Page 12

Chapter Eight

“ T his smells amazing,” Josiah said as he walked into the kitchen, his nose in the air, smelling fresh, warm, homemade bread. It was not quite noon, and the bread was done. Claire had said they might as well go in and eat.

He was all over that. He had made breakfast for himself this morning—fried eggs with a few vegetables thrown in.

He supposed most people would call it an omelet, but he didn’t get fancy with it.

His mom hadn’t had anything—she hadn’t been hungry.

He’d reminded her that there was yogurt and fruit in the fridge before he left.

His dad was home, and it wasn’t his problem. Not really, although it was his mother, so he would always care, even if he wasn’t necessarily obligated to be the one who took care of her.

“As I recall, I owe you at least two pieces,” Claire said. She’d warmed up to him, and he appreciated the fact that she smiled a friendly smile as she turned around with two thick, crusty pieces of bread with big slabs of butter melting on top of each.

“I don’t think I need anything else for lunch other than this,” he said, grinning at her and then smiling at Miss Mattie.

She looked tired, and he noted several bruises on her arms. It was funny that Claire hadn’t seemed to notice, or maybe she had and Miss Mattie had brushed them off. Still, Claire did not seem the slightest bit worried.

“Miss Mattie, come sit down. I can do whatever it is you’re doing.”

“You will not. You’re taking care of your mom. When you’re here, we take care of you.”

He did not miss the fact that Claire rolled her eyes behind her grandmother’s back. Then she saw him looking at her, and she looked a little bit embarrassed but did not duck her head.

Instead, she shrugged her shoulders a little bit like “whatever.”

Yeah, she didn’t particularly like “taking care” of him. And he couldn’t say that he blamed her. They were practically strangers. Just because he enjoyed talking to her when they worked outside together didn’t mean anything.

Finally, Miss Mattie sat down in a chair, and she seemed to do it gingerly, like her joints were aching too.

Claire seemed to be chalking everything up to Grandma getting older. She’d mentioned something along those lines a couple of times with him.

“Will you say grace for us?” Miss Mattie asked, looking to Josiah where he sat at the head of the table.

That was where she had always put his plate, and it had become “his” seat when he was at Miss Mattie’s house.

He sat here now without thinking, but maybe Claire resented him sitting at the head of the table at the house where she lived.

He didn’t really care one way or the other.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed to be the head of everything.

But he also wasn’t going to let a woman rule him.

He didn’t see that in the Bible anywhere, other than as a sign of weakness in a man and a sign that there were no brave men to step up, so God had to use a woman.

Women could do it—it just wasn’t God’s plan.

He prayed and then used his knife to spread butter out on the bread.

Still warm and soft, and probably his favorite thing to eat in the world.

He bit into it and immediately knew that it was not Miss Mattie’s bread.

It was coarser in texture, wasn’t nearly as soft and fine, but…

the taste was the same, and he closed his eyes as the warm butter oozed over his to ngue, mixing with the yeasty bread and creating an experience that was only possible to have in a farmhouse kitchen, sitting around the big table, with someone who had taken the time to make bread from scratch.

He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that not everyone in modern society got to experience this. It made it all the more precious.

“You’re making me feel like maybe my bread isn’t as bad as what I think it is.” Claire’s words broke into his enjoyment.

They didn’t detract from it, though.

He opened his eyes. “I’m acting a little strange, aren’t I? Maybe I should stop moaning at the dinner table and just go eat outside on the porch.”

They laughed. “It’s not that bad,” Claire assured him.

After she’d rolled her eyes at the idea of taking care of him, he wasn’t sure that she actually meant it, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

Whatever she felt for him, he couldn’t help it.

It didn’t make it any easier that every time he was around her, he admired her a little more.

She was funny and truly wanted to master the bread, and the grit that she displayed as she continued to scrape the paint off the side of the house was inspiring as well.

She had allowed him to order a lift for her, and she had figured out how to use it, and now she was almost up to the second story with it.

Yeah, he thought she was going to do it, and he didn’t tell her, but he was rooting for her.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take you with the other projects, but with Claire in here using the kitchen, I was thinking that it might be nice to do a total kitchen makeover.

I’ve been looking at prices online and getting ideas as well.

Is that something you might be interested in? ” Miss Mattie said, surprising him.

“That’s a pretty big project, but I’m sure I can do it.

I might need a little help with lifting some of the heavier things, like putting the cabinets up and stuff.

” He usually worked alone, but there had been multiple times when he’d wished for a partner.

Someone to help him with lifting heavy things or giving him a hand on a rush job on a yacht.

A lot of times, the highbrow owners wanted impossible work done in an impossible amount of time.

A partner would make the impossible possible some of the time.

Sometimes there just wasn’t anything anybody could do to do what the owners wanted.

But he didn’t complain, because those jobs were what contributed to the nest egg he was saving. Since he didn’t have to pay for room and board and didn’t have a mortgage or rent to pay.

He figured someday his parents would be gone, and… He didn’t know what he would do then, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some money stashed away.

“Maybe before you go back out, I can show you some of the things I was thinking about, to make sure. And then we’ll have to figure out what we need to order.”

“All right. I’ve got all the time you need. As long as the bread keeps coming, I’ll sit here and not move a muscle. You can show me anything. Even purses.”

“Oh. Purses? I didn’t realize you were interested in those,” Claire teased him, and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

He didn’t figure he was probably as good at it as Claire was, and he was guessing he probably didn’t have as much practice.

After all, he was an adult, and adults were supposed to have outgrown the proclivity toward eye rolls, right?

Still, Claire laughed, and he thought she got his joke.

It was fun to share a little bit of wordless interplay and laugh about it.

He had to turn away. He didn’t want to have those feelings toward someone who could barely stand to look at him and would prefer that he not be in her house at all, if she had any say in it.

It was over an hour before Miss Mattie was done showing him all the things she wanted to show him on her computer. He had her email him a few links and told her he’d work up a price for her in the next few days.

By that time, both loaves of bread were gone, and they truly hadn’t had anything else to eat for lunch.

He figured he would probably be hungry in the middle of the afternoon since there hadn’t been any protein at the meal, although the butter he’d consumed would probably keep him full a little bit longer.

And it was worth it, just to have that warm homemade bread.

“You do really well with my grandma,” Claire said as they walked outside the front door together. She could have gone around the side—it would be closer for her—but she seemed to be in a talking mood.

“What did you think of her kitchen?” he asked, not knowing what to say about her compliment.

Thank you? That was the only thing that came to mind.

After all, he wasn’t trying to be good with her grandma.

He just liked Grandma and enjoyed spending time with her and enjoyed talking to her, and he supposed that came out in their interactions.

It wasn’t something that was contrived. But he didn’t want to lecture Claire about that. She probably knew it anyway.

“I liked it. She and I had looked at some things previously, but I didn’t really think that she was going to have it done so quickly.”

He thought about the issues that Grandma had and wondered if the kitchen would even be done before she passed away.

He’d looked leukemia up online, but most of it talked about treatment and life expectancy and that type of thing if someone were going to a doctor.

Since Miss Mattie had chosen to not be treated, he wasn’t sure where that put her.

“Did she seem like she was extra tired to you?” Claire said as they stepped off the bottom of the front porch steps.

She sounded like she hadn’t really wanted to ask him, but the question came out anyway.

Now she tilted her head and studied him, her eyes narrowed as though she were running over all the things in her mind that had hit her and just wanted him to reassure her that Grandma was fine.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t lie. But he didn’t want to tell her what was going on with her grandmother if Miss Mattie hadn’t said something herself. After all, if Miss Mattie hadn’t told her, there must’ve been a reason for it.

“Well, I suppose she does seem more tired than she used to be.” Even from this winter, when she was first diagnosed. Definitely from last summer, when she had been much more spry, still smiling and energetic, although obviously older.

“That’s how I feel too. A lot more tired than what she should be. I think I’m going to say something to her about going to the doctor. I… I don’t want to borrow trouble, but my gut tells me there’s something wrong.”

“Maybe you should see if she would go,” he said, knowing that Claire was going to be mad when she found out that he knew and didn’t tell her. She might not understand that he wasn’t going to spout off knowledge that wasn’t his to share.

“Did you see those big bruises on her arms?” Claire started to take a step away but turned around and shot that question out.

“I saw them while we were talking, yeah.”

“She told me she didn’t know what she did to cause them.”

“I guess that happens sometimes,” he said, knowing that bruising was one of the symptoms of leukemia that he’d read about.

“But big bruises like that. You’d think that she would remember, wouldn’t you?

” She paused and then continued before he could answer her.

It was a good thing, since he really didn’t know what to say.

“I guess part of me wonders whether she’s losing her mind too.

She…seems like she’s all there, but then something like that happens, and I know that she should remember what happened, but she claims not to.

I just… I have so many other things on my mind right now, I don’t know if I can handle anything happening to my grandma. ”

“If something happens to her, God’s with you. He’s not going to give you more than what He will help you handle.”

“That’s not helpful,” she said, leveling her gaze at him and not smiling.

He didn’t figure it would be. People knew it, but they insisted on worrying anyway. “I’ll be here to help. Although that might not be any more helpful.”

“I guess it should be. I should be happier about God being with me than you, but… You’re starting to feel like an anchor.

Thank you.” She paused for a moment, and then she added, “I’m sorry I rolled my eyes.

It wasn’t necessarily at you—it was at the idea that she was volunteering my services and?—”

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t annoying. I got that anyway, and?—”

She laughed. “I saw.”

He knew she had, and they laughed about it, which was what he wanted.

He didn’t want silent wars behind Miss Mattie’s back where the two of them couldn’t get along.

He wasn’t going to take offense at anything she did.

He was just going to make up his mind that he was going to get along.

If she chose not to, she’d have a hard time fighting with someone who had already decided they weren’t going to fight.

Now, if he could only live that out somehow.

“I guess just talking to you somehow made me feel better. Thanks,” she said as she turned around and started walking away again, disappearing around the corner of the house.

He had the flower beds mostly fixed, although the ones alongside the house needed to have new weed fabric put down. He was going to wait until after Claire was done scraping the paint off that side before he got into a job like that.

The railing on the back porch needed to be fixed, and that would be a job he could finish before he went home today.

Thinking it was funny that maybe he and Claire were going to be friends after all, he found himself whistling as he stepped off the walk and followed her around the house.