Page 62 of The Party Line

“Can I come live in the basement?” he teased.

“No, but I might bring you a bottle for your hundredth birthday.”

“Then I guess I’m going to have to live a while longer,” he said with a big grin. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on that. Did I tell you about the time me and Gracie and Davis made wine?”

“You did.” I was suddenly worried about his memory. I could never put Jasper in a nursing home, but I wasn’t sure I could care for him if he had dementia.

“Well, remind me to tell you again sometime. I like to remember them days,” he said. “When I tell them stories, it’s like Gracie and Davis are still with me and we are having fun.”

“You haven’t told me,” Gina Lou said, “so I’ll remind you later.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jasper told her.

The next boxes we brought up were filled with clothing that seemed to be even older than the first three and in even worse condition. Jasper was still on his porch even though it was beginning to get dark.

“What’s in those?” he asked.

“Looks like stuff from long before Aunt Gracie was born. There’s long dresses with ruffles everywhere.”

“Her grandparents built this place back in the late 1800s. Clarence was born in that house, and so was Gracie. And they both died there,” he said with a long sigh. “It’s stood up to a lot of stuff, with arguing and lovin’ on the inside and bad weather on the outside.”

I stopped and said, “Tell me those stories.”

“That’s something for another day. Right now I’m going inside to watch my shows. Y’all don’t work too hard.” He stood up and disappeared into his house.

“So, is that it for this day?” Gina Lou asked.

“My muscles and body are telling me to go get into a nice warm bath,” I moaned. “So yes, this is it for today. And the car keys are hanging on a rack inside the back door if you want to take the SUV to church tomorrow morning. I plan to sleep late.”

She held the door open for me. “Don’t forget Jasper’s last dose of medicine for today.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” I made my way up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I adjusted the water in the tub and peeled out of my sweaty clothing. I poured in both bubble bath and salts and sank down into the warm water with a groan. Thank goodness tomorrow was Sunday.

“Why didn’t they just wait to start the work until Monday?”

I was half-asleep when a squeaky step about halfway up the stairs warned me that someone was on the way. Figuring it was Gina Lou, I adjusted the rolled-up towel at the back of my neck and closed my eyes.

“Lila, are you up here?”

The sound of Mama’s voice startled me so badly that my eyes popped wide open and I sat up. The towel at my neck fell over the back of the tub, and I couldn’t reach it even with my long arms.

“Mama?” Surely I was imagining things. She didn’t come into the house unless it was absolutely necessary. At best, she would make it into the kitchen, and even then she couldn’t wait to get back outside.After spending a while in the basement, I wasn’t so sure anymore that she wasn’t right.

She opened the door, peeked inside, and then came on into the bathroom. “What is this I hear about you going to be a strawberry farmer?” She picked up my towel from the ladder-back chair sitting beside the tub, laid it on the edge of the sink, and sat down.

“Who told you?” I sank down so that bubbles covered me all the way to my neck.

“I called to ask Jasper how he was feeling, and he said you pulled weeds all day and then came home and started cleaning out the basement so you’d have a place to store wine. What has gotten into you, girl? You’ve got a good education. If you think you need a job, you can find one at a bank or at a firm in San Antonio. The commute isn’t bad, and—”

I pulled a hand up out of the water in a gesture to shush her and then butted in before she could really get riled up on a rant. “Mama, you know I’ve never done a single impulsive thing in my life.”

“Except quitting your job on a whim to help me,” Mama said. “And don’t you shush me with an arm that looks like it’s been dipped in meringue. Your steadfastness is one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”

“I got that from you, Mama—and I can use my education to manage the estate that Aunt Gracie left me, but I’m not sure I want to spend every waking day behind a desk again. I’m tired tonight, but it’s a good tired. My muscles ache, and the sun probably produced another hundred freckles on my face. People can take me or leave me when it comes to my looks or my choice of jobs. I sweated off all my makeup, and the weeds didn’t care. Connor and the work crew were sweating as much as me, so they didn’t care, either.” I finally stopped for a breath.

She eyed me and set her mouth in that firm line she always did just before I got a heavy lecture about life. Then her whole expression changed, and she giggled. “I guess I did teach you to fight for what you want. But be honest with me: Is this because you are seriously thinkingof not renewing Everett’s lease in January or because you want to spend time with Connor?”

“Maybe some of both, but, Mama ...” I threw a handful of bubbles at her. “I feel free tonight, as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I figured out something today. You know those old black party line phones that are still in the house?”

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