As I snapped my seatbelt closed, my momma said, “I have a surprise for you, Sweetie.I know I need a real job, and hair is my passion.I am going to beauty school!My friend Heather has a salon, and they will teach me everything from hair dye to nails.When I pass the course, they will hire me full-time.”
“That’s great news, Mom.How are you going to pay for the class, though?”
“I have my way,” she deviously said.
She had to have been up to something.Despite visiting James’s grave for the first time, she returned to her usual peppy and inspirational self.Money didn’t grow on trees, which made her careless attitude concerning.I did not know how she paid for the headstone either.
“I am happy for you, Momma, but we should discuss this.I could pick up a couple of extra shifts to get the money for the class.I don’t want us to struggle more than we already are.I think that this is a good thing.We must be responsible about it, though,” I said, trying to crunch numbers in my head.
“Sweetie, I said I have it covered.”
I wasn’t paying attention to the teal VW bus in the driveway, or the people huddled around our door.I was so focused on trying to help my mom accomplish her dream, thinking about school and James’s grave, that it took me a minute to put two and two together.
Darren, Jesse Young, and The Matches sat on our porch stoop, waiting for us to get home.The band was styled back in their usual attire.Darren smiled when he saw us whipping into the driveway, and I couldn’t help but smile back.Smiling could be contagious if you let it be.The entire band’s eyes creased, and lips rose while I stared at them.
“Did you plan this?”I questioned my mom.
She shrugged and said, “I told you I had to make it up to you.What are you waiting for?”
Chapter Thirty
Resilience
Song: Wish You WereHere—Pink Floyd
July 18th, 1975
Darren hugged and squeezed me tightly.I was a ripe peach, finally ready to be picked.The Matches gave me genuine hugs in addition to Darren’s embrace.When I got to Jesse, his eyes lit up, and he said, “Good to see you, Penny!We have much to discuss.”
Jesse’s face was not as rigid, and something about his aurora had changed.
We had more than “much” to talk about.I last spoke to Jesse and the band at the funeral.My world had changed dramatically since that day in the church, and I didn’t know where to start.I encouraged them to come inside to be a good host, and they hurried in to sit in our quaint living space.
Keith complimented our bright yellow circle pillows as he got situated on the couch.My momma kept our house spotless and decorated with flare.She liked things to match and put thought into each piece in each room.
“I am sorry for writing to Zipper,” I blurted out.
