After putting in sixteen- and eighteen-hour days as a lawyer, Jackson had decided that Uncle D. J. was right in his thinking and had always put aside his work and rested on Sundays. That week he had his usual breakfast of a bagel with cream cheese and strawberry jam smeared on top and two cups of coffee, and he was headed outside when he noticed the hope chest sitting against the wall in the living room.
The key had been taped to the back and wasn’t visible, and there was no way he would betray Miz Lucy’s trust and open the old thing. But he couldn’t help wondering about what could be inside. Those three grandchildren of hers seemed like decent sorts, so why hadn’t she just given them their inheritance—whether it was just a bunch of keepsakes or a bundle of cash—instead of making them quilt?
“She was a haunted soul,” Jackson said out loud as he carried his phone out to the porch and sat down in Uncle D. J.’s old wooden rocker with the wide arms. I could feel a kinship with her. I don’t know what she had faced in the past, but I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere until I came here. I’d only gone into the law business to please my brother and sister and my folks. I wish I had told Miz Lucy how much our visits had meant to me before she passed.
He was about to bring up the contact list on his phone and give his folks a call, like he always did early on Sunday morning, when the phone rang. He smiled when he saw his mother’s name pop up on the screen. “Good morning,” he answered cheerfully. “How are things in Bay City?”
“Great!” his mother said. “You are on speaker. Your dad is right here beside me. We’re ready for church, but it’s a little early to go that way. How are things in Blossom?”
“You ready to come back to work yet?” James’s deep southern voice asked.
“I work every day, Dad.” Jackson smiled.
“You know what I mean. You were a crackerjack lawyer.”
“And now I’m a crackerjack hope chest and furniture builder. I don’t have an ulcer, and I don’t have to take depression pills.” Jackson bit back a sigh.
“You never did have those things wrong with you.” His father’s tone was curt.
“No, but I was well on the way to having both.” Jackson had had this same conversation too many times to remember. “I’ve got neighbors now. Miz Lucy’s grandkids have moved into her house. Two women and a guy. It’s kind of nice knowing someone about my age is over there.”
“I guess it would be,” his mother, Linda, said. “You haven’t been around anyone but old people in five years. When are you coming home for a visit?”
“Maybe Christmas.” Jackson said the same thing he always did. That was when he would go back to South Texas, even though just a few days away from Blossom felt like years. Until then he was busy with his business. “But my door is open anytime y’all want to get away for a weekend and come to Blossom.”
“We just might do that,” Linda said.
Jackson wasn’t about to hold his breath. His face wouldn’t look good in that shade of blue. He smiled at the old adage he’d heard both Uncle D. J. and Miz Lucy say many times when they knew some event wouldn’t happen or someone wouldn’t come through with a promise.
“Let me know a day ahead of time, and I’ll thaw some T-bones and grill them for you,” he said.
“Will do,” James answered, “and you know you’ve got a place in the firm anytime you get tired of messing around in that little Podunk town. Right now, it’s time for your mother and me to go to church.”
“Y’all have a good day,” Jackson said.
“You too.” This from his mother.
“And that ends the Sunday phone call,” he said as he shoved the phone back into his shirt pocket.
Tex came around the side of the house and plopped down beside him. Tongue hanging out and panting, the dog laid his head on Jackson’s knee.
“Been out for an early-morning run?” Jackson heaved a sigh of relief that the weekly phone call was over. “Your feet are wet. I bet you made a side trip by the creek, didn’t you? We belong right here in our little part of Blossom, Texas, don’t we?” He rubbed the dog’s ears. “Maybe if my brother and sister hadn’t been teenagers when I was born, things would be different, or if I hadn’t overheard my folks talking about me being an ‘oops baby’ to their friends, I would have felt like I belonged in their world. But that’s all water under the bridge. I tried to make them happy, but I was miserable.”
The dog jumped up, almost in a hunting-dog point at the side of the house. The hair on his back stood straight up, and he growled deep down in his throat.
“What is it, old boy?” Jackson asked.
Nessa peeked around the corner of the house. “Does he bite?”
“No, he’s all bluff,” Jackson answered. “Come on around and meet him. Once he gets to know you, and that takes about two minutes, you’ll have a friend forever. I might warn you, though, he doesn’t like Waylon, so if he comes visiting over at your place, don’t let him in the house. I tried that when I first brought the cat over here, and it did not end well. When the fur stopped flying, Tex had a scratched nose, and Waylon had a bloody ear.”
Jackson laid a hand on the dog’s neck. “Tex, this is Nessa. She’s kin to Miz Lucy. Remember her? She saved soup bones for you. Nessa might do the same if you’re nice to her.”
Tex began to wag his tail and slowly made his way off the porch. He raised a paw when Nessa was a foot away. She stooped slightly and shook with him. “Pleased to meet you, Tex. And yes, I will save you a bone the next time I make a ham.”
Nessa could have sworn that the big yellow dog actually smiled at her.
“Want a cup of coffee?” Jackson asked. “I made a whole pot.”
“I’d love one.” Nessa nodded. “When I was a little girl, it seemed like a lot farther between our house and this one, but in those days, I didn’t notice how rough the roads were to either of our places.”
Jackson stood up and motioned toward the swing on the other end of the porch. “County don’t pay a lot of attention to roads that only go back to two houses, but every now and then they bring out a load of gravel and smooth it out a little. Come on up and have a seat. I’ll bring out the coffee. Unless you want to come inside?”
“This is fine.” Nessa crossed the porch and sat down on the end of the swing. “It’s going to get hot this afternoon, so we might as well enjoy the cool morning while we can.”
“My thinking exactly.” Jackson whistled as he went inside.
In a couple of minutes, he poked his head out the door. “Sugar or cream or both?”
“Just black,” she answered.
Another minute passed, and he pushed through the old wooden screen door and carried two big mugs of coffee outside. He handed one off to her and then sat down on the other end of the swing.
“Thank you. So you’ve been living here five years? Ever wish you were back in the city?” Nessa asked.
“Not one time,” Jackson answered. “The peace and quiet out here kind of grows on you. After you’ve been here a few weeks, go on back to the city for a visit and see how discontented you’ll be.”