Stepping to a New Day (14 page)

Genevieve and Marie were in Marie's kitchen preparing to sit down to dinner. When her phone sounded and she saw TC's name on the caller ID, her brow furrowed.

“What's the matter?” Marie asked. “Please don't tell me it's Riley.”

“It isn't.”

“Then who?”

“Terence.”

“Who?”

“Morgan Freeman.”

Marie's eyes lit with amusement. “Then maybe you should answer it.”

Gen picked up the phone. “Hey there,” she said tentatively.

“Hate to bother you but I'd like to talk to you about something. Can I swing by after dinner and pick you up?”

“Where are we going?”

“How about the place where we had lunch the other day? I got Ms. July's number from Gary so we have permission.”

Gen couldn't imagine what this might be about. “You aren't a serial killer, are you?”

He laughed. “No, ma'am.”

“Okay. I guess so.”

“Look, if you're uncomfortable . . .”

“No. I'm okay. How about six o clock?”

“Sounds good. See you then.” And the call ended.

Marie, who'd watched the whole thing, peered at Genevieve's face. “A date?”

“I don't think so, but I'm not sure. He wants to talk, but he didn't say what about.”

“Here?”

“No, at Tamar's picnic table by the creek.”

“Sounds like a date to me.”

“Hush,” Gen replied, amused.

“Well, if he is a serial killer he'll never make it off the property because you know Tamar will be watching from the window with her shotgun by her side.”

“I do.” And she wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the one hand she liked the idea of Tamar acting as security but on the other hand, did she really want Tamar watching them? What if he kissed her? Immediately putting that out of her mind, she decided the Tamar factor didn't matter. What he wanted to discuss was more pertinent and she had to admit she was intrigued.

O
n his way over to pick up Genevieve, TC grappled with what he wanted to say. He'd always been a straightforward kind of guy, but for some reason he wasn't sure simply blurting out his need for her help was the right approach. He was also nervous about how she'd react. He couldn't see her looking down on him because of his problem, so in theory he had no grounds for worry, yet it nagged him just the same.

When he reached her house, he drew in a deep breath, walked up to the porch, and pressed the bell. A tall, thin woman wearing cat-eye-shaped glasses opened the door.

“Hi. I'm here to see Ms. Gibbs.”

“Come on in. She'll be down in a minute. I'm Marie Jefferson.”

“I'm TC Barbour. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here. Please, have a seat.”

He sat on the couch.

“Gen says you're Gary's uncle.”

“I am. His mother and my late wife were sisters.”

“I see. We all thought real highly of Gary's mother.”

He didn't know what to say to that so he simply nodded. When he heard footsteps on the stairs he stood. A second later Genevieve appeared wearing a soft gray turtleneck, jeans, and a smile that warmed him.

“Hello, Mr. Barbour.”

“Hi. I hope this isn't too much of an inconvenience.”

“No. Not at all.”

Her roommate watched silently.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Let me grab my jacket.”

She retrieved her leather from the closet and being a gentleman, he walked over to assist.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You're welcome.”

He saw approval in her roommate's eyes and said to her, “We shouldn't be gone too long.”

She nodded and they departed.

Outside, he opened the door of his truck so she could get in. “This is nice,” she said, checking it out.

“Thanks.”

After taking his seat on the driver's side, he confessed, “Not sure why I wanted to go to the July place. I could've just as easily talked to you in your living room.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“No. I like the peace there.”

“Then let's go to Tamar's, but I have to admit, I'm real curious about whatever this is.”

“Sorry for the drama. It's not really a big deal, but it kind of is.”

She had such a poker face he had no way of knowing what she was thinking, so he started the engine and drove off.

At the July place they parked and got out. The breeze blowing across the fields was crisp and bracing and the sun was making its way to the horizon. When they reached the picnic table, she sat but he stood with his back to her and gazed out at the slow-moving current in the creek.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked quietly.

He grabbed his courage. “I want to learn to read.” He let the words settle before turning to gauge her reaction. “Surprised?”

There was wonder in her eyes and then kindness. “I am. I'm pleased too, though. This couldn't have been easy.”

He turned back to the creek. “No.”

“Of course I'll help.”

“Thank you.”

Gen viewed the rigid set of his shoulders and back and wanted to smooth the tension somehow. His request could've knocked her over with a feather. Having worked with others with the same deficiency she sensed something else. “I don't think less of you, Terence.”

He smiled. “Worried about that.”

“No need to. I've been enjoying your company. This doesn't change that or who I perceive you to be.”

He appeared more relaxed. “Good to know.”

“When would you like to start?”

“Whenever you can fit me in.”

“If you can give me a day or so to get my new place set up we can begin the lessons as soon as you'd like.”

“That would be fine.”

“And if you prefer to keep this just between the two of us, we can. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

He nodded his thanks.

So for the next few minutes he talked about living with his lifelong problem, all the jobs he'd held and ultimately lost because of it, and the pledge he'd made to his wife.

“Do your children know?”

“Only Bethany. The boys don't.”

Gen's heart went out to him in much the same way it had with Mrs. Rivard, but there was an added component—the connection being with him had created. She wanted him to succeed. That he would trust her with his secret and have the courage to ask for her help only increased his standing in her eyes.

“Brought you something.” He reached into his coat and took out a small zip-locked bag and handed it to her.

“Cookies?” she asked, puzzled.

“Made them this morning. Thought you might like a couple.”

She laughed softly, “Never had a man bring me cookies before.” She opened the bag and took a bite of one. “Oh, these are good! Are you trying to butter up the tutor?”

“Figured a bribe might help me pass.”

“You are something, Mr. Terence Barbour.”

“You're pretty fabulous yourself, Ms. Genevieve Gibbs.”

Genevieve went all sparkly inside. “How about you call me Genevieve.”

“And you can call me TC or Terence.”

“I think I prefer Terence.”

“Then for you I'll be Terence.”

A voice rang out. “Getting dark, Mr. Barbour. Time to take her home.”

He froze and looked around.

Gen chuckled. “That's Tamar. She's probably been watching us since we got out of your truck.”

“I didn't know we had a chaperone.”

“She comes in handy now and again.”

“I'll remember that for next time.” He paused and said in a serious tone, “I want to thank you for making this easy.”

“You're welcome. And thanks for the cookies.”

“Anytime.”

“We should probably get moving before she fires a warning shot over our heads.”

“You're kidding, right?”

Genevieve got up from the table. “She loves that shotgun almost as much as she loves Olivia.”

“Who's that?”

“Her truck.”

His laughter rang out against the quiet. “Lord have mercy, this town.”

“No place like Henry Adams.”

They walked back. He handed her into the truck and drove her home.

When they got to Marie's he came around and helped her down. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

“What's on your plate for tomorrow?”

“Taking Doc Reg to the airport in the morning. You?”

“Going to spend the day waiting on my furniture to arrive and putting away all the housewarming gifts my friends got for me.”

“Sounds like fun. Okay. I'll walk you up.”

“That's not necessary.”

“Maybe if we were under twenty-five, but since we're not . . .”

Pleased by the show of chivalry, Gen surrendered and let him escort her to the door. When they reached it, she met his eyes. “Good night, Terence.”

“'Night, Teach.”

Chuckling at that, she went inside. She was hanging up her jacket when Marie came out of the kitchen.

“Well? What did he want?”

“It was personal.”

“Oh come on, Genevieve.”

“Would you want me spreading your business?”

“There aren't any secrets in this town. Please.”

Gen laughed. “True, but I'm not telling you.”

“He didn't ask you to marry him, did he?”

Gen rolled her eyes. “No, Marie. Not walking down the aisle.”

“He is kind of cute, though.”

“And he makes fabulous cookies. Want one?” Gen tossed her one.

Marie caught it deftly and took a bite. “Oh, these are good. Cute and can cook? If you don't want him, I'll take him off your hands.”

Genevieve laughed. “Going to my room now, Marie.” She started up the steps.

Marie called after her, “I'm just saying.”

Upstairs, Gen plopped down on the bed. She was still bowled over by both his request and courage. She'd do her best to honor the faith he'd placed in her. By the time they were done, he'd be able to conquer
War and Peace
if he wanted
to. She helped herself to another of his cookies. And yes, he was very cute.

TC walked back into the Clark house feeling pretty good. Genevieve had been incredibly kind. He wanted to do something nice for her and he knew just the ticket. Gary was working late so he climbed the stairs and knocked lightly on Leah's door.

“Come on in.” When she looked up from her computer screen and saw him, she said, “Hey Unc, did you talk to Ms. Gen?”

“I did.” After dinner, he'd told her and Tiff where he was going but not why.

“You look pretty happy,” Leah pointed out.

“I am. She's going to help me with something so I want to get her a housewarming gift.”

“Like what?”

“Not sure, but she likes music.”

“You could get her an iTunes gift card.”

He thought about that but decided no. “I'd like it to be more personal—maybe a CD.”

“Then you should try Amazon. Do you have an account?”

“No.”

“I do. I can order it and you can pay Dad. My account is tied to his.”

“Okay.”

He watched her close out whatever she was working on and begin typing and clicking. He walked over to get a closer look. He couldn't read a word but was confident that in a few months he'd be able to type and click to his heart's content.

Tiff walked in. “What are you doing?”

“Unc wants to get Ms. Gen a housewarming gift. Maybe a CD.”

Tiff came over and stood next to him.

“Did you get your laundry done, Lil Bit?” He'd introduced them to the washer and dryer a few days ago.

She nodded. “It's in the dryer. It's kind of nice not having to wait for Daddy to wash my stuff. Now I can wear my favorite jeans whenever I want. Thanks for teaching me.”

“You're welcome.”

Leah said, “Okay, we're at Amazon. Who are we looking for?”

“Wes Montgomery.”

“Who?”

He rolled his eyes. “Greatest jazz guitarist to ever pick up an ax.”

“If you say so.”

He told her, “I still haven't had a chance to get my reading glasses replaced so help your old uncle out and read me some of those album titles.” TC felt bad about lying to them again but decided once his lessons began he might tell them the truth. Knowing what great girls they were they might even want to help. But for now . . .

In the end, with the girls' help he found the CD he wanted and Leah closed out the purchase. “It'll be here maybe tomorrow. For sure the day after.”

“Good.”

Tiff said, “And you need gold paper to wrap it in.”

TC was confused. “Why?”

“That's Ms. Gen's favorite color.”

TC couldn't believe he was in a place where the people were so connected they knew each other's favorite colors. “Then gold it is. Thanks, ladies.”

Later, TC was seated on the couch in the living room and watching the NBA when Gary came home from work. “Hey, Gary.”

“Hey there, TC,” he replied. He set down the soft-sided case that held his laptop and papers and tossed his coat over the chair. “Who's playing?”

“Golden State and Cleveland.”

“Ah. Curry versus King James.”

“Yeah, and Curry is lighting it up already. How'd your day go?” He pumped a fist as Curry sank another three.

“No complaints. Busted a couple of shoplifters. Argued with a supplier who tried to palm off a truckload of dead lettuce as fresh—the usual.” He sat and eyed the game. “How was your day?”

“No complaints here, either. Took Trent to the airport. Asked Genevieve to teach me to read.”

Gary sat up. “Wait. What did you say?”

TC smiled. “I asked Genevieve to teach me to read.”

“What do you mean you asked her to teach you to read?”

“I can't read.”

Gary seemed to finally get it. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You can't read? Since when?”

“Since forever.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

Gary fell back against the chair. “Wow.”

“I'm what you call a functional illiterate. Have been all my
life but being around Genevieve finally gave me the courage to do something about it.”

Gary still looked stunned and appeared to have questions but didn't quite know what to ask, so TC helped him. “Hard to wrap your brain around it, isn't it?”

“Yeah. You're over sixty. How have you been able to get by?”

So TC took a few minutes to explain some of the techniques and strategies people like him used to make a way out of no way.

When he was done, Gary better understood and asked, “How can I help?”

“Not sure yet. I'll start lessons soon. Genevieve wants to wait until she gets settled into her new place.”

“Are you going to tell the girls? I know they'd be supportive.”

“Pretty sure I'll tell them at some point but not sure when. Wanted to let you know first.”

“Okay. We're here for you.”

“Thanks.” It felt good having let Gary in on his plans and to have his support.

“And speaking of thanks, you've been a huge help to us. My stress level is way down. The girls are thriving. Tiff seems more sure of herself and I attribute that to you. Thanks,” he said sincerely.

“You're welcome. I'm having fun.”

“I'm glad you and Ms. Gen are hooking up. She's a great lady.”

“Yes, she is.”

Gary must have heard something in his tone because he
leaned forward and peered into TC's face. “Something else I need to know?”

“Nope.”

Gary smiled. “Okay, Uncle Terence, be that way.”

“Chili's in the Crock-Pot. Get yourself something to eat.”