rockers. No potted plants, though. The foliage of the island and its ever-encroaching nature made the perfect frame for the porches. No need to add decorations.
She passed three teens, and one gave a cat call after she drove by. Angela laughed, surprised by the deep belly sound that rose from the basement of her stomach and gurgled out of her mouth. Instead of feeling embarrassed, she gave a cat call right back to them. She watched the confusion flicker across their faces in her rearview mirror. Then their laughter caught up to her and she laughed too, right along with them. This time, it was easier, as if the well to her joy had been busted open and now the stuff could flow easily, effortlessly. Angela used to laugh a lot. Growing up, she’d been the one who would laugh so loud and long, she’d have the whole family infected before she’d finished. She missed that girl. Then again, maybe she still was that girl. Underneath the fresh paint and the power washing. Maybe young Angela lurked inside her skin waiting ever so patiently to be the debutante of a new age.
How could a drive through old Florida be so liberating? Maybe because she’d stood up to her ex-mother in-law. Whatever it was, Angela didn’t want this feeling to leave.
When she turned onto Cypress Way, a trio of small children followed her to the third house on the right where Jesse’s black Jeep sat in the shell driveway. She lowered her window just as the kids caught up to her. Two of the three were tall and lanky. The last, short and round-faced. All girls. “Hi. I’m looking for Jesse Malone. I see his car.”
None of them spoke, but the two taller ones turned and dashed into the house.
A slim elderly woman materialized in the doorway with a pot in her hands and a kitchen towel slung over her shoulder.
Angela got out of her car. The third little girl fell into step beside her. Angela smiled.
“Help you?” The woman at the door asked.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for Jesse.”
Jesse appeared from inside the house and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Angie! What brings you way out here?”
“Jesse, I’m so sorry about this morning. Lorene was out of line.” The words tumbled from her though a trio of young girls moved ever closer to hear the conversation. Angela didn’t care who was eavesdropping. She’d found Jesse and that was what mattered. The girls moved in until they were a tight circle around Angela. The elderly woman’s eyebrow notched up slowly. “So, this is Angie,” she said, sing-songy as if she’d said her name many times before.
“Angela Baker, meet my mother, Grace Malone.”
Grace adjusted her hold on the stockpot, and Angela could see green beans peeking out from the top. “This the woman who fired you?” They looked to be fresh beans like the organic ones she used to purchase at the farmer’s market in New Port.
“Her mother-in-law fired me,” Jesse corrected.
“Mmm-hmm.” There was a long pause while Jesse’s mother slowly looked her up and down.
Deeper in the house, a radio was on and the voice of an angel sang about lost love. But the sound bounced around, then emanated from the doorway and stopped just as an attractive woman filled the space over Grace’s other shoulder. She was the grown spitting image of the two tall girls, with her green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Hers was salon streaked with a variety of blonde and deep sunset shades, adding drama to an already striking woman. The trio of youngsters had lost interest in the conversation and were now standing nearby swinging their arms and inspecting the fancy car.
Then the woman behind Grace spoke and Angela realized her voice was the same as the one she’d heard singing. “Hi,” she said and flashed Angela a smile. “Here, Mama. I’ll do those.” The tall, stately woman stepped gracefully onto the porch, sat down in a wooden rocker, and started snapping the ends off the beans. She hummed and kept one eye on the unfolding scene.
Angela pointed to her. “That sound. That song was you? I thought it was a radio.”
The woman who owned the glorious voice smiled. “I’m Willow, Jesse’s sister. Sometimes I tend to forget how far these pipes carry.”
She said it like an apology. But Angela was fascinated by what she’d heard. She loved music, and Willow’s voice was unearthly good.
Finally, Grace stepped out, commanding the attention.
Jesse