“Well, let’s get you fed, and then Noah can help you get things up to your room. I want to know everything about the people who raised you,” Miss Janie said as she shuffled back down the wide hallway to the kitchen. “What do you want? Noah is right good at making breakfast.”
“Whose plate is that?” Teresa pointed to a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns.
“That would be what Miss Janie didn’t want this morning,” Noah explained.
“I’ll heat it up in the microwave and have that,” Teresa said. “No use in wasting food.”
Miss Janie sat down at the table and frowned. “Young man, who are you? Are you the one I hired to bring Teresa to me, or are you her husband?”
“I’m Noah, your nephew,” he said. “Luther’s grandson.”
“That’s right.” Miss Janie touched her forehead with her fingertip. “Teresa, darlin’ girl, you will have to overlook my forgetfulness. Sometimes I can’t remember too well, but I remember the day you two were born very well.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about that day.” Teresa bit back tears. She worked with Alzheimer’s patients in the nursing home, but seeing Miss Janie like this was tougher than she’d expected it to be. Poor soul thought that she’d birthed Teresa and Kayla, and on the same day, which would make them twins. Teresa remembered the day when Social Services came to the trailer to take her out of her school in Sulphur Springs to a group home up near Paris, Texas. When Miss Janie had heard what happened, she had stepped in and applied right then for an emergency foster care license and had taken Teresa out of the group home and to Birthright with her that very night.
“I will,” Miss Janie agreed. “Leaving my sweet babies in that home was the saddest day of my life.”
The microwave dinged, and Miss Janie started to stand up. “It’s time for me and Greta to go to class now. The bell has rung, and our teachers get upset if we’re late.”
Noah laid a hand on her arm. “Today is Saturday. You don’t go to class today.”
“That’s right.” Miss Janie settled back down as Teresa retrieved her food from the microwave and started eating.
“Tell us more about that day you gave the babies away.” Noah took a seat at the other end of the table.
“What day?” Miss Janie’s gray brows drew down into a heavy line. “Noah, who is this woman? I told you not to hire someone to take care of me. I’ve been doing all right on my own since I was sixteen and Mama and Daddy put me here.”
“This is Teresa. She’s one of your girls that you wanted me to bring home,” he said.
“My girls aren’t grown women,” she argued. “You were going to find both of them. Where’s the other one?” She frowned.
“That was sixty years ago, Miss Janie. You took in Teresa and Kayla when you retired. You became a foster parent to help Teresa and then Kayla,” Noah said. “Your babies would be sixty now, not twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”
She shook her head. “Don’t you try to fool me. I gave birth a few days ago. I still hurt from it. Where’s Aunt Ruthie? She’ll tell you that I’m right.”
The poor old girl really was confused. She had never married nor had children. “I’m so sorry that you hurt. What can I do to help you? I can ask about pain pills, or we can go sit somewhere where the chairs are softer.”
“You’ve had a lot of excitement yesterday and today,” Noah said. “Maybe you just need to rest a bit. It is past time for your little afternoon nap.”
“I am very tired,” she agreed. “And I’m still sore from the birth, but at least the milk has dried up. That was so painful, and so embarrassing the way it kept making my shirts all wet. Aunt Ruthie says it’ll get better in a couple of weeks. I wish I could hold my babies one more time. They were so little, and I wanted to keep them so bad.”
As she got up out of the chair, she held the bottom of her stomach and walked slightly bent over, like a woman who’d recently had a baby. Teresa laid her fork down and hurried to her side. “Let me help you.”
“Thank you.” Miss Janie smiled shyly. “I never realized how much having a baby would hurt, but I’d do it all over again