Page 9 of Jack of All Trades
"Nothing," I say quickly. "Just... you're good at this. Planning."
She shrugs, but I can tell she's pleased by the compliment. "I like organizing things. Making sure everything is in its place."
"Control freak?" I tease gently.
"Realist," she counters. "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."
"Trust issues. Got it."
She shoots me a glare that lacks real heat. "I trust plenty of people."
"Name three who aren't Rex."
Maya opens her mouth, then closes it again. "That's not fair. I just moved to Seattle last year. I haven't had time to—" Shestops abruptly. "We're supposed to be planning a party, not psychoanalyzing me."
I raise my hands in surrender. "You're right. Sorry."
We work in silence for a few minutes, sorting through decorations. Finally, Maya speaks again, her voice softer than before.
"My roommate, Jess. My boss at the daycare, Ellen. And..." she pauses, "my neighbor, Mrs. Patel, who waters my plants when I'm gone."
It takes me a second to realize she's answering my question. Naming people she trusts.
"That's three," I say with a smile.
"Happy now?"
"Ecstatic." I pull out a banner that reads 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' in faded letters. "Think this will work?"
Maya takes it, examining the slightly worn edges. "It's perfect. Very retro."
"Mom never threw anything away if it could still be used," I explain. "Said it was wasteful."
"She sounds sensible."
"She was." I close the box, suddenly aware of the lump in my throat. "The most practical woman I've ever known. Had to be, raising four boys on her own."
Maya's expression softens. "Rex said she was kind to him. That she always made sure he had enough to eat when he came over."
"That was Mom," I say, swallowing hard. "She had a sixth sense about which kids needed extra attention, extra food. Said she could spot a hungry child a mile away."
"When did she pass?" Maya asks gently.
"Five years ago. Cancer." I put the box back on the shelf, needing the moment to compose myself. "It was quick, at least. She didn't suffer long."
When I turn back, Maya is closer than I expected, her green eyes full of compassion I hadn't seen before.
"I'm sorry," she says simply.
"Thanks." I clear my throat. "What about your mom? Rex doesn't talk about her much."
Maya's expression clouds. "She left when I was four. Decided motherhood and small-town life weren't for her, I guess. I barely remember her."
"That's rough." I resist the urge to reach out, to offer some physical comfort. Maya doesn't strike me as someone who welcomes casual touch. "Rex did a good job with you, though. You turned out okay."
She smiles slightly. "Just okay?"
"Well, you're planning a surprise party for your brother and putting up with me to do it, so I'd say that puts you solidly in the 'decent human' category."
