twenty-eight

Tessa

I carry the last load of laundry upstairs and dump the basket onto my bed beside the suitcase. I busy myself with folding the clothes when a soft knock sounds on the door. It’s slightly ajar, and I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Mama.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” I answer.

She picks up a shirt from the pile of clothes and starts helping me fold. Mama’s expression is thoughtful, and I can tell she wants to say something. She and my dad are different. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, he just tells it straight up, and he doesn’t mince words. My mother, on the other hand, is a talker, and when she gets quiet, it means she’s stewing over something.

“You okay, Mama? You bite that tongue any harder, it might bleed.”

Her eyes flit to my face. “I’m worried about you; that’s all. You can stay here, you know.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I have a life there. A job that I love and friends.” Though I’ve alienated every one of them, except for Dante. Not that they’ve been beating down my door either, but I get it. Most people had no idea what to say to me when Trevor died, especially because it was so unexpected.

“Are you keeping the condo?” my mother asks.

“I haven’t decided on anything for sure. I’m not even certain I’ll stay in Chicago. I’m just trying to take it one day at a time.” Sometimes, that is too much.

“Well, where would you go?”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know, Mama.”

“Don’t get all huffy with me, young lady. I’m just asking.” Her eyebrows practically touch her hairline.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…you’re asking me questions I don’t know the answers to.” I unzip the suitcase and lay it open, so I can set the clothes inside. “When I was younger and would stress about something, do you remember what you would say to me?”

She smiles and nods. “You don’t eat a whole pie in one sitting. You have to eat it one slice at a time.”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do. What else is on your mind?”

She might as well lay it all out there. I already know where this is going.

“I heard you sneak out the other night. What’s going on between you and Dante?”

There it is. I knew it was coming, and I don’t want to have this conversation with her.

“Mother,” I say, knowing full well she’ll ignore the warning.

“No, ma’am,” she says with a wave of her finger. Then, she points to my luggage. “Zip this thing, and put it on the floor, so we can sit down and talk.”

I do as she said, and we both sit on my bed with our legs crossed, facing each other.

“Now, talk to me. I’m not going to judge you.”

The woman is relentless, and it makes me crazy, but it’s also one of the things I love about her.

“Dante is my friend, and I care about him.”

“I know you do. I just want you to be careful—you know…look before you leap.”

“Dante wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I know that. You’re finally starting to pick up the pieces, and you’re strong, Tessa.” She reaches out to squeeze my hand. “But what about Dante?”

“What are you talking about?” I swear, she’s had too much sun.

“Bless your heart,” she says in that patronizing Southern way.

“Mama!” My mouth gapes open.

“Close your mouth, sweet pea, or you’re likely to catch a fly.”

I snatch a pillow from behind me and bop her with it, aware she’ll retaliate. And she does. Soon, my bed is in disarray, and pillows are flying.

“What in the world are you two doing?” Daddy is grinning so big, I think his face might split.

I point at my mother. “She started it.”

“Tessa Rae, you can go to hell for lying.”

“The same way you can for stealing,” my dad and I say in unison.

We all bust out laughing.

The woman has an entire arsenal of sayings, wisdom imparted to her by my grandma, and she whips them out every chance she gets.

I walk up to my dad and wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, baby bear,” he says, squeezing me tight. “Hey, Mags, do you know what we need?” He looks over my head to my mother.

I feel her arms go around me, reaching for my father, so I’m in the middle between them. They rock me back and forth, hugging me.

“Tessa sandwich,” their voices singsong together.

This time, I’m laughing instead of crying. I’m way too old for the ridiculous antics, but I wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything.

“All right, you two, let’s go downstairs, and I’ll make ice cream sundaes,” Mama says.

She doesn’t have to tell us twice. As we make a beeline for the stairs, my father starts singing one of his nonsensical little ditties about French men and ice cream. I’m transported back in time to where my entire world consisted of my parents and these walls.

It’s late, and since Dante and I are leaving early tomorrow, I decide to sit on the front porch with a glass of sweet tea before calling it a night.

I hear the door creak and turn my head to see my father stepping outside with his own glass of tea in hand.

“I thought you went to bed.”

“Your mama did, but I wanted to come out and check on you.”

“I’m fine, Daddy,” I say to assure him.

“Your mother and I have been married a long time, and if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: When a woman tells you she’s fine, you can guarantee she’s anything but. If you ask her what’s wrong and she says nothing…you can bet the farm it’s something.”

He sets his glass down and then angles his chair to face the porch swing, so he can look at me. Between the moon and the citronella candle, there’s enough light for us to make out each other’s faces.

“I will be fine. How about that?” I give him a small smile.

“I’m glad Dante is going back with you.”

“Me, too.”

“Baby bear, I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.” He clears his throat, and I wait patiently. “I want you to promise your old man something.”

“All right.”

“Not everybody gets it right on the first try. If you get a second chance, take it.”

For some reason, I think he means Dante. Not knowing how to respond, I just say, “I’ll try.”

He stands up, rights his chair, and grabs his tea. “That’s my girl. Now, don’t forget to blow out the candle and lock the door before you go to bed.” My father drops a kiss to the top of my head. “Love you, Tessy.” My father’s use of nicknames never ceases to make me feel like a little girl.

“Love you, too, Daddy.”

He goes inside, and I take a few more minutes to just sit and listen to the crickets chirp.