“You go first,” she said.
I told her about the dream I had when Jackson was so upset. “Sometimes I worry that I’ll end up like my mother, dead at an early age ...” I then went on to tell her about the accident that took Mama’s life. I remembered part of a quote that said something about paying it forward, and hoped that I could help Tressa as much as my newly found family had helped me.
“That’s so sad, but ...” She paused and swiped a tear from her eye. “At least you had a few years of good.”
Poker had taught me to be patient. I waited and sipped on my milk.
“I had four stepfathers, and too many boyfriends to count came and went in my mama’s life. They were all cut from the same cloth. Sweet as sugar cookies until she married them or let them move into the house with us. Meaner than a snake when they got drunk or high. They slapped Mama around and eventually did the same to me. There are a few good memories, but those are centered around when Mama was between men.”
“I guess I should be thankful for those good years,” I said.
Tressa nodded. “Yes, you should. Cherish them. What happened after your mother died?”
“Frank—that was my father—and I went on the road for eight years and played poker,” I answered. “Is your mother still living?”
“Last I heard. She disowned me for going to the cops when one of her boyfriends almost raped me,” Tressa said. “It wasn’t hard to leave her behind and promise Miz Ilene that I wouldn’t look back, but it’s tougher than I imagined. Memories keep popping up, and nightmares about my baby blaming me for not living.”
I scooted over and draped an arm around her shoulders. “I understand, but you can’t blame yourself for what is not your fault.”
“I made the choice to live with a man who had already abused me, so how is it not my fault?” she asked.
“We had crazy role models. You lived with abuse and rejection. That’s what you knew. I lived with a father who loved poker more than his kid. Putting the next card game ahead of everything in the world—including happiness, roots, and a family—is what I knew. We can help each other take baby steps forward until the past is so far back there that it’s not even a blip on the radar.”
“I don’t know that I’d be much help to you,” Tressa said.
I gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Honey, when four women stick together, we’re stronger than a three-ply rope. Nothing can keep us back. We empower each other, and with every conversation, we get tougher.”
“Like that therapy stuff people talk about?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
“So, I can talk to you anytime?”
“Yes, ma’am, even in the middle of the night—and even if I’m out with Jackson.”
“I wouldn’t do that unless it’s an emergency,” she promised. “You can do the same.”
“Thank you,” I said as I stood up. “We are here for each other. Always remember that.”
“I will, but it’ll take a while for the idea to really soak in. I’ve never had that kind of friends or family before.” She yawned. “I think I can sleep now.”
“Me too. Thanks for the therapy session.”
“Right back at you,” she said.
The aroma of hot cheese and pepperoni wafted out from the back seat to meet me when Jackson opened the door. Plain old pepperoni used to be a staple in my poker days. I could order it online and have it delivered directly to my room. Supper could be before or after a game, if it didn’t last past midnight, and I could eat in my pajamas. Pizza, biscuits and gravy, and anything Italian was food that I would never grow tired of. Even if I had eaten the same thing with all the ladies the night before, I was more than ready to have it again.
“I’ve missed you this week,” Jackson said when he slid in behind the steering wheel. “I’ve got cold beers at the trailer, and the pizza is—”
“I know,” I butted in. “It smells so good, and I’m hungry. The special at the café on Saturday is beef tips and noodles, and there wasn’t a single bite left in the pot after the second bus came and went.”
“Well?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you miss me at all?”
I unfastened my seat belt and leaned over the console to kiss him on the cheek. “You are the last person in my thoughts when I go to sleep and the first one when I wake up in the morning. When I’m at work, every little thing reminds me of something you said or that we shared. So yes, I missed you, and yes, I’m glad to have this time to spend with you tonight, and yes, I do want a proper kiss when we get to the trailer. Until I met you, I thought that these kinds of feelings were only found in romance books.”
