26

In one day, I somehow managed to pack up my personal belongings in my office. I made certain not to take a single thing that

wasn’t mine, not even a pencil or a paper clip. Jason helped me load the items onto my truck: My framed degree from Alabama

State College. Photographs of me and the various boys who’d come through the group home doors. Knickknacks the boys had made

for me during arts and crafts, and stacks upon stacks of letters written by former residents—as well as their parents, grandparents,

aunts, and uncles—thanking me for the support I’d given them.

The last twenty-four hours had been difficult. Packing was emotionally draining, but it couldn’t even begin to compare to

telling the boys the news the night before. When we gathered them in the meeting room and told them I’d be leaving, the tears

flowed liberally, but especially from Pee Wee.

“B-b-but why?” he’d cried, running over to the couch where I was sitting and burying his head against my chest. I hated adding to his ever-growing list of losses—his mother, Chad, and now me. I knew that I couldn’t come up with a reason for my leaving that he’d understand, so I instead tried to comfort him.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, as much to myself as to him. I rubbed his back, but nothing seemed to soothe him. He sobbed

like his heart was broken, and I knew it was, because mine was too. I didn’t want to leave this place, these boys, and these

colleagues. Nothing felt fair about the situation, but one thing I’d learned from working at this job was that fairness wasn’t

a guarantee in life.

“Can we talk to somebody, Miss Katia?” Darren asked. “Tell them how good you do your job?”

I smiled at him. It amazed me that the sullen young man who’d entered the group home a few days ago now wanted to advocate

for me. It was yet another reminder to me that we’d done good work here. Maybe not the way the board wanted us to, but I was

certain that I’d played a role in making sure these boys felt safe and loved and seen.

After our conversation, Jason, David, and I had tried to divert their attention to playing games. They usually loved playing

Monopoly and Clue, but no one was in the mood. The movie of the week was A Boy Called Nuthin ’ , which starred Ron Howard, a favorite of the boys from The Andy Griffith Show . But the boys seemed disinterested, so everyone went to bed early.

The next morning, the tears started fresh with Pee Wee. He didn’t want to go to school.

“L-l-let me st-st-stay with you,” he cried, clinging to me when Jason told them to go to the van.

“I’ll still be here when you get home,” I said. “I promise.”

“Okay,” he said as his sniffling subsided.

I stood on the front porch and waved as Jason drove them away, and at the same moment, Seth and his crew pulled up. I watched

as they got out of their trucks and Seth instructed them on the day’s duties. After they left to begin their work, he approached

me on the porch. Our last conversation had been awkward, and I didn’t want that today. Perhaps more than any other day, today

I needed peace.

“Good morning, Seth,” I said, trying to smile.

“Good morning, Kat,” he said, returning my smile. “How are you doing? And if that’s a stupid question, just ignore it.”

“I’m doing much better than I thought I would be. Probably because I have so much to do before the day ends.”

“I won’t keep you then,” Seth said and turned to leave, but I reached out and stopped him.

“Seth, I want to apologize to you for how I’ve behaved. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I’ve been all over the place.

There’s a lot of things going on with me that I don’t feel comfortable discussing right now. Just know that I appreciate your

offer of friendship and I hope it’s still on the table.”

“It will always be on the table, Kat,” he said, smiling once more. “You never have to worry about that. And if we can only

be friends, then that’s what we’ll be.”

“Thank you.” I wanted to tell him the truth about why I hesitated to consider a relationship with him, but I didn’t want to

see the look I expected to see in his eyes. “Well, I have a lot to do. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

I went back inside, my mind processing the day’s responsibilities. I was determined to put things into place that would ensure

Pee Wee’s grandmother could take him home as soon as possible. I called Mrs. Gonzalez and explained the situation. She was

extremely excited and thought she might be able to get him to his grandmother by the end of the week if everything checked

out. I ended the conversation by telling her this was my last day at the group home.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Miss Daniels,” she said. “You’ve been a joy to work with and I wish you well on your future endeavors.”

I thanked her, and as soon as I hung up I phoned Darren and Charlie’s caseworker. She assured me that she was working on a

placement for them, possibly with an older cousin who’d expressed interest in taking both boys. Six more boys were scheduled

to come to the group home over the next week, so it was nice to have an action plan for the current boys. That way Jason would

be able to focus most of his attention on the new residents.

When Jason and I met, I reviewed every detail with him, and I reminded him I’d always be just a phone call away.

“I don’t know how you did all of these things, Miss Katia,” he said, sitting at the table in my office.

“Time,” I said, reaching over and patting his hand. “I didn’t come here knowing everything and I’m not leaving knowing everything.

You’ll learn this job over time, and you’ll make the running of this place your own. I have total and complete faith in you.”

By the time school was ready to let out, I was almost finished with everything on my to-do list. There was nothing left to

do other than eat the final meal Mrs. Kennedy and Miss Grant had prepared. I didn’t even know what it was because every time

I’d tried to go into the kitchen, they shooed me away. Whatever they were preparing, it made the entire house smell amazing.

I was sitting at my desk, signing some paperwork, when I heard voices—lots of voices. I went to the door and looked out at

the desk where Leslie normally sat, but she wasn’t there. I couldn’t imagine three boys and the staff making that much noise,

so I went into the hallway. Jason met me with a huge smile on his face.

“Who’s making all of that noise?” I asked, trying to peer around him, but he blocked my view.

“We couldn’t let you leave without letting a few people come by and say their goodbyes,” he said.

I looked at him suspiciously. “What people?”

“Just follow me,” he said and led me to the meeting room. He swung open the door, and the room was filled with people. When

I looked closely, I recognized many of the faces. Some of them were young men who’d lived at the group home over the years,

and others were former staff members who’d moved on to other careers.

“Oh, Jason,” I said as the tears began to flow down my face. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “How did you do this? Why

did you do this?”

He hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear as he pressed a handkerchief into my hands. “I did this because you needed to be reminded of the legacy you’ve created, Miss Katia. You needed them to come back and have the last word. It doesn’t matter what those board members say—it’s about what these people say and what we say,” he said, pointing toward the crowd of people.

“Oh my,” I said, dissolving into a full-blown cry, dabbing at my eyes with the handkerchief. “I don’t believe this. There

are so many people here. You planned all of this in two days?”

“There would have been more people if I’d had more time,” he said. “There are a few more people here who wanted to come and

celebrate you too.”

I looked over to where he was pointing, and Mrs. Hendricks, Mama, Marcus, and Seth were sitting on the couch, smiling at me.

I shook my head. I’d never done this work for any fanfare. It was always about the boys. I felt like I might topple over,

so I gripped Jason’s arm to steady myself.

“I couldn’t track down everybody in such a short period of time, but you also have tons of messages that some of the young

men wanted me to pass on to you—I already packed them in your truck,” Jason said, squeezing my shoulders. Then he turned to

the crowd. “Everyone, line up and come give Miss Katia her flowers.”

Every single young man in the room who had been part of the group home, including Pee Wee, Darren, and Charlie, lined up with

a single white rose in his hand. One by one the boys hugged me and told me how much my support and love had helped them become

the young men they were today.

“I never would have gone to college if it hadn’t been for you constantly telling me how smart I was, even though my report cards said something different,” Lester Kilpatrick said as he gave me a rose and a big hug. He was one of the first residents who’d come to the group home after I was hired as executive director. Now he was an elementary school science teacher.

Next in line was Tyler Carruthers, a huge success story. He was sixteen when he’d come to the group home five years ago, and

he read at a fourth-grade level. After a bit of probing, we discovered that Tyler had a reading disorder but was a wiz at

mathematics. I made sure we got him a tutor, and by the time he left the group home, he was reading at an eighth-grade level.

“I have my own lawn care service, Miss Katia, and I employ boys in the foster care system,” Tyler said as he kissed my cheek

and handed me his rose. “Couldna done it if you hadn’t believed in me.”

The testimonials went on and on, and I cried like I’d never cried before.

The very last person to bring me a rose was Pee Wee.

“Th-th-thank you for l-l-loving me and t-t-telling me I’m smart e-e-even though I st-st-stutter,” he said, hugging me tightly

and handing me the last of the roses that made up my bouquet. I handed the bouquet to Jason, then reached down and lifted

Pee Wee up so I could look him in the eyes.

“I do love you, Mr. Mason Pee Wee Jones, and you are one of the smartest people I know,” I said in his ear. “Don’t you ever

let anyone tell you anything different.”

I eased Pee Wee back down onto the floor, and then I turned to everyone else. “I don’t even know what to say. I was dreading today because... because...” I took a deep breath, and I noticed that all of the young men in the room were taking a deep breath with me. They remembered. That almost sent me over the edge, too, but I held it together. “Thank you for reminding me that good things came out of this group home, and you all are that good thing. I love you.”

Mrs. Kennedy came into the room, smiling at everybody. “Food is ready. Y’all come get it. And, Miss Katia, you’re first in

line.”

“No, you all go ahead of me,” I insisted. “I want to hug everyone. Just make sure you save me some.”

Everybody laughed and formed a line, and I hugged the rest of the special guests. Seeing people I’d relied on to help me run

this group home was so beautiful. When I got to Mrs. Hendricks, I was crying all over again, and she was too.

“This place won’t be the same without you,” she said, hugging me tightly. “Thank you for being such a bright light. If you

ever need me, you call.”

As she stepped away, Mama and Marcus moved close enough to give me hugs.

I hugged them back tightly. “Y’all knew about this?”

“Jason told us about it yesterday at church,” Mama said, wiping away her tears. “This is quite the honor, baby, and you deserve

it. You gave this place everything you had, and now you get to see how the seeds you planted grew.”

“Proud of you, sissy,” Marcus said, kissing my forehead. Once again he was dressed in his Marine uniform. “Aaron would be...”

His voice faltered as he swiped at a tear. “Aaron would be proud of you too.”

“Thank you, Bubby.” I hugged him again. “Go eat. You and Mama get in line.”

He squeezed my hand and guided Mama to the food line. The last person to come up to me was Seth. He’d changed into dress pants

and a nice shirt.

“You knew too,” I said accusingly. “And you told me nothing.”

“It was a surprise,” he said. “Surprise!”

I laughed. “This was wonderful. Thank you for coming back to be part of this amazing evening. I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, Kat,” he said and kissed my cheek. “I know nothing will make leaving this group home easy, but I hope knowing

how many lives you’ve touched will help.”

“It does.”

“Here, get in front of me,” he said. “I can’t have you at the end of the line at your own party.”

I stepped in front of Seth, and as we moved along the food line we chatted about my upcoming trip to Prichard to visit Alicia.

“That will be good for you,” he said. “Your cousin seemed like an amazing woman. When you get back, maybe you and I could

go out for lunch. As friends—just friends.”

“That sounds nice,” I said. As long as Seth and I remained friends, I didn’t see any harm in going to lunch with him.

When we reached the front of the line, Mrs. Kennedy started preparing plates for me and Seth. Everything I’d enjoyed eating

over the years was on the menu: baked ham, fried chicken, collard greens, candied yams, macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs,

and peach cobbler. I looked from Mrs. Kennedy to Miss Grant.

“When did you ladies have time to cook all of this food?” I asked. “There’s no way you did all of this today for all of these people.”

They laughed, and Mrs. Kennedy answered. “We started working on the food over the weekend at our homes. We finished it here

today. Nothing is too good for you, Miss Katia.”

“Thank you, ladies,” I said. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“You gone miss our good cooking,” Miss Grant said with a laugh, coming around the table and hugging me. “We gone miss you

too, baby. So much.”

The rest of the evening went by fast. Way too fast. I visited with as many people as I could, getting caught up on all of

their news. I looked at photos of wives and girlfriends and new babies. I heard about jobs and promotions. After a while,

people started filing out, and before I knew it, the only people left were the current staff and residents.

I quietly slipped out of the room and went to my office. I grabbed my bag and coat, looking around the room one last time.

Then I walked to the door, turning out the light before exiting Jason’s office.