I hear the sound of harps and flutes, and I watch for a second as she swings her arms side to side and twirls, kicking her leg straight out behind her.
“Angelina Ballerina?” I step up to where Noel is spooning batter into the hot pan.
“It’s a cartoon. A dancing mouse.” She passes me the bowl and takes a step back, putting her hand on her hip. “She calls you Taron?”
“I didn’t know what to tell her. Mr. sounds wrong, and I thought it was probably too soon for her to call me—”
“It’s too soon.” Noel’s voice is short, but she seems more protective than angry.
I watch the batter frying in the pan as I think about what I want to say. I think about last night and how standing next to her right now, making breakfast like we used to pricks a longing so deep, I’ve got to fight pulling her against my chest.
I want my family.
“I kept track of you while I was in Nashville.” I give her a smile. “Your business really took off.”
“So you’re a stalker?” Amber eyes cut up at me, and I shrug, flipping the four cakes quickly.
“Did you ever stalk me?”
“No.” She answers fast, then adds quietly. “I didn’t dare.”
/> Another slice of pain. I give the four cakes a beat longer before scooping them onto a plate. Setting the bowl aside, I face her straight on.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Noel.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I don’t want to fight with you either. That’s not why I came back.”
She pours the scrambled egg mixture into the large skillet and as it starts to bubble, she looks up at me. “Why did you come back?”
For you… We’re interrupted by Sawyer and Leon entering the room. “Smells good in here.” Sawyer reaches out to clasp my hand before going to the table.
Leon doesn’t even look at me. He takes down five plates and goes to the table, putting one at each seat.
They’re both wearing blazers and khaki slacks. “What’s the occasion?” I step over to where Sawyer’s pouring coffee from a carafe.
“Church.” Noel steps past me putting the bowl of eggs and the plate of hoecakes on the table. “Dove, come eat breakfast.”
Church? Reading my face, Sawyer answers my silent question. “We’ve been going more regular since Dove came along.”
“Dove, breakfast.” Noel opens a drawer and pulls out forks and knives then glances up at me. “You don’t have to go.”
“No, I’m glad to go, I just…” I look down at the jeans and long-sleeved Henley I’m wearing. “I need to change clothes.”
Be the fountain and not the drain is out on the sign in front of the small, brick building. I have no idea what that means, but I guess I’ll find out.
Inside, I’m surprised to see so many faces I recognize. Noel takes Dove to another part of the building where she says she’s going to Sunday school. Sawyer steps over to talk to a man I’m pretty sure is Ed Daniels, and Leon leaves us to sit with a pretty girl I don’t know. I wonder whatever happened to Betsy.
“My goodness, is this Taron?” A wobbly voice draws my attention, and I look down to see a birdlike old woman with thin gray hair styled in a little bun at the nape of her neck.
She’s neatly dressed in a smock that has little flowers all over it. It’s been a long, long time, but I recognize her at once.
“Miss Jessica?” Taking her outstretched hand, I carefully hug her fragile body, and she laughs.
“You have a good memory.”
I remember everything about those days, even her smiling face appearing on my phone during one of my many calls. “I couldn’t forget you.”