lot of work to do before then. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get it all done on her timeline. But I don’t voice my concern. I let them have their moment. I’m sure Myer and I can wrangle a few extra hands to help make it happen on time.
“Are you two hungry?” Charlotte asks.
“Starving,” Payne answers.
“Dottie has a feast waiting for us up at the big house. She said to come and get it as soon as you guys were done,” she informs us.
I grab my keys and head out toward my truck. Payne’s mother is a fantastic cook. It’s been a long, exhausting day, and I don’t have to be told twice to go eat.
I follow Payne and Charlotte to the farmhouse, and Dottie and Marvin are sitting on the steps, enjoying the evening.
“Workday finally done?” Marvin asks as we make our way up the path to their porch.
“Yeah, we’re calling it. We are all beat and starving,” Payne answers.
“Good. Your momma has been cooking all day,” he says as he stands and helps Dottie to her feet.
Payne kisses his mother and opens the door for her. We all follow them in, and my stomach lets out a loud growl when I catch the scent of cinnamon and vanilla.
I see a rack of un-iced cinnamon rolls on the counter, and I grab for one.
Dottie slaps my hand away. “Uh-uh. Those are for the carnival at the church tomorrow,” she scolds.
I give her my best sad eyes.
“Save it, son. I’ve been pouting all day, and she hasn’t let me so much as taste one,” Marvin gripes.
“You’ll all be able to eat your fill at the church,” she consoles.
She informed us a couple of days ago that Payne and I volunteered to help with setup and to run a few of the booths at the carnival. It’s part of their homecoming celebration. They raise money that funds school supplies and lunches for children in need of assistance over at the elementary school each academic year.
“What time are we supposed to be there again?” Payne asks.
“We’ll need you fellas to help set up before the service. Then, you can all join us for the service. The picnic and carnival will immediately follow.”
“That means, we’ll have to get up even earlier to do the feedings in the morning,” Marvin tells Payne.
“Great,” he mutters on a yawn.
“I’ll get up and help you guys. The three of us should be able to knock it out fast,” I offer.
“You don’t have to do that, Foster. You’ve already been working yourself to the bone on the mill after work all week. We can’t ask you for more,” Payne says.
“You didn’t. I volunteered. Your family has been good to me. Renting me the silo for pennies and feeding me practically every day,” I tell him.
“You don’t owe us for that, silly. You’re like family,” Dottie assures me.
“And you’re like mine, and that’s what family does, they pitch in when needed,” I insist.
“That’s settled, then. We can all sleep till normal time. Now, let’s eat. We’ll need our strength. I’m sure the ladies are going to have us working our butts off tomorrow—for the Lord, of course,” Marvin says.
Sonia
I wake up early Sunday morning and dress quickly in a simple cotton dress with a sweetheart neckline and tapered waist. I weave my hair into a side braid and slip on a pair of brown ballet flats since I’ll likely be standing most of the day.
Being as it’s one of the rare occasions that Walker will be gracing the church’s doors, he is picking his mother up this morning. It’s a service I usually do for him. It’s not part of my job description as a home health care nurse, but Walker is a friend, and Edith is a sweetheart, so I spend a little more time with her than I do my other patients.
I pour myself a travel mug of coffee and just get a splash of milk added when I hear the horn coming from outside.
I hurry down the steps with my mug in hand and out to my stepdad’s waiting SUV.
“Don’t you look as pretty as a picture,” Don says as I slide into the backseat.
“Thank you.”
Momma looks back at me and frowns. “Why didn’t you wear your hair down?” she asks.
“I figured it’d be easier in a braid if we are going to be out in the breeze all afternoon,” I explain.
“I like it better down,” she gripes.
“You see it down all the time,” I respond.
She