him. She didn’t need a crash course on how to deal with dementia. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job. I worked with patients like her in the nursing home,” Teresa said. “I know how to handle them.”
“Good,” he said.
“And while we’re at it, we should get my duties defined a little better than you did when you hired me,” she said. “Am I to do cleaning or cooking?”
“We have a housekeeper who comes in every other week. I’ve been doing the cooking, but if you want to do that, I won’t fight with you. However, your main job is to help me with Miss Janie. She’s so wobbly, I’m afraid that she’ll fall in the shower, and she’d be mortified if I saw her naked,” he answered.
“So would you,” she told him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed into slits.
“Think about it.” She took her plate to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Think how you’d feel if you had to give Miss Janie a bath. You’d be worse than mortified, and things would be awkward between y’all,” she told him. “I’m going up to my room to unpack. I can carry my own boxes. I don’t need your help.”
“All right then, do it on your own, but you don’t have to be afraid I’ll kiss you again,” he smarted off.
“If you did, you’d be pushing up daisies. I’m not that same little backwoods girls with no confidence. Oh, and unless I’m really busy, I’ll do the cooking. If what you make is like this coffee, it won’t be worth eating,” she said.
“I made the breakfast you just ate,” he reminded her.
Yes, you did, and if you’d been dying, Luis wouldn’t have made a meal, she thought, but Noah didn’t need to know that.
“I can do better,” she threw over her shoulder as she left the room.
Chapter Two
Teresa carried two of the boxes up the stairs, set them in the hallway, and went back for the last of her things. When she had left to go to college eleven years ago, she’d thought she was ready to set the world on fire. She was going to prove that a foster kid could do great things, and then she had met and married Luis Mendoza. He had promised to love, honor, and be true to her right there in front of the judge at the courthouse the week before Christmas—and she’d believed him. That was the first of many mistakes she’d made where Luis was concerned.
She was shocked when she opened the door to her old bedroom and saw that it hadn’t been touched since the day she left. The doll Miss Janie had given her their first Christmas together stared up at her from the miniature cradle that sat next to the rocking chair in the corner. She’d been too old to play with dolls when she got it, but now she kind of understood why Miss Janie had given it to her. With their darker skin, she and Kayla must’ve reminded her even back then of the two little baby girls she’d given away, and she’d never been able to give her own daughters a doll.
Teresa sank down in the rocking chair and took in the room bit by bit. Pink rose wallpaper, lace curtains, pink bedspread, and crocheted doilies under the silver comb and brush set on the oak dresser. It was like stepping through a fog into a different time. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she remembered how vibrant Miss Janie had been the day she’d shown Teresa the room for the first time. Now that sweet, kind lady was gone and only a shell remained. The first time she’d seen the room, awe and disbelief had washed over her—this was her very own bedroom. She had waited until Miss Janie had left her alone in the room that day before crying then, too. She wiped her eyes on the tail of her T-shirt and pushed up out of the rocking chair. She couldn’t sit there blubbering all day. She had work to do, especially since she’d made those smart-ass remarks about cooking.
Miss Janie must’ve either cleaned the bedroom once a week or had someone do it for her, because she didn’t even see a speck of dust on the closet shelf when she put one of her boxes