I Don't Believe in Happily Ever After - Part Two by L. A. Keller
“I gave up on happily
ever after. Maybe I'm not cut out for a relationship. Maybe, I just don't like
being committed to one person for longer than two weeks.”
Part Two
Clare rolled her small suitcase down the narrow hallway to
the bedroom that had once been her mother’s. Not much had changed over the
years. The twin-sized iron bed was covered in a faded quilt handmade by her
grandmother. The blue ribbons, Clare’s mother, Sunny won in the county fair for
her prized hogs, hung from yellowed clothesline strung between the windows.
She tugged open the closet door, warped from years of
humidity without air conditioning and stashed her suitcase inside. Already she knew this trip would be more
difficult than she wanted. It was only months since her grandfather had passed
and she could tell Granny was not ready for what she had in mind. Her hopes of
convincing Granny to sell the farm and move to the city faded as quickly as
sunlight over the meadow.
Mae stood in the doorway. “Come on sweetie. Let’s eat these
cookies before they’re cool. Nothing is better with a cold glass of iced tea than
warm from the oven cookies.”
“Okay, Granny, but I’m on a diet so I can have only one.”
Clare knew the words fell on deaf ears. Granny enjoyed
nothing better than seeing someone clean her plate. Salad wasn’t something that was eaten on a
farm as a meal. The work started at sunup and the only breaks were for hearty,
stick-to-your-bones (and rear end) meals—fried chicken, mashed potatoes with
gravy and homemade biscuits. Her mouth watered at the memory and her stomach
growled.
She followed Mae and the smell of freshly baked Mississippi Mud cookies into the 1950’s kitchen. Mae poured them each a glass of
iced tea and they sat at the ancient Formica topped table.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Child, you’re
getting skinny. I’m glad you came so I can put some weight on those bones. No
man likes a girl who doesn’t know how to eat.” Mae shook her finger at Clare
and pushed the plate of cookies closer.
Clare chewed her bottom lip, her fingers twitched with the
desire to take another cookie. She knew, from hours with her personal trainer,
that food wouldn’t fill the emptiness she felt inside, but so far, no man had
accomplished that feat either. She pushed the plate away and stood abruptly. Clare wondered if marriage was the answer or not.
“Why don’t we take a walk and you can show me what’s been
happening around here.” Clare took Mae’s
arm and they strolled down the dirt path from the kitchen door to the barn. A
tractor engine rumbled through the distant field and the dust of fresh cut hay
tickled her nose.
Unconsciously she patted the tire swing as they walked under
the massive oak that marked the end of the area designated as yard. She smiled
at the memory of herself at age seven swinging Tarzan style with her childhood
crush, Wyatt McClintock, who lived on the neighboring farm. On a dare from
Wyatt she let go and when she landed in the dirt some twenty feet away, her arm
was broken in two places. That boy was trouble from the first time they met.
She wondered what ever happened to him. He hadn’t come to her granddad’s
funeral, although she was sure his family still lived in the area.
Chickens skittered out of the way as they approached the
barn. Clare smiled at the thought of how her friends would be shocked to see the
country girl who ran all summer long with dirty bare feet, jeans and long hair
in pigtails. They knew her as she was now, sleek, short hair with highlights,
stilettos and business suits. That other girl was long gone.
Happy Trails,
Leslie
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