paintings from a clothesline that stretched all around the classroom. She was such a sweet old lady.”
“Yeah.” Maryvelle tilted her head and smirked at Tanyalee. “Do you remember how you ruined my life in kindergarten?”
Tanyalee blinked as something vaguely unpleasant began to nudge its way into the edges of her brain, trying to get itself remembered, but kindergarten had been an awfully long time ago. Besides, she didn’t recall much about the year her parents had died, which Dr. Leslie said was common for children who’d experienced trauma. “Well,” Tanyalee said, swallowing down a surprising rush of emotion. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, Maryvelle, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been all that bad. I mean, it was kindergarten, for heaven’s sake.”
Maryvelle stared at her in disbelief for a moment before she laughed. “Really? Well, let me refresh your memory, princess. One day you got it in your head that you wanted to stand next to Dale Wilcox in the cafeteria line, but that’s where I was standing, because Dale and I liked each other.”
Tanyalee began to get a sinking feeling in her belly.
“And so what did the pretty little spoiled rich girl do to get her way? She just walked right on up and grabbed hold of the waistband of my Garanimals pedal pushers and yanked them down until my bare bottom was hangin’ out for everyone to see!”
Tanyalee gasped. “I did not!” She paused. “I didn’t … did I?”
“Oh, yes you did, you horrible little slut! I cried my eyes out for a month! Dale didn’t speak to me again until fourth grade! You were a demon-child and I hated you! I still do!”
Tanyalee tried her best not to let her nostrils flare with rage, because a lady’s nostrils never flared, even when she’d been provoked to this degree. Besides, things were not as neat and tidy as Maryvelle made them out to be. Tanyalee distinctly remembered how cruel Maryvelle had been to Tater Wayne when they were young, calling him names, making fun of his eyeball and his bad teeth.
Yet suddenly, Dr. Leslie’s words wafted through her mind like a cooling breeze—“An opportunity to make amends might arise when you least expect it. Remain willing. Remember, it’s not about who’s right and who’s wrong—it’s about who’s mindful enough to seek the gift of healing for everyone involved.”
But what was she supposed to say? Technically, it seemed like she could have been cruel to Maryvelle, but what was the statute of limitations for something like that? Tanyalee took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I did that to you all those years ago, Maryvelle.”
“If?” She stuck her index finger in Tanyalee’s face. “You did do that to me! The incident left me so scarred that I decided to dedicate my life in service to the downtrodden, and I am here doing the Lord’s work eight to five, five days a week.”
She felt as if a dry dishrag were lodged in her throat. She couldn’t swallow. “I…” Her hands trembled as she struggled for the words. “I am truly sorry I hurt you.”
Maryvelle blinked in surprise, lowering her accusatory finger. “Well, then, okay. But my answer is still hell no! Hell no, you may not help us provide Christian charity to those in need here at Bread of Kindness, because we do not want ungodly people such as yourself.”
Oh, it was hard. The perfect comeback was on the tip of Tanyalee’s tongue. Ungodly? How ungodly was it when the Reverend Spickler’s daughter got arrested at a junior-high pot party? Or when Dale Wilcox got her pregnant at fifteen? Ungodly, Maryvelle? You were married to that no-good womanizer for a decade before he divorced you, and now here you are, secretly mad at God and serving soup to street people while busting out of your jeans!
But Tanyalee said none of it. There was no point. Maryvelle had suffered enough, she supposed, and those mean words wouldn’t have done anybody any good—not Maryvelle or Dale or their kids or Tanyalee.
With what air she had left, Tanyalee said, “I appreciate your time. Good luck with your mission. I hope one day you might be able to forgive me.”
Now, with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, Tanyalee realized that her step work might have to extend well before high school, perhaps even into her toddler years. She decided that when she got back to Aunt Viv’s house, she’d get herself a lemonade and start really giving this