Small Town Sinners Part 22

It works. Two minutes later, my phone rings. I grab it quickly.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," Ty says. "Are you really going to see Tessa?"

"Yes," I say. Though the way he asks makes me remember to be nervous. I'll have to lie to my parents again. I'm afraid they'll tell me I can't go.

"I'm in," says Ty, interrupting my worrying.

And that's all that matters at this moment. Ty's in.

Chapter Twenty-eight.

The plan to see Tessa is in full swing. Starla Joy will pick me up on Sat.u.r.day for a "precal cram session." I haven't figured out how I'll explain possibly getting home late that day, but I don't want to lie. That's why I'm avoiding it altogether. Besides, we'll be back by seven, in time for the dress rehearsal of h.e.l.l House-we all have to be there.

When I slip into the tiny backseat of Starla Joy's truck on Sat.u.r.day morning, I can't help but feel excited. I've never been on a road trip. Well, except for with my parents to see my grandmother and my cousins, but that hardly counts.

Dean turns around from the pa.s.senger seat.

"I have a box of Fiber One bars, a cooler full of Mountain Dew, and two bags of Doritos-regular and Cool Ranch," he announces.

"I've got to be honest," says Starla Joy. "That sounds like a fartfest waiting to happen."

I join in their laughter as we head to Ty's house. He's waiting at the end of his long driveway, backpack in hand.

"I told Aunt Vivian we had a project to work on all weekend," he says, slipping into the seat beside me. "Dean, I'm spending the night at your house."

"You may want to rethink that after you hear about his snack choices for the day," I say. Dean smirks, holding up his bars and Doritos for Ty to see.

"I guess we can pick up some fruit or something," he says.

"No, man," Ty says. "You got it right. Road trips are made for junk food and McDonald's!"

"And fiber?" I ask.

"Hey, the guy's got daily dietary needs," Ty says. "It's cool."

Starla Joy turns up the radio as we get on the ramp to the highway. I look out the window and stare out at the flat plains around us.

"Adios, West River," says Dean. He leans around with his hand in the air and Ty gives him five.

Dean and Ty go back and forth through the whole car ride, sharing snacks, debating the merits of the new Star Trek movies versus the old, arguing over radio stations (Dean wants metal, Ty wants cla.s.sic rock). I'm surprised that Starla Joy doesn't chime in for the music part-she usually insists on country while we're in her truck-but she's just being quiet, like I am, taking it all in.

We stop at McDonald's, and I get the two cheeseburger meal, eating one while we're there and tucking the other into the seat pocket when we get back to the truck. As we pull onto the highway again, Starla Joy says, "If I find that cheeseburger in a week, you're going to be cleaning this entire truck."

"Don't worry," Ty says, grabbing it. He looks at me and grins, asking for permission as he unwraps it.

"Sure," I say, smiling.

He takes a huge bite and part of the bun sticks out the side of his mouth. I laugh.

Ty seems wholly himself, like a weight's been lifted off of him. The slightly brooding moments have left this week-and the confidence that was 90 percent there before s.h.i.+nes fully now. I see what forgiveness and honesty can bring. I think of Isaiah 1:18: " *Come now and let us reason together,' says the Lord. *Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.' " And I smile.

A few minutes later, the sky turns gray and it starts to rain a little bit, just enough so Starla Joy puts the winds.h.i.+eld wipers on the low setting. I hear the squeak, squeak, squeak every time they go across the gla.s.s.

Dean reaches for the radio.

"Dean, if you touch that dial while Van Morrison is still singing I will throw your fiber bars right onto the highway," Ty says, snagging the box of bars and rolling down his window.

Dean puts his tuner-reaching hand up in the air.

"Put the box down," he says. "There's no need to take this out on the health food. I am ready for some Metallica though."

Ty snorts.

"Man, I stayed up all last night working on the h.e.l.l House props for the dress rehearsal," Dean says. "They have to be ready to go tonight or I'm in deep you-know-what."

"You're tired?" asks Ty. "That's why you need Metallica?"

"It refreshes me," Dean says.

"Oh, fine," Ty allows, and Dean reaches forward to hit the preset for Rock 88, a hard-core metal station.

"Hey, this is it," says Starla Joy, and suddenly music takes a backseat. We're getting into the right lane to exit, heading into the town where Saint Angeles sits.

We have to drive about ten miles off the highway. We pa.s.s an antiques shop with painted posters that tout china sets, oriental rugs, and rocking chairs. Two farm stands by the road have handmade wooden signs advertising squash and corn and potatoes in bold red paint. Each spot we pa.s.s looks a lot like West River, but it feels different somehow.

We've all gotten quieter and quieter, and by the time we get up to the driveway of Saint Angeles, we're downright silent.

When we get out of the truck, our door slams echo loudly in the October rain. It's misting, not pouring, and the sky is that yellow gray that shows up when a storm isn't bad yet but is going to roll soon enough.

The building sits unimpressively in front of us. Somehow I imagined it like a castle out of medieval times, with large spires and double-thick oak doors. But it's actually just a one-story ranch house-larger than most-with tan vinyl siding and a gla.s.s entrance. It could be an insurance agency. I feel mildly disappointed.

"We have to check in," Starla Joy says.

The three of us follow her through the flimsy gla.s.s doors and meet Dottie, an older lady with one of those beehive hairdos, in the reception area.

"Starla Joy, honey," she says warmly, stepping out from behind her desk to give Starla Joy a hug. Then she eyes the rest of us from under blue-shadowed lids. "Where's your mama, baby?" she asks.

"She couldn't come today," says Starla Joy. "She had to work, so some friends of mine-and Tessa's-decided to drive here with me."

I'm in awe of Starla Joy's skillful white lies. They come so fast and free.

Dottie gives Dean a once-over. He's wearing normal jeans today but his XXL black sweats.h.i.+rt still covers most of his body. He pulls the hood off his head and gives Dottie a smile through his greasy-as-usual hair.

Suddenly Ty, with his perfect blue eyes and his crisp lavender polo s.h.i.+rt, runs interference. "Miss Dottie, we're so honored to meet you," says Ty in a honey-sweet voice. He distracts her gaze by taking her hand and kissing it.

Overkill, I think, but it seems to be working. Dottie giggles and I swear I see a hint of a blush on her wrinkled cheeks.

"I'm Ty Davis," he says. "Starla Joy's told us all about the lovely lady who is helping take such good care of our Tessa. Won't you escort us back to see her? I'd love to hear about your work at Saint Angeles."

He holds out his elbow for her, and without a second of hesitation she grabs on.

"Well, I just work at the lobby desk, but I really am on the front lines of who gets to see our girls," she babbles, leading us down the hall.

"He's a genius," whispers Dean as we follow.

"You could've showered," I say back, b.u.mping him playfully.

He leans into the wall and knocks a framed photo.

I stop to set it straight again, and that's when I notice that we're in a hallway lined with baby pictures. Some infants are sitting with their mothers, others are burbling alone on rugs surrounded by colorful toy blocks. It's like the inside of a Sears Picture Studio.

"Former guests," says Starla Joy, noticing my interest and turning back to me.

"Wow," I say, taking a deep breath. These are all babies who might not have been born if it weren't for Saint Angeles, if it weren't for the influence of churches and the work of G.o.d. I swallow a lump in my throat because these photos are really moving, but it's not fair for me to cry before I even see Tessa.

"Come on, Lace," says Starla Joy. "Let's catch up before Dottie tries to make out with Ty."

I smile and grab her hand. She squeezes it as we head down the hallway.

I'm so glad we're here.

When we get to Tessa's room, I see her sitting by the window, legs up on a low table, with her back to us.

"Tessa Min-ter," says Dottie in a sing-song voice. "Your friends are here!" She claps her hands together, utterly charmed by Ty at this point, and Tessa turns around, startled.

Her hair hangs down in unwashed strings and I see now that she's wearing a bathrobe and blue fuzzy slippers. As her profile emerges, I gasp. She's so big. I mean, I knew she was pregnant, but it's another thing to really see it.

"You didn't know we were coming," Dean says, stating the obvious.

"No," says Tessa, looking at Starla Joy anxiously. She pulls her robe over her blue-and-yellow-striped nightgown and stands up laboriously. Ty reaches over to help her, taking her arm.

"Thanks," she says, her smile starting to return to normal. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

She stops by her closet and picks a dress off a hanger, then walks across the hall and into the bathroom, head held high.

"I'll let you all visit," says Dottie, and she walks back down the hall after an oddly coquettish wave to Ty. He blows her a kiss.

"Ty's got a new girlfriend," Dean says, sitting down in the chair Tessa just left.

Ty laughs. "Someone had to take that fall to get your punk-looking self in here," he says.

I look over at Starla Joy. She's fussing with the comforter on Tessa's bed, which I notice is from their house. It's dark blue with white stars along the edges, and it's more Tessa than anything else in this room.

I glance around. It's sort of like a hospital here, but a little bit nicer. There's bright yellow floral wallpaper and sheer white curtains with ruffles at the edges. The nightstand by Tessa's bed has a cute seash.e.l.l lamp and a Bible sitting on it, and there's a pretty big bookshelf in the corner filled with old paperbacks. But still, Tessa has to share a hall bathroom and there's a stale cafeteria smell everywhere.

"Why didn't you tell her we were coming?" I ask Starla Joy, walking around one side of the bed to help her straighten the comforter.

"I didn't want her to tell me no," she says quietly.

Then she looks up at the doorway, and I follow her eyes. There's Tessa, still as round as if she had a beach ball under her clothes, but looking much more like her old self. She's wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant dress with colorful blue embroidery across the neckline. Her light brown hair, brushed out now, touches her freckled shoulders softly. And her eyes are sparkling. She still has the blue fuzzy slippers on, though.

"I'd take you guys out into the garden, but the rain looks like it's going to pick up," says Tessa, cheerful now. "Let's go in the den and see if anyone's around."

She spins on her toes and we all follow her up the hall, like she's our teacher or the field-trip chaperone or something. Tessa is still mesmerizing.

In the den, there's another girl-with-beach-ball reading the Bible at a table that has a chessboard painted on top of it. This place is starting to remind me of a mental inst.i.tution, or at least what I've seen of mental inst.i.tutions in movies. But I'm trying to be open minded. I think back to those baby photos in the hall and all the tiny lives that get nurtured here.

"Hey, Sylvia," Tessa says.

"T!" Sylvia says enthusiastically, pus.h.i.+ng back her chair to stand up and greet us. "Who you got here?"

"You know my sister, Starla Joy," Tessa says. "And these are my friends Lacey, Dean, and Ty."

Sylvia nods at each of us as she holds the Bible to her chest. "Nice of y'all to visit the fallen one," she says.

I look at Tessa anxiously, but she just laughs, like this is a common joke among the girls here. The rest of us smile nervously.

"Sylvia's family is always here," says Starla Joy. "Her grandma made us the best pumpkin bread last weekend."

"They've got my back," Sylvia says. "That's for sure. And it's important too." She gives Starla Joy a meaningful smile. "I'll let y'all catch up," she says. Then she flashes us a peace sign and heads down the hall.

"She seems, uh ...," Ty starts.

"Really pregnant," says Dean.

"Dean Perkins!" I chide.

"I was gonna say friendly," says Ty.

"She's both," Tessa says, sitting down on the couch in the center of the room. "Most of the girls here are."

We all stand around, and I feel weird. Visiting Tessa seemed like such a good idea, but now that we're here I'm not sure how to act. Should I ask her questions about the baby or will that make her upset? Should I talk about h.e.l.l House, or will that make her think about what she's missing by not getting to star in it? Should I- "Will you guys stop standing around like we're at a wake?" Tessa says. "Sit with me already!"

Starla Joy plops down on the couch and I perch on a love seat to her right. Ty sits next to me and Dean slinks into a chair across the coffee table. Tessa puts her feet up in Starla Joy's lap and leans back against a pillow.

"This is the week of surprise guests," she says.

"We didn't mean to-" I start.