Twenty

F or the next couple of days, Genesis was numb. She didn’t go anywhere, talk to Jaxson or anyone else aside from her job in customer service. She texted a Call you back later to Habari. Even Miss Hazel’s calls went to voicemail. The morning after his revelation, Genesis woke up to several texts from Tiffany with links to a few articles on the PV Ponzi scheme and subsequent trial. The ugly truth in black and white. Jaxson hadn’t lied. In reading the article, she saw how his money had shielded him. He wasn’t named directly. They didn’t even list the sport. Phrases like “charismatic professional athlete” and “former high school and college standout” were used.

The story itself was devastating. There were instances where instead of cash the deed to homes had been held as “security,” only to be quietly placed in the scammer’s name, then sold for fast money. Eviction notices were how some of them found out their house had been sold. People had lost homes, life savings or both.

Genesis didn’t want to think the unthinkable, but she couldn’t unhear what she’d heard or unsee what she’d seen. Jaxson King had been involved in a Ponzi scheme, using home equity loans as investment capital. Jaxson King had been convicted of fraud. Jaxson King had urged her to use his banker to handle the loan for the home repair. Had this whole interest/attraction been a setup with a particular purpose in mind? Rather than wrestling with the green-eyed monster, had Tiffany been right? Was the lawsuit a way to protect Uncle Cyrus’s land and legacy? Had dating Genesis been an easy, inexpensive and legal way to get his hands on a neighboring farm?

In times like this, Genesis wished she were close with her family, especially Lori. Or had a couple of BFFs. She almost called Lance. He was a great listener. He was also the one who’d talked her into investing her savings on the promise of a thirty-day payback. Promissory note aside, she felt she’d been scammed, too, like millions of people all over the world.

A few days after the family-farmhouse fiasco, a call came in that Genesis answered.

“Hello.”

“Genesis, Al Young. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Okay.”

“It’s regarding the contesting of Cyrus Perry’s will. I believe you were served...last Friday night?”

“Something like that.” Genesis had lived a lifetime since then. The days blended together.

“The petition has been filed in county court. As the attorney on record for Cyrus’s estate, I received a copy. Did you read the document?”

“Not all of it. What do I do?”

“First of all, don’t worry. As I’ve shared with you and Cyrus’s sons multiple times, his fully executed will is within an ironclad trust, with very specific instructions on how its contents can be disseminated. Unfortunately, Cyrus’s sons have opened an ugly can of worms. I will now have to include the notarized letter I mentioned to you as a counter to the petition and further evidence of his express desires. I’ve already submitted paperwork to the judge. His docket is usually not that full during the summer months. We should have a ruling in thirty to sixty days.”

“It will take that long?”

“Hopefully not, but possibly.”

“I have a question. I’ve already begun minor repairs on the house and was preparing to clear out Uncle Cyrus’s belongings. Do I have to stop all of that until a ruling is made?”

“How extensive are the repairs?”

Genesis told him.

“Finish anything that’s already in progress, but don’t start anything else for now. That extends to anything outside or on the land as well. As I stated, Cyrus was very clear about how he wanted his estate handled and, because of how well he knew his sons, took extra precautions to ensure that his wishes would be granted. Be prudent. Don’t worry. Once this is out of the way, you’ll hopefully be able to enjoy your new home.”

A week went by without speaking with Jaxson. He texted every day—a greeting, positive quote, motivational message, GIF or meme. Not talking and no resolution made Genesis feel that her life was in limbo. That Sunday, a week and a day after she’d last seen him, she gave him a call.

“Bae. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You, too.” Genesis felt herself tearing up. She’d never been so emotional.

“I miss you.”

She had no response. Their connection had changed.

“I want to see you.”

“I need more time to think, process and make decisions. Not just about...what you told me. About everything.”

“I wish you wouldn’t shut me out. We could go through this better together.”

With your name on my deed?

“Have you spoken with your attorney?”

Bad timing for that question.

“Has the lawsuit been filed, or did your cousins grow a conscience and withdraw it?”

“I spoke with Al. We have to go through the process.”

“Jazz will be here soon. I want her to meet you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It was Jaxson’s turn to be silent.

“This is hard, Jaxson. I really like us together. But if you look at it from my perspective, you’d know that there’s no way I can keep seeing you. Not right now. Maybe not ever. I don’t know what to believe, who to trust, what to think. I need time. We’re likely going to be neighbors. Maybe somewhere down the line we can be friends. I need a break, so...I’ll reach out when things change...if they change.”

“And if not?”

“Take care of yourself, Jaxson. Goodbye.”

After that phone call, and about an hour of off-and-on well-deserved tears, Genesis retrieved her tablet from the bedroom. She sat and pondered for a moment. It was time to make another list.

Do Me To-Do List:

1. Organize uncle’s things/move to spare bdrm/shed

2. Make this my home—within circumstances

3. Work on myself (who am I, what do I want???)

4. Volunteer somewhere—Hazel

5. Lance—pymt plan

6. Call family/Hank/Tiffany

Writing that one hurt. Once again, because of Jaxson, she was on the outs with her immediate family. Uncle Cyrus had her at odds with her cousins. It was the middle of summer but the holidays would soon arrive. She’d thought she’d spend them with the man she was falling in love with. Now she wasn’t sure where she’d be.

7. Reconnect with friends/Memphis

The next thought that popped in surprised her and made her feel good. The idea had come from Jaxson but it was a good one. And, if necessary, she could do it on her own.

8. Research tiny homes

As soon as the list was done, Genesis jumped right in. Al had told her she couldn’t get rid of any of Uncle Cyrus’s things. He didn’t say they couldn’t be rearranged, boxed and stored. She had to do something to change what had become a claustrophobic atmosphere. Memories of her dear uncle had been replaced by those from “that day.” The energy of Clarence, Cleo and Tiffany’s invasion permeated the space. After a walkaround, she came up with a game plan. On an impromptu drive to Memphis, she called Habari. He play-cussed her out for not calling back sooner. Asked about Jaxson. She said he was fine. She also reached out to Brea, the friend who loved New Orleans. They ended up doing a little shopping together and grabbing a bite. It felt good to hear someone else’s story, someone who knew nothing about the dramas playing out in her life.

It took three days and dozens of boxes, but the farmhouse that once belonged to Cyrus began to transform. She completely cleared out the master, the other bedrooms and what she wouldn’t need in the living room. The smaller of the two guest bedrooms became a storage unit, completely full, worthy of a sign saying DANGER: KEEP OUT or simply DO NOT ENTER. She splurged and hired a cleaning company. She swore they wiped away dust and dirt that had sat undisturbed for thirty years. She pulled down curtains. Opened all the windows. It made a world of difference just to let the sunshine in.

Throughout the month of August, and following her uncle’s spirit vs. the lawyer’s advice, the transformation continued. She missed Jaxson every day, replayed his confession constantly. One day he was an asshole, guilty of everything. The next a brother who’d been misrepresented, deserving of the chance to prove he was the man who’d picked her up from the mud. She tried not to think about him but gave herself room to process, analyze and absorb her feelings. To replay the conversation without emotion. To try to have an unbiased point of view. Some days were better than others.

One afternoon, in the middle of her fluctuating feelings about Jaxson and the unexpected break from dating they were on, Lance called.

“Gen, what’s up?”

“Not much. What about you?”

“I’ve got good news.”

“How much good news?” Genesis warily asked.

“A thousand.”

Less than she needed but better than nothing. “I appreciate it, Lance.”

“No, Gen, it’s me who’s appreciative. I’m sorry this took longer than I thought. It’s obvious now my quick turnaround repayment timeline was unrealistic.”

“Does you having a little extra mean business is picking up?”

“We’ve got a long way to go, but yeah, word is getting out. We’re beginning to see a regular clientele. And we finally got a couple solid investors.”

“Is one that rapper you mentioned?”

“Naw, these are real businessmen with degrees and shit.”

“Ha!”

“They’re out of Texas with a strong business portfolio—car washes, Laundromats and other passive income. They were in town on business and dropped by on a Friday night when a party of birthday revelers had the place jumpin’. They liked the concept, loved the wings and agreed to come on as silent partners. In time they’d like to open up a second spot in Dallas.”

“That sounds good, Lance. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Gen. I’m happy for me, too. What’s going on in your world?”

Genesis gave him the Reader’s Digest version of recent events, minus the Jaxson portion. “I can’t believe Uncle Cyrus left me this property. Even with all the drama going on, I’m glad he did.”

“Are you living out on that big spread of land all by your lonesome?”

“Uh, Lance, are you trying to get all up in my business?”

“Damn right!”

The conversation continued a while longer and helped lift Genesis’s mood. Before they were lovers, she and Lance were good friends. Even though they didn’t work out as a couple, she was glad their friendship had survived.

Later that week, Genesis phoned Hazel, apologized for not returning the call earlier and began volunteering at the church’s thrift store. The humble abode that had once belonged to Cyrus began to look less like an old farmer’s hangout and more like her—a combination of her uncle’s ruggedness and her contemporary style. She was surprised at how well the two worlds came together. Knowing how much her uncle had loved the life he’d built here, she was happy to in some way keep his memory alive. One weekend, Habari came out and helped rearrange the heavy furniture. Later, Brea braved the country to see her place. When she arrived, her jaw literally dropped.

“Girl, you live in the country for real!”

Brea was a home-designing godsend, addicted to YouTube, DIY shows and HGTV. Genesis kept the trunk that doubled for a coffee table and a gun case but covered the glass with a colorful strip of kente cloth repurposed from a $10 muumuu purchased at the church’s thrift shop. Pillows brightened up her uncle’s well-worn black recliner and couch and complemented the strip on the table. At the thrift store, she purchased brightly colored curtains and a collection of wicker baskets. Other than items from her storage in Memphis, the living room and master bedroom were finished. The kitchen and bathrooms looked the same but were clean. It felt liberating to create the environment she wanted and not let others fully dictate how that happened.

Time continued to fly. One month bled into another, and before she knew it, leaves had turned, turkey fixings lined the store aisle and Christmas music threatened to push another year out of the way. One or two times, she ran into Jaxson. It was awkward and amazing and her heart hurt after they spoke, but the exchanges were cordial. Hazel tried to talk to her about their situation, but she wasn’t ready. Her wise words did lead to Genesis trying harder for a better relationship with Lori. She now made a point to call her mother once a week. The conversations were short and often one-sided, but Genesis felt better for making the effort, which, according to Hazel, was the point. She and Hank still needed to have an air-clearing conversation, but they’d started communicating again by text.

She watched self-help shows, especially those highlighting relationships, and journaled almost every day. She continued working on herself, too, which further helped generate compassion for Lori. Through an old Fix My Life episode where a mother and daughter were estranged, Genesis was able to look at herself through her mother’s eyes. How it must have felt to have a fine brother wine and dine you, make all kinds of promises, talk you out of a preferred termination and beg you to have his baby, only to get back with and marry his ex before said child blew out her first birthday candle. To hear stories of their wedding and subsequent move to the East Coast. To have to fight for child support and endure verbal abuse during these confrontations. Genesis was sure Lori loved her. But Genesis also was the spitting image of her daddy, a daily reminder of a man Lori despised. It wasn’t right, but Genesis began to understand, even empathize with, why Lori clung to Hank Sr., a good, no-nonsense, older man who adored her.

For his part, Hank Sr. did his best. He was clearly more comfortable around his sons than her, but in hindsight that might not have been personal. It may have been because he was an alpha male who gravitated toward activities like hunting, fishing and sports. Genesis was a girlie girl who wanted nothing to do with any of that. Like her mother, Hank wasn’t affectionate. But he was a provider and a protector. From the time her mother married Hank Sr., all of them had everything they needed and most of what they wanted as well.

The weeks of self-improvement and difficult yet authentic relationship reflections softened Genesis’s heart toward her family. Now she looked forward to spending the holiday with them. Just before she was to head to Memphis for Thanksgiving, Hazel called.

“Hello, Miss Hazel!”

“Hi, baby. You still going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’m just making sure. Have you talked to Jaxson to see what he’s doing?”

“Miss Hazel...”

“I know. You don’t want to talk about him. But as your elder, I’m going to say what’s on my mind.

“Sometimes things happen in life that are not all right or all wrong, all black or all white. We have to make sure the decisions made in those situations are coming from our heart, not just our head. That they’re not being made out of fear, or what-ifs, or based on what happened yesterday, or with somebody else. Baby, I don’t know the details. Those aren’t my business. But I know Jaxson isn’t just your neighbor. You love that young man. I saw it in your eyes. Take it from someone who has more years behind her than she does ahead. Life goes by in the blink of an eye. Don’t look back later and wish for a do-over when there’s a chance to have one right now.”

Jaxson was angry at the world in general, and a few people in particular. From the night Genesis’s cousin Tiffany had walked up and dropped a bomb, he’d been on a mission to find out who had his business in their mouth. He was never able to prove it 100 percent but felt his hunch was right. Deidre, his on-again, off-again high school ex, was the continuous thread through various aspects of his life’s journey, and the only one messy and spiteful enough to not only keep tabs on his life but troll the internet and track down his secrets. A part of him badly wanted to confront her. He resisted. Attention from him was the prize she sought. Though he’d done it years ago, he blocked her again from all of his accounts and made sure they shared no mutual friends. It was a small step toward eradicating what had become like a cancer, but at least it felt productive and wouldn’t land him in jail.

He missed Genesis. Plain and simple. Amazing how important she’d become in such a short time. Thank God for his daughter. Jazz arrived the week after the fallout. She kept him busy. Her constant chatter drove loneliness away. Once he flew her back to Phoenix, he treated himself to a much-needed break by spending ten days in Fiji. He returned home refreshed and ready to work. Good thing, because what followed were sixty-to-seventy-hour workweeks. The eight-unit apartment complex had come with unseen challenges, as often happened in an auction-style bid. Rather than be upset, he welcomed problems. Big ones. Complex ones. Next to repairing a one-of-a-kind relationship, fixing a wiring system, plumbing leak or reconfiguring a floor plan was easy.

He’d just gotten home, taken a shower and strolled into the kitchen when his cell phone danced across the quartz countertop. He looked at the caller ID and tapped the screen.

“Susan?”

“The one and only.”

“Hey, stranger. What’s going on?”

“Life. What about you?”

“Same.”

It was good to hear from Susan. She hadn’t reached out that much since meeting her new guy, Greg. They hadn’t spoken since his fallout with Genesis.

“How’s your baby girl? Back in Phoenix?”

“How’d you know she was here? Wait—let me guess. Miss Hazel.”

“Of course. I’ll work on forgiving you for not letting me meet her.”

“You’re right. I apologize,” Jaxson said. “I should have arranged it. Next time for sure, okay?”

“Okay.”

“How’s your clan?”

“Bad. Smart. The loves of my life.”

“Always.”

“Speaking of love... You and that girl still dating?”

“Her name is Genesis.”

“By now I thought you would have changed it to Exodus.”

Jaxson cracked up. “That was a good one. You’re a fool!”

“I try. She’s still around, huh? Must be serious. I hardly hear from you anymore.”

“I could say the same thing about you. Life’s been busy. Work is crazy.” He gave her a rundown of his flips with Blake. “And Genesis and I are on a break.”

“Seriously? Wow, Jaxson, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you really?”

“Honestly, I’d say around seventy percent so. She was different. I could tell you really liked her. What happened?”

“A misunderstanding. Long story.”

“Any chance you’ll get back together?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He paused to absorb the weight of that truth and picture its reality, a future that didn’t include Genesis. Didn’t look good. “Are you still with the guy from that night?”

“Greg? No.”

“What? You’ve already chewed him up and spit him out?”

“He was too needy and controlling. It only took a couple months to see the red flags. He had some good traits, too, so I gave him a chance. But being with him took too much energy. I don’t have time to help an adult grow up. Told him it wasn’t him, it was me.”

“Hang in there, friend. When you meet the right guy, it’ll work out.”

He heard his own words and wished it for both of them.

Genesis wasn’t the only new thing from the past few months that stayed on his mind. So did the idea of a tiny-home village. The possibility of such a community sat well in his spirit, a type of retribution for past sins. In his spare time, he continued to research the project. Even ordered floor plans and got ideas from Blake. He was especially inspired by the two South Carolina developers who’d transformed ten acres of land into a welcoming village for those wanting to park their mobile abodes and had made attempts to contact them.

Through continued research, Jaxson learned that the tiny-home business was a growing, multimillion-dollar industry. A partnership with Genesis would have allowed a larger set of homes, but after walking his land and plotting out several possible configurations on paper, he decided on two acres that were flat and close enough to the road for his dream to begin. The land currently being leased for cow grazing could be added later if the plan took off. There were mature trees to provide shade and character, and maybe a swing for nice evenings. He knew people at city hall who could help with the zoning process. Running adequate lines for electricity, gas and sewer hookups and acquiring the means to accommodate both regular and composting toilets would probably take the most time and present the greatest challenges. But if he could help several families realize the dream of home ownership, even a tiny one, it would be worth all his efforts.

The additional work generated by opening his seasonal Christmas tree business kept him busy on the weekends, but not enough to erase thoughts of Genesis. He tried to get into the Memphis social scene and scrolled through images on a couple of date sites. None of the pics or profiles held his interest. He’d already found the woman he wanted. Once again, something from the past had messed it up.

Jaxson could reflect on one positive note—his relationship with Abby. Since agreeing to watch Jazz so that Abby and her husband could take a vacation, the atmosphere between them had shifted. Not as much friction. He and his ex would never be best buds, but for the past few months there’d been no major arguments or hang-ups. They’d had civil, albeit short, conversations and, even better, made compromises that worked for them both. The latest involved the upcoming holidays, which in the past had been problematic, because Abby had wanted Jazz with her family on all of them.

Yet recently, through an almost pleasant exchange, it was decided that Jazz would spend Thanksgiving with Jaxson and Christmas at home. Whether it was the new baby, another girl, finding happiness with her husband or time healing wounds, the changes he saw in Abby made him hopeful that they’d reached a stage of positive co-parenting that would provide the best for their daughter—the one thing they both wanted.

Most of November was spent in Memphis. The eight-unit building that was formerly an apartment complex had been completely renovated and now boasted eight unique two-bed, two-bath condos. With the sale of just four units, Blake and Jaxson made back their investment. Two more were in the closing phase, and the other two had multiple applications from interested buyers. Buoyed by the success of that multiunit venture, they’d purchased another, larger complex in Nashville. Renovations on it would begin after the first of the year. With the completion of the apartment building, he and Blake returned to Holy Mound to enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. After Christmas, they’d give themselves a two-week vacation to be refreshed and ready at the start of the New Year.

It was a small yet lively bunch that gathered for Thanksgiving in Jaxson’s sister’s backyard. They’d enjoyed a feast of turkey, ham, duck and all the usual suspects for trimmings, and were now relaxing and enjoying each other. Some smoked cigars and other types of leaves. Others sipped a mixture of cocktails and nonalcoholic drinks. Jaxson bantered with everyone as he went from group to group, with one eye always on Jazz and the other children. He watched as two of his favorites among them broke away from those playing cornhole and other lawn games and ran in his direction.

Mario reached Jaxson first and threw himself into his arms. “Uncle Jax, when are we going to see the tree light up?”

“Yes, Daddy, and the fireworks!” Jazz half spoke and half whined as she jockeyed with Mario for premium positioning on Jaxson’s lap. Her move was as if to make it clear that he was her dad after all. “Can we go now? Please! Please!”

Holy Mound never let a good holiday go uncelebrated. Tonight was the annual Christmas tree and town square lighting. Retail establishments usually closed at night would stay open to welcome early holiday shoppers. Food trucks would line the street. Vendors would be out selling everything from spiced apple cider to tarot card readings. Every building in the square and those surrounding had been outlined in white and multicolored lights. Neon, blinking angels, stars and snowmen had been mounted on light posts and tree branches. A seventy-five-foot Shasta fir decorated with tinsel, lights and ornaments hand-made by various schoolchildren would anchor the festive setting from the center of the square. A citywide choir comprising high school students and seniors would provide the entertainment. The mayor would give a speech. At just after dark, and usually with great anticipation and flair, one lucky citizen selected from a random drawing would get to flip the switch and turn an ordinary shopping and business district into a winter wonderland. Fireworks would end the affair.

Jaxson skillfully balanced a child on each leg and answered the question for the umpteenth time.

“What did I tell you when you asked the last time?”

“Just after dark!” they chimed together.

“And we get to ride in the back of your truck?” For Jazz, this was a treat, and probably something that would freak Abby out.

“Yes, indeed. I’m throwing all of you hardheads back there.”

“My head isn’t hard,” Jazz said, running her hands across her curls for confirmation.

“No, sweetheart. You’re a softy.”

“I’m not soft! I’m strong!”

An older cousin ran by and squirted the group with a water gun, thankfully rescuing him from a debate he couldn’t win. Jazz was as headstrong as he was and as opinionated as her mother. If channeled correctly, the combination could take her as far in life as she wanted to go.

His sister Ruth joined him on the picnic bench. “Mario! Share with your sisters.” And then to Jaxson, “They grow up fast, don’t they?”

“It’s incredible. Can’t believe she’ll soon turn five and enter kindergarten.”

“She’s been in preschool since she was, what, two?”

“Just about. But she’s moving up to the ‘big kids’ school,’” he emphasized with air quotes. He continued mimicking Jazz’s voice. “She gets to ride the bus and everything!”

“Ha. Enjoy it, brother. You’ll blink and she’ll be sixteen, wanting nothing to do with you.”

“Like you were with Mama?”

“And like you were with all of us, Mr. Sports Superstar!” Ruth took a sip of her Arnold Palmer.

“Where’s Susan?”

Jaxson shrugged. “Probably with family. Why do you ask?”

“That’s who you brought to dinner last year. Y’all aren’t still dating?”

“We never dated, really. Just friends from high school.”

“Nobody special in your life?”

No, and pointing it out didn’t help matters at all.

That evening, Jaxson enjoyed a quiet night alone. He’d finally given in to Jazz’s begging and allowed her to spend the night with her cousin. He grabbed himself a beer from the fridge and had just settled on a sports channel when he heard a knock at the door. Couldn’t be Granville. That loud contraption of a truck always announced his arrival. Either he’d borrowed Hazel’s Cadillac or Susan had decided to drop by. Either way, he was glad for the company.

He hopped up and opened the door. It wasn’t Granville, Hazel or Susan. It was...

“Genesis.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Is this a bad time for a DDI?”

He smiled. Stepped back. “Of course not. Come in.”

They walked into his living room. “Have a seat.”

An awkward silence ensued, before Jaxson said, “It’s good to see you, Gen. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. You?”

“Good. Busy. Jazz is here.”

Genesis looked around. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No need to apologize. She’s not physically here at the moment. She’s at my sister Ruth’s house, spending the night with Mario and some other cousins.”

“I see.”

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” he asked.

“Yes, surprisingly. In Memphis.”

“You weren’t expecting to?”

“I’d hoped so. Hank and I had only talked by text since I’d confronted him about lying and then not taking responsibility for how it affected my relationship with the rest of the family. He finally apologized. We all talked about it. More than a decade later, we cleared that stale air.”

“Is that what brought you over?”

“That’s one of the reasons. The other was a phone call from Miss Hazel. She helped me put...everything you shared with me that night in perspective and be open to a different conclusion than the one I drew.”

“Which was...?”

“That you couldn’t be trusted. On top of what you revealed, Tiffany sent me articles she’d found on what happened. Your name wasn’t mentioned, but I knew the stories were about you and not told in the best light. The scenarios of how some of those people were scammed, taking out home equity loans and possible deed manipulation resulting in people losing their homes, felt too similar to be coincidental. That you’d kept encouraging me to work with your banker made trying to steal Uncle Cyrus’s land out from under me even more of a possibility, very similar to what happened in Paradise Valley.”

“And now?”

Genesis hesitated. “While that scenario is still a possibility, it’s not so much a probability.”

Jaxson nodded, afraid to voice any optimism about their future prematurely.

“Even though it’s been proven that what Hank said was a lie, I’d lived ten years thinking you’d conned me, slept with me on a dare. That much built-up emotion doesn’t leave overnight, even if it was a lie that started it.

“Miss Hazel’s words of wisdom helped me see all that’s happened from another perspective, to do what I hadn’t done, which was give you the benefit of the doubt. I refused to believe you were totally innocent. Then I ran across an article involving a crypto scandal where a bunch of celebrities lent their face to a scheme that looked legitimate and got caught in the cross fire. I made a business investment in blind faith. She reminded me that life doesn’t fluctuate between good and bad or black and white. That there are variations and layers in between.”

“Miss Hazel is a wise lady.”

“Indeed,” she agreed.

“That day after your cousins left, I told you the ugly, painful truth about what happened in Paradise Valley. It was a multimillion-dollar lesson. That’s how much I paid to put that fiasco behind me and keep my good name intact.”

Several seconds went by with neither saying a word. The television had been muted. Even nature was silent.

Finally, Jaxson took a chance and asked the million-dollar question. “What does your new understanding mean for us?”

“I hope it means that we can be friends again. I’ve missed you, not just as someone I dated, but as my neighbor, contractor and potential business partner. That suggestion you made about tiny homes has really stuck with me.”

“Me, too!” Jaxson interrupted, excited that even while apart they’d been in sync.

“I’ve watched dozens of videos, even subscribed to a few series where people share their tiny-home journeys. I’m very interested in moving forward. It’s not only a fascinating industry, but with the country’s ever-changing economics, one I believe will continue to grow.”

“I feel the same way, Gen. In fact, I’ve done quite a bit of research, too, going so far as to map out two acres of my property for six to eight homes.”

“You’re going to use the idea you pitched to me?”

“I didn’t know you’d use it, but I felt it was too good a venture to pass up. Plus, it’s a way for me to completely own and control a real estate venture, and to do something good for a community that’s loved and supported me.”

The more he and Genesis talked, the better they both felt. That they’d been thinking along the same lines about the same thing was confirmation that they worked well together.

Belonged together.

A thought Jaxson wisely didn’t share.

“I want to show you something.” He stood and headed toward the screened-in back porch that sometimes doubled as his office. He returned with a rolled-up architectural rendering.

“You want something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“Beer for me. Wine for you.”

“Sounds good.”

He turned toward the kitchen.

“Jax?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks for not making a big deal about how long it took for me to come around.”

“You’re here. That’s all that matters. I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I get a hug?”

That Sunday, Genesis met Jazz in a group setting at the McCormicks’ church. An afternoon program that included a children’s play. She arrived and sat with Jaxson, his sister Ruth, Mario and her other children, Susan, and about thirty other congregants. Granville worked as an usher. Hazel served refreshments. Jaxson didn’t know who was happier, him having Genesis and Jazz meet each other, or Hazel because he’d finally accepted an invite and visited the house of the Lord.

Over the next couple of weeks their friendship returned as though not interrupted, centered around the tiny-house project. Genesis loved the overall direction. Even though getting resolution of the will being contested was taking longer than expected or desired, the dream had continued on paper. Jaxson’s rendering of the potential village had been revised to include five acres of Genesis’s property adjacent to Jaxson’s two. At her suggestion, a playground and picnic area were added, with a place for outdoor exercise, which inspired Jaxson to mention a walking/biking trail around both properties and access to the pond. Perfect! The final drawings for the village had them both excited. initial plots with rectangular slabs of concrete for a variety of homes and sizes were mapped out. The slabs were sizable enough to accommodate wraparound patios for indoor/outdoor living, potted plants, patio furniture and grills. Each plot would come equipped with electric, water and sewer hookups. A small pavilion was added to the picnic area, along with a firepit. What started out as a plan had become a passion. Genesis and Jaxson looked forward to their vision coming to life.

Something else happened. The bricks rebuilt around Genesis’s heart yet again fell away. Genesis’s attention, at first focused almost exclusively on Jaxson the contractor and business partner, expanded to Jaxson the man. The fun, flirty, audacious woman who’d first caught his attention returned. Long talks focused on road access and tree lines turned into lunches and dinners together, and on this Friday night, to watching a movie.

They were at Jaxson’s place. He’d initially invited her up to watch a video about a tiny-house village in Texas. Larger and more upscale than their current plans, this one featured a golf course, clubhouse and community pool. As they sat watching side by side, sexual energy sizzled between them. Innocent touches led to knowing looks. Jaxson slid an arm around her shoulders. The move was natural. The easy embrace, nice. Once the video ended, Jaxson suggested having a pizza delivered and watching a movie. Genesis agreed.

When the action flick was over, Jaxson further tested the waters by inviting Genesis to spend the night. Luckily for both of them, she agreed to that, too.