What the hell?
I bent over, putting my face in my lap and wrapping my arms around my knees, fighting to keep my breakfast and Dottie’s coffee down as saliva filled the space beneath my tongue in ominous warning.
Then, as abruptly as it started, the nausea vanished.
I stayed hunched for a few seconds, taking slow, deep until my stomach unclenched. When I finally lifted my head, I closed my eyes and drew in the fresh, warm air, letting it fill my lungs. An electric saw whined nearby—one of Chase’s or a work crew’s, I guessed. Traffic droned in the distance. Voices of people walking down the sidewalk drifted on the breeze. Not too far away, the bell from the Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist began to chime. And then the mostprecious sound of all—children laughing—floated to my ears, bringing the grin back to my lips.
I recognized it immediately as belonging to Henry and Addie.
Eager to see what they were up to and share my news, I went around to the back courtyard. There they were, partners in crime, digging happily in the little dirt plot—searching for pirate bones, presumably—while chatting away about the episode ofBubble Guppiesthey’d watched that morning before coming out to play.
“’Morning, Zellie darlin’,” June greeted me, waving a dirty, gloved hand, a garden trowel clutched in the other. Dressed in jeans, a short-sleeved cotton smock, and a floppy sun hat with a wide brim, she looked like she should’ve been hosting a trendy DIY gardening show.
“Well, don’t you look pretty as a peach!” her husband added from where he knelt by an azalea bush. He still somehow managed to look like a man whobelonged on a golf course instead of digging in the dirt.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, heat creeping into my cheeks, not used to compliments.
“Mama!” Henry cried, running toward me to give me a hug, only to be intercepted by June, who scooped him up with a laugh.
“Oh, no, you don’t, little bit,” she said, holding up one of his muddy hands before his eyes with a smile. “You don’t want to get your mama’s dress all dirty, do you?”
Henry cackled, turned to me, making a monster face, fingers curled into claws. “I’m a mud monster, Mama!”
I shook my head. “You sure are! Are you and Addie helping or making a mess for Ms. June and Mr. Earl to clean up?”
June set Henry down. “Oh, he’s no trouble at all. It’s good for Addie to have someone to play with.”
“Thank you so much for looking after him, Ms. June,” I gushed. “I really appreciate it. I start my job with Ms. Dottie tomorrow, so I’ll be able to pay you soon for watching him.”
Earl scoffed as he stood and brushed the dirt from his gloved hands. “Nonsense! You don’t owe us a thing. We’re all family here, Zellie.”
Everyone kept saying that, but the concept seemed so foreign to me. Family that actually cared for one another, looked after each other, not expecting anything in return?
“Earl, honey,” June said softly, apparently sensing my discomfort, “why don’t you go ask Pearlie to bring out an extra glass for Zellie? Pearlie’s making her famous lemonade and some sandwiches, Zellie. Why don’t you join us and tell us all about meeting Dottie? She’s quite the character.”
I hesitated, but then I glanced at Henry who was once more digging happily beside Addie. “Thank you, Ms. June. I’d be happy to.”
June smiled. “Lovely. I’ll just go freshen up and be right back.”
A few minutes later, she emerged looking completely refreshed, this time wearing a flowing, fiery-red sundress that somehow looked both elegant and casual. Just a few steps behind her, Pearlie appeared, also casually elegant in bright yellow, carrying a silver tray with lemonade and glasses, Earl following with another silver tray piled high with finger sandwiches.
“Children,” Pearlie called, “go wash up now.”
“Yes, ma’am!” they chimed, hopping up and racing inside.
Pearlie set the tray on a bistro table and smiled at me warmly. “Well, look at you,” she said. “You look like the world’s been lifted off your shoulders, Zellie.”
“She’s going to be working for Dottie Shay,” June supplied before I could answer. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, indeed!” Pearlie agreed. She then added with a wink, “I think that deserves a celebratory lemonade.”
Earl took a glass for himself and raised it slightly. “I’ll let y’all enjoy your refreshments. I believe Junior and I have a golf game to get to.” He dropped a kiss on June’s head. “Bye, darlin’. Zellie, you enjoy that lemonade. Ms. Pearlie’s is the best around.”
“Yes, sir,” I promised, “it’s delicious.”
And it was. I’d never tasted any lemonade like it—the perfect blend of tart and sweet and some other underlying taste that I couldn’t quite place. Mint, maybe? Or maybe it just tasted better because I actually mattered to the people here.
“Now,” Pearlie said, handing me a plate with sandwiches already selected, “tell us all about your visit with Ms. Dottie.”
