Reed, Anna, and Jesse stood on Dolly’s front porch with Joe Dolphus and the Hastings.
“I just can’t believe y’all are leaving,” Anna said.
“We think it’s for the best,” Evelyn said. “Dolly seems committed to selling the house. And if our rent money can’t change that, we feel we would be contributing to her stress by staying. Since the university called, we should probably go—so many soldiers are beginning to come home and enroll that there’s work again for stodgy academics like us.”
“My daughter’s been after me to come back now that the grandkids are gettin’ big enough to take fishin’,” Joe said. “And I think the less Dolly has to worry about right now, the better. But I want y’all to promise me that if things change, and there’s anything at all I can do to help save this house, you’ll get on that phone and call me collect. Day or night. It don’t matter. I’ll do anything in the world for her and Si.”
“The same goes for us,” Harry said.
Anna looked as if she were barely holding herself together as she hugged them all. Reed and Jesse helped carry their luggage and load it. Everybody waved goodbye one last time before Joe and the Hastings drove away. As Reed and Jesse came back on the porch, Anna burst into tears and ran inside the house.
“You better go see to that,” Reed said. “I’ll check on Dolly.” He went inside to Si and Dolly’s bedroom and quietly tapped on the door.
Dolly opened it and smiled. “Come on in, honey.”
He kissed her on the cheek before they sat down in two rockers next to the bed. “How is he this mornin’?”
“Pretty good. He’s restin’ mostly. Stirs around a little bit but not too much. I’m just so thankful you’re here, Reed. I don’t think I could give him those shots.”
“Glad I can help. When’s Dr. Sesser comin’ back?”
“Tomorrow. I don’t know how he finds the time with ever’body else he’s tendin’ to, but I’m mighty glad to see him when he walks through that door.”
They sat quietly together before she said, “Reed, don’t you never put nothin’ material ahead o’ the people you love.”
“Is that what you think you did, Miss Dolly?”
“I know it’s what I did—lettin’ Si work hisself to death ’cause I thought I couldn’t live without this ol’ house. And now look at him a-layin’ there with his heart so weak. What good is this house without him in it?”
“But you didn’t want the house for any material reason—not for a possession. You wanted it because it’s part o’ your family. It’s how you remember ’em. You ain’t got a selfish bone in your body, Miss Dolly.”
She patted his hand and dabbed at her eyes with her embroidered handkerchief. “I sure hope you’re right, honey.”
“He’s absolutely right.”
They were startled to see Si awake and smiling at them.
“Oh, Si, how do you feel?” Dolly jumped up to lay her hand on his forehead.
His breathing was slow and labored. “Fine . . . And you?”
She shook her head. “Si Chandler, don’t you dare die on me.”
He reached for her hand and held it. “Doin’ my best, Dolly, m’dear.” He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
Dolly sat back down next to Reed. “It’s strange how we get attached to places like they were people,” she said. “I guess they take on part o’ us, and we take on part o’ them, and before you know it, ain’t neither one of us quite whole without the other. That’s how come Little Mama’s house has always been so dear to me. I just breathe a little different in these big ol’ rooms. You got a place like that, Reed—a place where you breathe a little different?”
He smiled and nodded. “The Tanyard. And Hick’ry Mountain. I guess my special places are all outside. But if there’s ever been a house that meant anything to me, it was this one. I understand why you love it so much, Miss Dolly.”
“You were a little bitty thing—prob’ly not more’n five years old—when we lost our Samuel. Nothin’s more heartbreakin’ than rockin’ a sick child no medicine can help. This house is my last connection to my boy, Reed. It’s the last place he ever was, before the cemetery, and to tell you the truth, sometimes I can’t find the strength to follow that path to his little grave. But every now and again, I can feel him in these ol’ walls—maybe in the flutterin’ of a curtain or the echo o’ footsteps on old wood. Don’t get me wrong—I don’t believe my sweet boy’s hauntin’ this house. I believe he’s with the Lord. But maybe he got to leave behind just enough o’ his little self to comfort his mama. You reckon that’s possible?” Dolly dabbed at her eyes again.
“When it comes to you, Miss Dolly, I believe the Lord makes all kinda special allowances.”
“Oh, honey, I’m just plain ol’ me.”
“Miss Dolly . . . I know how upset you are right now, and I know you’re blamin’ yourself and the house for what happened to Si . . . but it’s not your fault. And it’s not the house’s fault. It just happened. I sure wish you’d think it over before you give up on payin’ those property taxes. Me and Jesse—we’ll help however we can. So will Joe and the Hastings.”
“I ’preciate that, honey, but no. You and Jesse are young men. I know you’ve been through a lot, and it’s made you both older’n your years, but you’re still just gettin’ started in life. You got to be thinkin’ about your future. It’s a mighty special house, Reed. But it’s not my life. That’s my life layin’ there in that bed.”
They rocked silently together for a moment before she said, “I’ll tell you somethin’ you can do for me.”
“Anything.”
Dolly winked at him. “Go on and give Daisy a ring so Little Mama’s house can see one more weddin’ before we have to let her go.”