teaches you how to be creative. Make up your own fun. Your own friends.”
“Mmmm,” I said, nodding at my phone.
“But you’ve got some real friends here.”
I gave my full attention to him now. “Yes, I do. And I’m grateful. Friends are exactly what I needed.”
He nodded. “Glad to be in the number.”
His words lingered between us for a moment, and I felt a quiet gratitude growing stronger.
This wasn’t just about fixing a house anymore—it was about rebuilding something inside me.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed being part of a circle like this until I found myself in the middle of it.
And Richard, with all his teasing and quiet support, was becoming someone I could count on.