“Cleanin’ ladies? Why would you need a cleanin’ lady? Your house is spotless.”

I shrugged. I really didn’t want to go into the morning’s events. “Maybe I should have sent them over to your house instead, since it’s so messy and all.”

He laughed but sounded a little uneasy. “Yeah…what do you want to eat?”

I unlocked the door and turned around to face him. “I really don’t have much food to cook.” I didn’t really see the purpose in making a grocery store run at this point.

He leaned on the side of the house, trapping me against the door. “Who needs food?”

I pushed against his chest, “You’re nothin’ but a big tease, Joe McAllister. You have no intention of givin’ me what I want.”

He kissed me and I silently cursed his ability to make me forget what I was arguing about.

“I’ll give you everythin’ you want and more… on Monday.”

“Argh!” I growled as I turned around and opened the door. “That still doesn’t solve our dinner dilemma.”

“We can order out and have it delivered. What sounds good?”

“Chinese,” I said the first thing that popped into my head. I’d never had Chinese food and it was on my list. Momma said she wouldn’t eat food made by communists.

He smiled, a real smile, not his usual teasing or taunting smirk. It made him look like a boy, the way his eyes sparkled. I smiled up at him like an idiot, lost in his eyes. They were a dark brown, but I could see little flicks of almost black scattered around his pupils. I realized he had asked me a question.

I cringed, giggling. “Sorry, I was caught up in the view.” My boldness amazed me, but at this point, I had nothing to lose.

He actually looked embarrassed and his cheeks turned red.

I laughed. Joe McAllister blushing. That was a sight I never expected to see. “Obviously, I didn’t hear your question.”

“Do you want to order it? I need to take a shower.” He stretched his arms out from his sides to emphasis his point.

The image of Joe in the shower popped into my head, which didn’t help anything. I shook my head to clear it. “Yeah, sure. I can order. What do you want?”

A slow smile spread across his face, but he answered, “Kung Pao Chicken.”

I repeated it in my head several times so I’d remember. “Go take your shower you big tease, then come back over.”

I walked into the kitchen, unsure what I’d find but it looked put together. Then I got out the phone book, which had seen a lot of action in the last couple of days. I had no idea what to order, but the restaurant had a menu printed in the phone book. I knew I liked beef and I liked broccoli, so beef and broccoli seemed like a safe bet. They said they’d deliver the order in thirty minutes.

I was still a bit damp from the afternoon, so I put on another pair of lingerie, the lavender set, and threw on a skirt and blouse. I checked my hair in the bathroom. It looked flat and lifeless, but I didn’t see the point of doing anything other than fluffing it a bit. I didn’t have on any makeup, not that I usually did, but I wanted to look good for Joe. I carefully put on some mascara, which I was still getting the hang of, and some blush.

Joe still hadn’t returned so I checked Momma’s room. All the photos and items were deposited back where they belonged. I grabbed a box and sat on the bed and pulled a photo off the top. It was a picture of the four of us at Violet’s graduation. Momma and Daddy flanked a beaming Violet, in her blue cap and gown. Momma’s stern face overshadowed Daddy’s, with his vacant eyes. I stood on Daddy’s right, staring off to the side. I remembered that day. I’d watched Uncle Earl, wishing I was with him instead of my own family. Hearing that Aunt Bessie had wanted to raise me was a surprise. I couldn’t help but think how differently my life would have turned out if that had happened. But to live with them would have meant leaving Violet. I was glad I stayed, in spite of all the pain.

I pulled out the next photo. They were all out of order now and this one was Violet and me, when we were little, standing in front of a Christmas tree. I didn’t remember that Christmas, but we looked to be about five and three, in our flannel pajamas and holding our baby dolls. We looked happy, ear to ear smiles on our faces. Why couldn’t I remember that? A happy time?

Tears filled my eyes again, as I pulled out the next photo. Daddy and me, in the backyard. He was kneeling, planting flowers. Six-year-old Rose looked happy but I saw something missing in my eyes. No wonder I didn’t have friends when I was little. I looked like a zombie.

I wore a pair of gloves and held a small garden shovel, ready to help Daddy. I studied his face, searching for any signs of regret. It was amazing how using a new filter to view your life could change your perception. I wondered how he could stand by and watch Momma do what she did for all those years. The tears fell down my cheeks. I was so tired of crying. I sniffed and wiped one cheek with the back of my hand, startled to see Joe standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He moved toward me and sat on the bed, wrapping an arm around my back. “I came in the kitchen and you weren’t there, so I decided to look for you. Why’re you cryin’?” He looked down at the photo. “Is that you?” He took the picture from my hand, getting a closer look. “And that must be your dad. I see the resemblance.”

For some reason that made me cry harder.