Authors: Jeanne Skartsiaris
“But that was there before,” Janie joked.
“How is Mrs. Poston?” Aja asked, filling the water pitchers with ice.
“Mean as ever.”
“Good.” Aja laughed. “The world feels right again.” She started out toward the dining hall with the water.
“No, wait.” Janie called her back. “Let me do that. You start making the coffee and get the soup bowls ready.”
“Wow, first day back and I already got a promotion,” Aja said.
“Don’t let it go to your stitched head yet.” Janie took the pitchers from Aja. “Just hang out in here until everybody gets seated.”
“And stay out of trouble?” Aja asked wryly.
Aja heard the dining hall fill with guests. She started out the door with the juice service, but Gabe yelled for her to help him with the mush-loaf plates.
“Yuck,” Aja said, slipping plates of the brown glop into a warming oven. “This looks disgusting.”
“Tastes good,” Gabe said gruffly.
Janie came in. “Aja, would you come here?”
“Should I bring the salad plates?” Aja asked.
“Not yet, just bring yourself.”
Aja wiped her hands on a towel and followed Janie out to the dining room.
“Surprise!” All the residents stood next to a big chocolate cake that said:
Congratulations, Aja! Welcome Back
in wispy cursive of yellow frosting. Bunches of balloons floated from each table.
Dr. Landers strode away from the group and took Aja’s hands. “We’re all glad to have you back.”
Aja was speechless, could barely mutter, “Thank you,” as she scanned the faces in the crowd. Mrs. Burnett was there, beaming. Aja’s mom and Walker stood next to Lauren Jensen, and with them, in a wheelchair, was Mr. Jensen. An IV with milky fluid hung from a pole on the chair and snaked under his buttoned shirt.
“Princess Bride,” Mr. Jensen said, smiling.
Dr. Landers let go of Aja’s hands, and she went to greet everybody. “This is such a surprise. Thank you.”
Mrs. Burnett clapped her hands for attention and said to the crowd, “Aja has one of the highest GPAs in the school. She’s worked hard these past few months. Cheers!” No one had a glass but everybody applauded. Mrs. Burnett looked at Aja with affection. “I can’t stay too long I’ve got to run to graduation.”
Janie told the crowd, “Let’s eat so we can dig into the cake. You can take a piece with you Mrs. Burnett.”
Everybody took a seat, Aja and Janie started serving, although Aja spent a lot of time visiting with and thanking everybody.
Aja spent a few minutes at the Jensen’s table. Her mom and Mrs. Burnett sat with them. “How are you feeling?” Aja asked Mr. Jensen.
“As good as an old man can.” Mr. Jensen winked. “Glad to be here.”
Lauren touched his arm. “If you get too tired, I’ll take you home. Don’t overdo it, Dad, you just got out today.”
“I’m fine, sweetie,” he said, then he motioned for Aja to come close so he could whisper to her, “Buttercup told me what happened. I’m glad she was there for you.”
“Me, too, Mr. Jensen. And I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“You’re a good girl,” he said quietly.
After dinner was finished, Aja and Janie served coffee. Aja was still sore, and her stitched head was aching. Gabe carried the big cake to the kitchen so he could cut it. Dr. Landers stood and called for everyone’s attention.
“Aja, for your graduation and for what you’ve done for Bea Poston and Steve Jensen, everyone here wanted to give you a graduation gift.” He produced an envelope from under his napkin. “Congratulations.”
“You all didn’t need to get me anything,” Aja said.
Dr. Landers handed her the card. She opened it and was shocked to see a bunch of money. Everything from one-dollar bills to twenties. “Wow, thank you all so much!” Tears filled her eyes.
“We know you’ve been saving for school,” Dr. Landers said. “And I understand you’ll need a car, too. I hope that helps.”
“It will, sir. Thank you.” Aja felt overwhelmed.
Mrs. Burnett walked up and handed Aja a card. “This is from me.”
“Thank you.” Aja opened the card, which had shooting starts on it and said,
Follow your dreams
.
“I will, Mrs. Burnett,” Aja said as two twenty-dollar bills floated to the ground from the card. “Oh, wow.”
“You were the best forty dollar investment I’ve ever made.” Mrs. Burnett winked.
A weak, raspy, but unmistakable voice screeched over the others. “So, China girl, you finally got out of school. Wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“Hi, Mrs. Poston.”
“Oh, I knew she’d graduate. She think she’s the smartest bitch ever.”
“Tish?” Aja was shocked to see her juvie cellmate in light purple scrubs pushing Mrs. Poston’s wheelchair. She wore a long-sleeved T-shirt under the top, no doubt to cover her scarred arms.
“Yeah, I got me a new job thanks to Mrs. Burnett.”
“One where you’ll get your mouth washed out with soap if you don’t stop using vulgar language,” Mrs. Poston admonished.
“Well, if you weren’t such a bossy-pants all the time,” Tish gave it back to her.
“Someone has to teach you young women manners. Push me to that table,” Mrs. Poston ordered, pointing to the Jensens.
“Push me to that table,
please
,” Tish mocked. “It’s a two-way street, being polite and all.”
“Don’t quibble with me,” Mrs. Poston said, waving her hand. “Janie, I’d like some soup, please.” With the emphasis on ‘please.’
“I’ll run and git you some water,” Tish said, after pushing Mrs. Poston to the table. “And I’ll try not to quibble any on the floor.”
“Yes, please do. And quibble means to argue, not spill,” Mrs. Poston said, shaking her head. “So much to learn.”
Tish got Mrs. Poston water and then found Aja.
“I’m going to apply to be a M.A.,” Tish said proudly. “A Medical Assistant. They have a program that I can get into when I get my GED.”
“That’s great, Tish,” Aja said. “I know you’ll do well. Especially if you can handle Mrs. Poston.”
“She don’t scare me. Her bark’s worse’n her bite.”
“Tish, don’t be lallygagging and get back to work.” Mrs. Poston snapped her spidery fingers. “And, China girl, come visit with me after work.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Aja couldn’t believe how all the planets had aligned. Tish working for Mrs. Poston, Aja back with the old folks who at first she thought were gross and now felt a real affection for, and Walker who seemed to watch her every move as she went from table to table.
Chapter 49
Later that night, Aja sat on her bed re-reading what the residents had written on her card. She’d counted the money, which totaled just over two hundred dollars. She was floored. After work, she’d visited Mrs. Poston, who, in her own gruff way, thanked Aja for checking on her.
“I can’t believe no one came to my rescue sooner,” Mrs. Poston told Aja. “I pay too much money here not to have someone come by to see if I’m okay. What happened to good customer service?”
Aja also noticed her attendant light had been re-activated.
“Here, this is for you.” Mrs. Poston handed Aja a small box with a card. “Now go on. I’m too tired to watch you open it here, and my new assistant has to help me get ready for bed. She’s too expensive to keep another minute longer.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m rolling in the dough.” Tish stood behind Mrs. Poston’s chair. “Let’s get you off to bed so I don’t have to hear you order me around anymore.”
“Impertinence,” Mrs. Poston muttered as Tish wheeled her to her bedroom.
“What you call me?” Tish huffed.
“Look it up in the dictionary.”
Before Aja left the apartment, Tish turned to her and said, “Thanks for dealing with the devil. All the bitc—” She stopped and glanced at Mrs. Poston. “—the
girls
from juvie are glad. We gonna nail his ass.”
“Young lady, see that bar of soap? That will be your dinner if you don’t clean up your mouth,” Mrs. Poston griped. She looked at Aja. “Why are you still here?”
“Just leaving. Thanks, Mrs. Poston.”
“Oh, China girl, I almost forgot.” Mrs. Poston reached into the front pocket of her crisp button-down shirt. “This is yours.” She handed Aja the silver guardian angel medallion Aja had given her on the way to the hospital.
“You keep it,” Aja said.
Mrs. Poston nodded curtly, then carefully slipped it back in her pocket. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
On her bed, Aja carefully piled the stack of money and cards from the residents and reached for Mrs. Poston’s gift. She opened the box and was surprised to find the brooch that Kendall had taken. On a small piece of paper, in spidery, but impeccable penmanship, Mrs. Poston wrote, “
Thank you. You deserve this more than the other girl
.” Aja opened the card, where she found a check for two hundred and fifty dollars. Under “memo” Mrs. Poston had written:
college tuition
.
Aja couldn’t believe how her luck had changed. Fate had stepped in and righted the wrong. She heard a light knock on the front door. Even though Clay Richards was in jail, she still felt a small stab of fear. Her mom and Clara Wells had gone out for karaoke and wine.
Carefully, Aja walked to the door. The wooden dowel still leaned against the wall. “Who is it?”
“Walker.”
Aja looked through the peephole and saw Walker standing on the porch, holding two Starbucks cups.
“I brought lattes.”
Aja opened the door. “Hi.” Walker smiled, which always made Aja’s knees turn to Jell-o.
“Any chance there’s leftover coffee cake?” Walker asked, hope lacing his voice.
“There may be some crumbs on the floor, but that’s all that’s left.”
“Then maybe some tofu?” Walker stepped in and handed Aja a cup.
“That we have.”
They settled on opening a bag of kettle corn, then sprinkled it with dark chocolate chips as they relaxed on the couch.
“It’s so nice not to have any homework or”—Aja rolled her eyes—“drama.”
“The evening’s still young.” Walker tossed a kernel of popcorn in the air and caught it with his mouth. “So what are your plans?”
“Future or immediate?”
“Both.” Walker missed a toss, and the kernel landed in his hair. He grabbed it from his head and ate it.
“Gross.” Aja laughed.
“So, are you planning on a community college education or will you use your GPA and go to Harvard?” He smiled and cocked his head, which reminded Aja of a cute puppy. She was tempted to pick him up and hold him.
She demurred and said, “I’m going to take some basics this summer at the community college here. Then I hope to go to California.”
“Alone?”
Aja shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. I think mom’s pretty happy here for now.” She sipped her cooling latte and leaned back.
“Maybe I’ll join you in California.”
“We could take long walks on the beach, and go to the library together.” Aja giggled. “You could try to keep me out of trouble.”
“Now, that would be a challenge.” Walker sat up. “Is this a psychic vision, you and me on the beach?”
Aja shook her head. “No, just a daydream.”
Chapter 50
Clay Richards’s pre-trial hearing lasted two days. He had his own character witnesses, who spoke of his dedicated years on the police force as well as his military service. But there were many more witnesses, young women, who had been victimized by him. Most he’d had committed to juvenile detention and made them feel like it was their fault. The most damning witnesses were Julia and Tish. He’d repeatedly hurt and threatened them for years.
Ms. Lewis took the stand and said how difficult it had been for her to accept blame for allowing so much abuse to happen. “I trusted him and thought the girls were lying.” Aja felt uncomfortable seeing this formidable woman sobbing on the witness stand for “being so blind.”
Ms. Lewis and Julia were mending their relationship, slowly. Julia was like a puppy that had been beaten too many times. She wanted to be loved but cringed when a palm was raised, not knowing if it was going to hit her or hold her. She reminded Aja of the little girl who’d been slapped around at Abercrombie.
There was still fire in Clay Richards’s eyes, but it no longer scared Aja. She knew he was going to a place where he could no longer bother her.
Now in summer school, Aja took her books to work every night and tried to study when she could. It was nice having so many residents who enjoyed helping her with homework. She found more resources in the people who had lived some of the history she studied.
Aja poured water in the dining room and greeted the guests as they sat down.
“China girl,” Mrs. Poston called from across from her table. She was still in a wheelchair a month after her accident, but according to Tish, was working extra hard at physical therapy so she could run after Tish with that bar of soap.
“Yes, Mrs. Poston.” Aja made her way to the table, ready to pour a cup of decaf.
“My coffee is cold.”