How much tragedy does it take before someone snaps?
Raised by the president of the Rogue Dogs Motorcycle Club, who just happens to be her uncle, had given Teresa-James O'Dell a tough skin. She didn't waste her time with the gossiping girls who saw...
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26 years old
"Are you sure," I asked the question for the twelfth time. For as long as I knew her, TJ prided herself on the fact that she weighed all her options before making any decision. We'd found out about the baby and talked for hours about what to do. It took her weeks to decide on a college, and months to pick a major. It took her seconds to decide to put her grandfather's place on the market.
The Last Will and Testament of Henry Richard James was read a few days after the funeral. It was a very short gathering of the ones listed to receive what he had left behind. The things he hadn't already given away. His wife's jewelry was to be divided between Lucinda and TJ. The '66 Lincoln Continental that he'd gotten new and kept parked in the garage was left with Marty. A box with the Rogue Dogs logo carved into the top, and all its contents, was left to Danny.
Oliver, Jillian and myself were included. Something about us being his family as well. He'd watched us grow up, was the generic choice of words he'd left for the man in a suit and tie to read. The old man did watch Oliver and Jillian grow up in every sense of the word. Physically. Emotionally. Their maturity. As a couple and individually. It wasn't the same with me. The fact that he'd left something for me was more than I expected.
Although the paperwork said the house for TJ, we both knew he'd left it to both of us. That was all I had wanted from the man. He'd given TJ a reason to come home for good. He'd set the entire thing into motion showing that there was no doubt in his mind that we were supposed to be together and raise a family in that house. When she said she wanted to sell it I was surprised. Which is exactly why I continued checking with her about her choice.
"I'm one hundred percent sure. Now, stop asking," she slowed down the Bronco as she guided the beast to the side of the road, "And tell me what you think."
There was a little flourish of her hands as she gestured toward whatever was on my side of the street. I gave her a dramatic sigh then turned to find a house. We were in a residential area so that was to be expected. What has caught me off guard is the sign with the smiling face of a woman and the words new listing below it.
The single story home was a bright ass yellow. The driveway stretched along the side of the house to where, I believe, the garage was tucked away. The front porch stretched the entire front of the house and even had a bench swing already in place. The pale blue shutters kept adding to the colorful exterior. My eyes traced back over the yard before returning to the blue door to find it wide open now. The face from the sign now had a body and was waving to us.
"What are we doing here," I asked. The answer I got was one only my little fox could give. It was silent, mischievous and full of amusement. I followed her out of the car and up the drive to the sidewalk. The woman met us half way with an award winning smile.
"Are you, Teresa?" She shook TJ's hand as she nodded. She offered me her hand next adding, "That would make you Wyatt. I'm Carrie Carson. Are you folks ready to check out the house?"
