Two for Joy (2 page)

Now, other than the chickens, Tannie lives alone with her cat, Butt.

When we visit, Tannie’s rooster acts like he is the boss of me. I have to be careful around him. Once, I tried to pet him, and he bit my finger. It didn’t bleed, but it made me cry. The chickens are way nicer than that mean old rooster.

Tannie can make a chicken sound even better than a chicken:
“Bock-bock-bock-be-Gock! Bock-bock-bock-be-Gock!”

Tannie loves those chickens like they are her babies. Maybe that’s because she never had any babies of her own. I yawned. Actually, Butt is the biggest baby of all.

I yawned again and thought of how sweet Butt is to the chickens. Butt is so sweet, he even shows the rooster his tummy, and he never, ever lifts a paw to hurt the hens. Tannie says Butt is a pacifist — that means he loves peace.

Butt is the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. He’s orange and white, with the sweetest pink nose and dainty little feet for a tomcat. He prances around Tannie’s house, swishing his tail, always with his bottom high in the air — that’s how he got his name.

He’s also the smartest cat I’ve ever met. When Butt is thirsty for cool water, he takes Tannie’s finger in his mouth and pulls her to the sink. If Butt is hungry for a snack, he paws at the pantry. When it’s too hot outside for yard work, Butt makes Tannie go inside. Ever since Saint Louis died, Butt has been Tannie’s best friend.

I kicked the quilt away and dangled one foot off the bed. I wished I could blink twice and be at Tannie’s farm.

I tried counting sheep, but the sheep turned into clucking chickens . . . and then a crowing rooster.

I closed my eyes to find my Olympic dream again. Instead, I dreamed of Tannie’s fruit orchard, with strawberries in the spring, blueberries in the summer, and apples in the fall. I dreamed of how Tannie’s chickens always let me reach under their soft, warm feathers to take enough fresh eggs for breakfast.

Where else could there be, besides the farm, for Tannie and Butt?

T
hose dreamy chickens would have let me keep right on sleeping, but the high-whistling
weeeeeeeet
of Mom’s teakettle started calling for morning the way a rooster does while it’s dark. I flipped over to my right and eyeballed the clock by my bed. Six o’clock! Roosters and teapots should learn to sleep late.

I pulled the covers back over my head, but the smell of biscuits in the oven came slinking up the stairs.
SST! SST! SST!
the sound of bacon went popping through the hall. Floppy bacon is my favorite.

And that mockingbird was still carrying on in the holly tree. If Tannie were here, she would say, “That bird has worked herself into a tizzy!”

Then, quick as anything, I remembered about Tannie’s fragile bones. I hoped Tannie wasn’t in too much pain. Mom says whenever I’m worried, I should sing to my guardian angel. (Just what you’d expect from somebody named Grace.) While I dressed for school, I made up an angel song for Tannie:

Go fast to Tannie; don’t stop on the way,

Tell her I’m with her, all night and all day.

Help her get stronger, Give her hugs and good care.

My guardian angel, I want you to share

A hug and kiss right on her face.

Tell her it’s from us: Jenna and Grace.

When I finished my song, I blinked twice and sent my angel fast from our little yellow house in Virginia all the way to Tannie’s big white farmhouse in Mississippi.

Today Mom didn’t rush me or hurry me up. She didn’t count down from ten or say, “Jenna, hop-to! The school bus will be here in seven minutes!”

Mom sat down and drank her coffee, while I ate all of the floppy bacon she made and three entire jelly biscuits. I wished we had a big breakfast like this every day. On most school days, I have plain oatmeal.

I sang my angel song for Mom. But I did not sing with my mouth full. Mom started to cry. She wiped her eyes and said, “Teach your angel song to me, then we’ll sing it together!”

Mom and I sang my song over and over, until we heard the school bus come rumbling down our street.

Mom looked at her watch. “Jenna, we’re late.”

VROOM-VROOM-VROOM!
The living-room windows started to shake, the way they do when the bus rolls on past my stop.

“Gracious, we’ve missed the bus again.”

I wrapped an extra biscuit in a napkin for later in the day.

On the way to school, Mom surprised me. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I’d like you to think about it, too. Jenna, we’re all the family Tannie has left in the world. I’d like to ask Tannie to come live with us.”

With us?
I said to myself.
Awesome!
I thought.
Tannie and Butt will be with us all the time!

“With us?” I said out loud. “Sweet! Tannie’s coming to live with us!”

Mom kept right on talking. “I’ll call a realtor and Tannie’s doctor later this morning. We can take care of most everything next week on spring break. We’ll go to Tannie’s, instead of the beach, and bring Tannie back with us.” Mom giggled again. “Is that okay?”

I love the beach, but I love Tannie more. “I don’t mind, Mom. I’m worried about Tannie, too,” I said.

We pulled up to school. Mom kissed me good-bye and told me, “We’ll talk more at dinner. I love you, Jenna.”

I told Mom bye-bye and raced off to class.

All day at school, I thought about Tannie coming to live with us. I remembered the taste of Tannie’s buttery, sweet pound cake and hoped she would make it every day at our house. Then my teacher tapped my shoulder. “Jenna, are you with us? Pay attention, please.”

I thought about my math facts, but only for a second.

Would Tannie like to have a tiny garden in our tiny yard? We could plant tomatoes and okra, squash and peppers.

My teacher called my name again. “Jenna! Where are you today?” I sat up straight and tall. I know my math facts better than anything.

I hoped Tannie would bring Butt, because I’ve always wanted a cat.

At recess, I didn’t play soccer like usual. I stayed on the swings by myself and sang my angel song over and over. I wondered if my angel had made it to Tannie’s place yet. I swung so high that everyone on the ground looked smaller, but not as small as they would look from a plane. I pumped my legs to go even higher. I imagined what it would be like to swing all the way over the top. I bet Tannie did that once or twice.

The higher and higher I swung, the louder and louder I sang, until my teacher shouted, “Jenna, don’t swing so high! Come down!” I was so high up, I could barely hear her.

I did what she asked, but I didn’t stop thinking about Tannie and Butt coming to live with us.

M
om and I got busy planning. We only had one week to get ready.

Mom talked to Tannie’s doctor every single day, to be sure she had everything she needed to get better fast. We also called Tannie on the phone every morning and every night, just to check in and make sure she was fine.

Mom put the phone on speaker so we could all three talk together at once. I always got to talk first.

When I sang my angel song to Tannie, she said my angel had actually already been there, but Tannie still liked my hugs and kisses best of all.

Then Mom tried to talk Tannie into moving with us.

But Tannie wouldn’t agree. “We’ll see what the doctor says next week when you come visit me. Grace, stop making such a fuss.”

“I’m a nurse, Tannie,” Mom said. “This is what I do. I take care of people.”

Tannie told Mom she was making something out of nothing.

“When school is out next week, Aunt Britannia, we’re coming to get you. We’re going to bring you back with us. It’s time for us all to be together.” Mom added, “I won’t take no for an answer.” She hung up the phone and said to me, in a huff, “We’re going to get ready for her, even if she isn’t ready for us.”

Mom looked around the kitchen. “I need to make a ‘Tannie List’ of things to do to get ready.” She pulled a sheet of paper from the junk drawer.

I love making lists.

“I need to make a ‘Tannie List,’ too!” I said. “May I have a sheet of paper?” Mom handed me her paper and dug out an index card for herself.

Mom’s Tannie List:

My Tannie List: