Chapter 29
The early-morning sun filtered through the windows as I looked around at the gathering crew. We’d made it this far—four hours on Sunday and already an hour of repairs Monday. My little community had come together in ways I never imagined possible.
Sunday had been a whirlwind. We’d managed to reseal half the windows, fix one of the more problematic bathroom pipes, and caulk every crack we could find near the doors and fixtures. Anya hadn’t mentioned all these things, but Wardell didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
Or maybe he was power-trippin’, I don’t know. Either way, there was plenty left to tackle on Monday. Now all that stood between me and APS’s final approval was this last round of work.
Wardell, ever the leader, clapped his hands and ended our second break by reiterating our assignments.
His voice rang out with authority as he pointed to different tasks.
“All right, people! We’ve got caulking to finish in the old bathrooms and sealing the windows around the house.
Lupita, you and Christine handle the last of the window seals.
Liz, Althea, you’re on the bathroom team.
Richard and I will wrap up the plumbing now that it’s had some time to settle. ”
I watched as they each went off to their stations, a sense of urgency and determination filling the room.
Gabriella winked at me as she slipped into the kitchen, preparing to whip up something delicious for that after-work meal I’d promised everyone.
“It’ll be amazing,” she whispered. I could hear the excitement in her voice.
She was still floating from her victory on Saturday.
This meal would be her first chance to cook as the champion she had always been inside.
An hour or so passed. I walked from room to room, checking in with everyone. Wardell and Richard were hunched over the water heater, working on tightening some pipes, while Liz and Althea chatted in the living room as they sealed the windows so tight not even an ant could find a way in.
I stood back, watching them all work, feeling that deep sense of change within myself.
For so long, I’d been used to doing everything on my own.
Independence had been my shield, more so after the divorce.
The thought of needing anyone else had felt like weakness, something I couldn’t afford.
But here, watching my friends—no, my chosen family—working so hard to help me, I realized that independence doesn’t mean doing everything alone.
It means being strong enough to ask for help and to let people in.
A loud thud sounded from the living room, followed by Wardell’s voice: “We got a problem here!”
I rushed in, my stomach tightening. “What’s wrong?”
“The water heater pipe’s loose again,” Wardell said, frustration creeping into his tone. “I thought we had it fixed, but it’s not holding the way it should. It’s gonna need a new fitting.”
A wave of anxiety washed over me. This was supposed to be the last day. The final push before the APS inspection tomorrow. What if this one problem derailed everything?
Richard caught my eye. “We’ll fix it, Joyce. It’s just a small setback. Don’t worry.”
I nodded, trusting him even though my nerves were frayed. “All right. What do we need?”
“I’ll head to the hardware store,” Richard said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “You want to come with me, Joyce?”
I hesitated for a moment, torn between going with him and staying to keep an eye on the work, but something in Richard’s eyes said I needed to get away. “Sure,” I said, grabbing my purse. “Let’s go.”
“Just ask for Jessie,” Lupita reminded us as we headed out the door. “He knows the discount.”
As Richard and I cruised down the road, I couldn’t help but think about how different this moment would have been if it had been Eric sitting beside me.
We were both the panic type, always convinced that disaster lurked around every corner.
Every little thing felt like a crisis. I guess that was part of what made us work—our shared fear of the sky falling, of losing control.
Over time, though, that kind of living drains you.
It leaves you exhausted, empty. And maybe, I realized now, I was just as much to blame for feeding into it as he was.
I’d been caught in that cycle of thinking the worst, seeing the worst, expecting the worst.
But sitting here with Richard, with his quiet calm. It felt like a release. Like I didn’t have to be on guard all the time because, truth be told, almost none of the things I’d feared ever happened in my life.
I sat with that truth for a moment and allowed myself to get a different picture about tomorrow. Anya would come, inspect the house, and check off every box. She’d leave me alone after that, and my life would go back to normal. Gabriella’s, too.
This was the mental picture I painted for myself, and the picture was so much brighter. So much healthier.
I could get used to this.
As we walked down the aisles, scanning for the right part, Richard finally spoke. “You know, Joyce, watching you with all these people… It’s like you’ve created something here. A family.”
I stopped in my tracks, surprised by his observation, though I had to agree it was true. “I was just thinking the same. Isn’t it beautiful?”
He smiled softly, his hand brushing against mine as we continued walking. “You’re not the only one who’s changed, you know. These past few weeks, being here with you, it’s made me realize something.”
I looked up at him, suddenly aware of the warmth in his eyes.
“I’ve been falling for you, Joyce,” he said quietly, his voice steady but full of emotion. “And I know it’s probably the worst timing with everything going on. And I know you’re not looking for a hero to sweep you off your feet, but I needed to tell you.”
My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t expecting this, not today. But deep down, I knew. I’d felt it, too—the way we’d been growing closer, the way he’d been there for me without asking for anything in return.
“Richard, I…” I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. After the divorce, I’d promised myself I’d never let anyone in again. I’d been so sure that I was done with love, done with men, done with all the work it takes to bring two minds and backgrounds and experiences into agreement.
But standing here, in this hardware store of all places, I realized something. Richard wasn’t asking me to shrink. He wasn’t offering to swoop in and fix my life. He just wanted to be there—by my side.
“I feel the same way,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve been scared of getting hurt again. Scared of falling into a pattern.”
Richard nodded, his hand reaching for mine and holding it gently. “I get it. And I’m not asking you to rush into anything. I just… I want you to know that I’m here. For whatever you need.”
We stood there for a moment. It wasn’t a grand declaration, but it didn’t need to be. It was simple, honest, and exactly what I needed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, squeezing his hand.
He smiled. “Come on. Let’s get this part and head back. We’ve got a water heater to fix.”
By the time we returned, the smell of Gabriella’s cooking had filled the house. The aroma of spices and fresh-chopped garnishes wrapped around me like a warm hug, reminding me that this was my new home.
Wardell had everything back under control, and the repairs were moving along smoothly again. “You got it?” he asked as Richard and I walked in.
“Got it,” Richard said, holding up the fitting.
As they worked on the final repairs, I wandered into the kitchen, where Gabriella was busy stirring a pot on the stove. “Smells like Mary and Martha and Jesus and all the disciples are cooking in here,” I said, leaning against the counter.
She grinned at me. “You’re going to love it. I’m making a little somethin’ new I’ve been working on.”
“You spoil us,” I teased, but the truth was, I didn’t mind one bit.
Just then, I heard the front door swing open, and Althea greeted someone whose voice I didn’t catch right away.
I left Gabriella for the living room, where Miss Mary had poked her head inside. “Oh, hey, Li’l Joy,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Thought I’d see if you needed a taste-tester.”
We all laughed, and Lupita waved her in. “Come on in, Mary.”
“Mighty fine. I need to get you to sign for receipt of this letter, Li’l Joy,” Mary told me as I approached her, seeing as it was my home.
I wasn’t expecting any packages, so this came as a surprise. My eyes scanned the envelope—plain, except for the certified mail sticker in the top corner. My heart skipped a beat as I took it from her and signed the receipt. Miss Mary lingered by the door, watching me with her usual curiosity.
“What is it?” Gabriella asked, peering over my shoulder.
I shrugged, sliding a finger under the flap to open it. The paper inside was thick and official looking, not like the junk mail I’d been getting since I moved in.
“Looks fancy,” Wardell said from across the room. He was fiddling with a wrench, but his attention was clearly on me now. In fact, it seemed like Miss Mary and everyone in the house was now vested in my certified parcel.
I unfolded the letter, my eyes catching on the bold header: Notice of Property Title Transfer—Finalized. There was no one to contest the transfer, so this was only a technicality. But still… It was done.
For a moment, I just stared at it. The words blurred, and I had to blink a few times to focus.
This was it. The official transfer of my grandmother’s house.
My house. A symbol of the independence I had fought so hard for, the freedom I’d always craved.
And now, I was standing in it, fully owning the space and everything it represented.
But instead of retreating into this house all by myself, I’d opened it up to people who cared about me.
I looked around at everyone: Eileen, Liz, Sonia, Christine, Wardell, Lupita, Althea, Richard, and Gabriella—and now Miss Mary. This was home now.
Gabriella touched my arm gently. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah. It’s just… This is the final paperwork. The house is officially mine now.”
“Oh, Auntie Joyce, that’s amazing!” Gabriella grinned, wrapping me in a hug. The others caught on quickly, and soon I was surrounded by congratulations and pats on the back.
“About time you got this place in your name,” Miss Mary said, wagging her finger at me. “Should’ve done that years ago, but I understand. Some things take time.”
“I didn’t realize how much I was holding on to,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone else.
“Well, it’s yours now, honey,” Miss Mary said, her voice gentle. “And you’ve done a beautiful job bringing it back to life. I’m proud of you.” Then she sniffed the air. “What is that smellin’ so good?”
“My surprise,” Gabriella sassed. “You want me to save you some?”
“Absolutely,” Miss Mary chirped. “Soon as I make it around these last few blocks, I’ll be right back here!”
Wardell commanded us to get back to work, and we finished the jobs just as Miss Mary returned and Gabriella’s cousin dropped by with the main course, which my little friend had basically hidden from us until it was time for the big reveal.
Gabriella had outdone herself this time.
She presented us with enchiladas filled with tender, slow-cooked brisket, topped with a creamy chipotle sauce.
On the side were her famous elote cups—sweet corn with cotija cheese, chili powder, and a hint of lime—and a watermelon salad with a tangy Tajín drizzle that balanced the heat of the enchiladas perfectly.
The colors on the table were as vibrant as the flavors promised to be, and everyone let out a collective “ooh” as she set it down.
They all gathered around, plates clattering as everyone served themselves. Wardell was the first to dive in, and after a few bites, he nodded in appreciation. “This is it, y’all. The food’s too good. Feels like we’re havin’ the Last Supper before Joyce faces APS tomorrow.”
The group chuckled, though the joke was a little morbid. Still, I took it in stride, feeling strangely at ease. As I looked around the table at my friends, all laughing and enjoying the meal, I knew deep down that no matter what happened, I was going to be okay.
* * *
That night, I lay in bed, scrolling through the group text messages on my phone. Everyone was saying they’d had a wonderful time, commenting on Gabriella’s food, joking about how sore they’d be in the morning.
I laughed to myself, feeling my own bones creak as I shifted under the covers. For the first time in a long time, I felt…content. At peace. When I tell you it was priceless, I mean just that.
I sent up a silent prayer, thanking God for bringing these people into my life and asking for strength and peace for Elijah and for myself.
Tomorrow’s visit from APS would come with its own challenges, but for tonight, I was grateful. Grateful for the journey, the people, and the hope that had been restored in this little house that had become my home—every nail, every floorboard, and even my shiny new oven.