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didn't have anywhere to put her clothes, especially since she had washed and put away all of mine. If she'd left them all over the floor and dirty, I was sure I could have moved my stuff around enough to give her a drawer or two, but as it was, my dresser looked like it was going to burst.
    She didn't seem worried, though. She just set the bags of clothes on her bed and then waved for me to follow her. We walked into the bedroom with all the junk in it, and it looked like she'd cleaned it up and cleared off some shelves. "Can I use this for my clothes?" she asked pointing to a bookcase.
    I shrugged. "Sure, let me get it for you." I moved it fairly easily, since it wasn't too heavy, and set it against the wall by the bedroom door. That was really the only place where there was any room, with the two beds, my dresser and then the door to the bathroom. I could see why they hadn't added a closet to this room.
    She started unpacking her clothes and set them on the shelves, but she stopped when she came to the bag of underclothes.
    "Hey, why don't you use the dresser, and I'll use the shelves? I mean, you've already seen my shorts, and you know there ain't nothing special about them like, um, ladies underwear."
    We both blushed, and before she could answer, I grabbed one of my drawers, dumped it on my bed, and went to grab the next. She put her hand on my arm and carefully pulled out the drawer. She took the folded stacks of laundry and put them on the shelf. I realized she was trying to preserve all the hard work she'd put into folding my clothes, and I felt like a jerk.
    Once all the clothes were put away, she went to the kitchen and started pulling out stuff to make sandwiches. I stepped into the kitchen and started pulling out more stuff to go with them. She smiled, as I did my best to rearrange the chips into a flower for her. "That's what you get when you marry a guy who grew up in a restaurant. Just wait until we get some fruit, I'll make you flowers and birds."
    "Really?" she asked softly, and I wondered if she would ever talk in a normal voice.
    "Yeah, my momma used to cater a lot of parties, and so she taught us boys how to make flowers and animals, but if you ask Clayton, he'll deny ever being able to do it," I said smirking.
    She pulled out an apple I didn't know we had and handed it to me. "Can you make me something?"
    I nodded and grabbed a paring knife, getting to work on the apple. I made a quick little butterfly for her, and she smiled. "I can do fancier, but I'm kind of hungry," I said and took a few chips off my plate, shoving them into my mouth.
    "You eat a lot more now," she said, as we ate quietly at the table. I looked up at her, surprised she was talking to me.
    "I guess I know my momma will be expecting me to, so I just do. I don't want to disappoint her."
    She nodded her head, but I didn't think she fully understood my momma's need to feed people. There was a reason she ran a restaurant.
    I heard the heavy thumping of boots and knew my brother would be bursting through my door any moment. "It's just Clayton," I reassured her as I got up.
    He rapped on the door, making the whole damn wall shake, and my poor little Emma jumped. "He isn't mad. He just doesn't know his own strength."
    I opened the door, stepping outside, and Clayton frowned. "What do you need, Clay?"
    He pulled out a bag from the candy shop under his apartment. "I brought some candy for your wife. I felt bad for scaring her."
    "It might also help if you don't stomp up here and bang on the door like you're trying to knock down the wall. You're a bear of a man, Clay. You're going to scare her."
    "Why isn't she scared of you?"
    "She was. It took quite a while for her to get used to me."
    "Can I see her, please? I promise I'll be good and keep my mouth shut."
    The door opened behind us, and there stood Emma, looking at the pair of us. Clayton waved like an idiot. "Hey, Ms. Emma, I brought you some candy. Faye thought you'd like them. She owns the