“She told me that her favorite color was lilac,” Teresa added. “On Easter Sunday, before Kayla came to stay with us that summer, she said she loved pastel colors. Why don’t we have the florist make a casket piece of all colors? When I think of her as a color, she’s every color in the rainbow.”
“We should bury her in one of her Sunday dresses,” Kayla said. “Teresa and I can pick one out.”
“See?” Sam smiled. “That wasn’t so hard. You just think of her and what she liked, and it makes it easier. The sun is supposed to shine through Tuesday, but according to the weatherman, storms are coming through the area on Wednesday. Miss Janie liked to sit on the screened porch even on hot days, and she hated storms.”
Thank God for Sam, Teresa thought.
“That’s the day after tomorrow,” Kayla moaned. “I’m not sure I can tell her goodbye that quick.”
“Yes, you can, and the sooner the better. Once the funeral is over, we’ll all begin to heal,” Sam told them. “And yes, I’m speaking from experience. None of us will ever forget her, but we have to get through the grief in order to start living again.”
“Are you over Delia yet?” Teresa asked.
“Nope, but I’m workin’ on it. Grief ain’t an overnight thing, but time and good friends help. Let’s have some chocolate doughnuts and milk in Miss Janie’s honor. Folks will have already seen the hearse and will be coming by soon. Y’all will need to be dressed and ready to talk to them.”
Teresa looked down at her Betty Boop pajamas and started to laugh—big guffaws burst out of her.
“Have you lost your mind, Teresa?” Kayla scolded. “There’s nothing funny going on here.”
“Look at us.” She waved an arm.
“Good God almighty!” Kayla gasped. “It’s a wonder Miss Janie didn’t crawl right off that gurney and fuss at us for going outside in our pajamas. And yours even have pictures of Betty Boop dressed in what looks like a teddy.”
That turned into an infectious belly laugh that had all of them roaring in a matter of minutes when each of them realized how they’d been dressed when the coroner and the funeral folks had arrived. Noah in his white tank top and Aggies pajamas. Kayla in her baggy neon-green shorts and a nightshirt that looked like it had come from a rag bag.
“I needed that.” Teresa wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve.
“I think we all did,” Noah agreed.
“Y’all go on and get dressed,” Sam said. “I ain’t much of a cook, but I know how to open a package of chocolate doughnuts and pour four glasses of milk.”
“Thank you,” Noah said, and then left the room with Teresa and Kayla right behind him.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect, laughing like that,” Teresa said.
“Of course you didn’t, and if Miss Janie was here, she’d have got a big kick out of the way we all look.” After giving Teresa a quick peck on the lips, Noah closed the door to his bedroom and fell back on his bed. “I’m going to miss you so much, Miss Janie,” he whispered. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for me in the past or how much you’ve helped me understand myself during these weeks I’ve had with you.”
He took a deep breath before he went on. “Or for the future. I would have never gotten to know Teresa as an adult if you hadn’t brought us all together here in Birthright or have figured out what to do with my life.”
Chapter Seventeen
On Monday afternoon Teresa looked around the kitchen and groaned. “What are we going to do with all this food? Do folks realize that there’s only three of us in the house?”
Sam patted her on the back. “Country folks show their respect and love with food at a time like this. I knew this would happen. That’s why I brought aluminum foil and different-sized containers. Miss Janie taught me how to do this when Delia passed away. We’re going to divide the casseroles into portions for three to four people and put them in the freezer. We can do the same with most of the cakes, pies, and cookies, but we’ll have to eat the jelled fruit salads and the puddings pretty soon. That kind of stuff don’t freeze too well.”
“I remember Miss Janie taking food to funeral dinners and to homes when new babies were born,” Kayla said.