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“G’night, Dixie Cup. See ya on Monday. I’m missing you already.” Jake made sure that sweet smile was on her mind when he drove away. Dixie sighed and sat down on the steps, taking a while to stare up at the dark canvas stretching out over her head. She pictured herself floating up into the sky, drifting around the stars, sinking into a cloud. The image was even better when she imagined Jake by her side. She started to nod off and almost fell off the steps. Time for bed. She went inside, put on her pajamas, and slipped under the covers. The window was open, letting a cool breeze slip in to play with her hair. The hum of the crickets in the field was a lullaby, carrying her away. Her Golden Retriever prize was tucked tight in her arms, her first animal friend for bedtime.
That night, she dreamed of Mama. They were in the meadow Dixie had run to the week before except this time it was day time. The sun was high overhead, the tall grasses were a deep green, and the wild flowers were popping up everywhere, blossoms of white, pink, yellow, and blue. Dixie felt like she had been walking forever when she reached the middle and stood still, wrapped up in a warm breeze. She was waiting, but for what?
“Jamie, love, I’m here.” It was Mama’s voice, that same sweet sound she knew so well but with something new added to it…pure happiness. Dixie turned around, blinded by the sun. She blinked, squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again and Mama was there, more beautiful than she’d ever been in their life together. Her big, blue eyes—Dixie’s eyes—were bright with no more shadows left by Owen. Her hair was a dark, shining tumble, past her shoulders with a daisy tucked behind her ear. A simple, white dress floated in the soft wind. Her feet were bare and she stepped lightly, almost walking on air.
“Mama? I’ve missed you so much. Why did you have to leave, Mama?” Dixie felt the burning of tears, fought them only to let them fall. The sobs broke loose, shaking her to her core. Her mother opened her arms and gathered her in, holding on tight.
“Let it all go, sweetheart, let it go. I’m so sorry for all those wasted years, all the hurts. I should have protected you better. That’s a Mama’s job. I’m so proud of you, doing what I never could. I didn’t want to leave you, baby, but my body just couldn’t fight any longer. You’re going to be all right. You’re strong enough to do what I never could. Remember, I’m always watching and I love you so much. This is the Lord’s day. Do something wonderful with it. That’s what Grandma used to say.”
She rested her hand, soft and warm, on Dixie’s cheek then dropped a feather kiss on her lips. Their time together only lasted a moment before Mama slipped away, heading toward the sun. She was joined by the silhouette of a man who took her hand and then her head leaned against his. They both turned back to look at Dixie and waved. Dixie knew who it was. She had seen old photographs, could feel it in her gut. It was her daddy.
Dixie ran after them. “I will do something good with today, I promise, and every day. But wait, Mama, Daddy…I love you so much. Let me come with you. Don’t go, please!” No matter how she ran, she couldn’t catch up. They became two shadows that faded into the sun and the meadow disappeared. Dixie awoke to find herself in her bed in tangle of sheets, cheeks wet with tears once again.
She had heard that lost loved ones often came back in a dream. Dixie hoped that was true. It had felt so real. She reached up and felt her cheek where Mama had touched her and could swear she still felt the warmth of her hand. She had thought of Mama often since she had died but couldn’t feel her presence. It had seemed that Mama was gone completely until that night. In the early morning light, she seemed closer than ever. Dixie hugged herself and smiled at the memory. Mama was so happy! And Daddy…finally they were back together again, where they belonged. It didn’t matter that Dixie was on her own. She could live with that as long as Mama and Daddy would be waiting for her someday. She curled up in a ball, holding on to her puppy dog prize, and rebuilt the dream from the beginning.
The early morning light slid into dawn. Dixie knew what she wanted to do with this day. It was the Lord’s day and she would start on the right foot in His house. She took extra care with her appearance that morning, scrubbing hard in the shower, making sure she was clean. It wouldn’t do to have a speck of dirt in church. Searching her closet, she chose a dress Sue Ellen gave her. She’d outgrown it about age twelve or so and passed along the item in question and a bag of others because ‘after all, honey, I’m not fittin’ in those clothes by no stretch of the imagination.’ It reminded Dixie of Mama’s in her dream. Her hair was tamed with gel and pulled back in a simple braid. Just a hint of makeup and she was ready.
The walk on the back, country road was quiet except for the bird song and chorus of crickets. Turning into the lane of the little, white church, Dixie paused for a moment. Her only memory of church was one time with Mama when she was very small. It was Christmas Eve and the place was lit with candles, draped in greens, and filled with music from the choir. It was their last Christmas before Owen. Dixie had been mesmerized by the children re-enacting Baby Jesus’s birth in the manger. At the end of the service, she even broke away from her mother to touch the baby doll to see if it was real. Mama had laughed and they went for dessert and hot chocolate in the diner where Mama worked, then went home. The next morning, Dixie woke up to find out Santa had left her a baby doll just like the one at church. She’d called it Jesus and went to bed with it every night. After Owen came, she held it close when she hid in the closet and she prayed Baby Jesus would take her and Mama away from that place. He only took Mama.
Aggravated with herself for crying again, Dixie wiped her eyes, picked up her chin, and resolutely strode on to the church. She didn’t look back or think about her life before. Dixie Mason had no past, only the present and a future like a mystery package coming on her doorstep and no idea what was in it . She stepped inside to find a crowd of people already seated in the pews. A choir in robes of white trimmed in gold stood at the front with a large, wooden cross hanging on the wall for everyone to keep their focus. Her first temptation was to be a quiet mouse and sneak into a pew in the back but she stiffened her spine and headed to the front. She had just as much a right to be here as everyone else and she wanted to be up front, in the middle of everything, where she could feel closer to the Lord and His messengers.
Jake sat in the family pew, on the right, in the front row. His family had sat in this pew for at least four generations going back. He tugged at the tie that threatened to strangle him and straightened up from a slouch when he caught his mother’s eye. What torture it had been as a boy to sit in an itchy suit with the mandatory tie on those hard, wooden seats for what felt like an eternity, listening to the preacher drone on and on. Time actually seemed to stand still, to go backward even, as he daydreamed of being anywhere else. Where were the likes of Tom and Huck now? When the preacher mentioned the fires of hell, Jake couldn’t help thinking it had to be more interesting.
As he got older, he’d like to believe he had the maturity to appreciate the value of church. It built character, his granddaddy would always say. That might be so but Jake still wished he could be elsewhere, say with a particular girl with fire in her hair and the sky in her eyes. Something made him glance behind him and there she was, standing in the aisle, straight out of his head, searching for a seat. She looked like an angel in a white dress with nothing fancy about it except for the fact that she was wearing it. That alone made her look good. He nudged his mother who sat beside him. She followed his gaze, her face brightening with a smile, and whispered in her husband’s ear. James Jackson nodded and with an echo of his son’s smile, stood up and gave Dixie a slight bow.
Dixie lit up like a candle. There was no other way to describe her. She spoke softly, thanking the tall man who looked incredibly handsome in his white suit and pale blue shirt. Dixie knew—this was what Jake would look like i
n twenty years. She slipped past him, accepted a hug from Sara Jackson, and dropped down in the empty spot beside Jake. “Good morning, Jake. I’m surprised to see you up so early after our late night at the fair.”
“Shoot, sugar gal, it don’t matter none how late I was up. Even if I didn’t sleep all night, I would be expected to go to church. It’s a true Southerner’s obligation to pay respects to the Lord on Sunday. The only time I ever missed mass, I was sick as a dog. Even then, I tried to make it out the door but passed out from the fever on my way down the steps. Mama near tanned my hide after that and made me promise never to pull a stunt like that again or she’d kill me. Up and dyin’ wouldn’t make the Lord happy.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he peeked at his mother to see if she was listening. She shook a scolding finger at him, proving he should have known better. She was a mother. She saw all, heard all, and knew all.
The choir began, stopping conversation, and practically lifting Dixie from her seat, their voices were that pure and sweet. The preacher, young and filled with enthusiasm, spoke from the bottom of his heart. Dixie was certain souls were saved every time someone listened to the man. By the time it was over, she vowed she would live a better life, knowing the preacher could see straight to her heart. If he could see, then definitely God could too. She felt her cheeks grow hot and her stomach begin to churn. How would God feel about her lying about her name, changing her looks, leaving her step-father behind? She’d have to wait until the Day of Reckoning to find out.
Jake offered his arm as they stepped into the aisle, a chivalrous gesture that recalled days of old. He took note of her change in color and frowned in concern. “Dixie, are you feeling all right, sugar?” They walked outside to be met by a wall of heat and light. He laid a hand on top of hers, giving her a connection.
Dixie raised a hand to shield her eyes and become accustomed to the contrast from the darker interior of the church. “Oh, I’m fine. I think the heat’s getting to me a little. I’m still not quite used to this after living up north in the cold for so long.” They had no idea how cold it had been, in every way.
James Jackson laid a hand on her shoulders in a fatherly manner. “What you need is a good meal in a pleasantly cool atmosphere. Won’t you join us for lunch? We always have room for one more at the table.” He smiled at her encouragingly and waited expectantly.
Sara linked her arm with Dixie’s, forming a chain with her son. “Dixie, we insist. Please come. We’d all enjoy your company.” She met her son’s eyes and read his message loud and clear. Complete agreement was the only way to interpret the bolt of green he sent along with that honey dripping, stomach dropping, breath-catching smile, a smile that not only worked on Dixie. It had been perfected on melting the heart of a mother.
Dixie let herself be carried away by their kindness. “I’d like that very much.” She felt Sara give her arm a reassuring squeeze then watched her walk ahead, arm and arm with her husband. One couldn’t help but admire the couple. They carried themselves with grace and confidence, like a king and queen in a fairy tale. Why wouldn’t they? Both were attractive, had the benefit of wealth, heritage, and education. Dixie would do her best to emulate them but she knew she didn’t have a chance in ever being their equals.
A white Cadillac sat in the shade of a tree. Jake opened the door for Dixie, a mirror image of his father paying the same courtesy to his mother. Jake slid in next to Dixie in the back seat, his father settled himself behind the wheel, and they took a pleasant drive through the country on winding roads, enjoying the scenery and light conversation. Dixie’s jaw dropped when they turned into a tree-lined drive that seemed to go on forever, a canopy of leaves forming high overhead that covered them with shade and dapples of sunlight. The lane finally opened up in front of a gorgeous, Southern estate. It towered above them, a majestic queen of architecture in white with black trim and pillars lining the porch. “Wow!” Dixie murmured, unable to say more. At any moment, she expected to see ladies in dresses that formed bells around them with parasols, hanging on the arms of men in suits that looked like the colonel from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Jake couldn’t help but laugh at her expression, but when he spoke it was with great reverence. “Yes, it’s something. This is the real deal, a Southern plantation home. As I mentioned before, most of them were burnt, ransacked, and they’re long gone. All that remains are paintings or the tales of old men and women passed down by their ancestors. Whispering Willows still stands mainly because the family that owned it banded together and fought those damn Yankees—pardon the expression.” He raised his eyebrows apologetically. “I hear Mrs. Willows even threw potatoes. Whatever they had on hand, they made do. It’s a Southern thing.”
Looking at Jake’s tall, strong body, with his shoulders held firm and his eyes glowing with pride, Dixie had no doubt that he could hold his own ground with whatever he had within reach. Home, family, and his values were things he held dear and he’d defend them with all that he had. Definitely a Southern thing. Dixie stared at the home before her and the close-knit family at her side and wished more than anything she could go back in time to see the Confederacy in its true glory. It had to be quite the sight to behold.
James held out an arm for Sara to take and he escorted her up the stairway to the door that was held open by a man in a white suit. Jake waited expectantly for Dixie until she followed suit. Shaking her head in wonder, she followed his parents inside a grand entryway with a huge chandelier dangling overhead. Hold that thought about the past; the present was amazing in itself. The man in white, quite distinguished with a sweep of dark hair streaked with silver, led them through a formal dining room out to the veranda. Several other diners were already seated while a piano played softly in the corner, adding to the atmosphere. He seated each woman and bowed to the men. “I am Louis, your maître‘d. Robert, your waiter will be with you presently but if you have anything you need, come see me.” The words flowed out, taking their sweet time, dropping down low. What was it about a Southern accent?
Jake loved the dazed expression on Dixie’s face. “How do you like it, sugar gal?” He made a sweeping gesture of the tables draped in fine linen with fresh flowers and candles burning on every one. From beyond the veranda, there was an incredible, lush garden and lawn stretching to a river. Jake’s parents were patient, giving the girl time to find her voice.
“This is the most beautiful place. I’ve never been to any place like it. I never even went to a restaurant before in my life, unless you count McDonald’s. Mama took me there, once or twice.” She turned to them with wide eyes, the eyes of a child dazzled by the wonders of the world.
Jake took her hand, his heart suddenly hurting. To have never gone to a restaurant. Things like that would pop out of her mouth, have him running into a brick wall, stumped on how to climb it. “I’m going to have to remedy that and take you to all the good places around here. Mind you, they aren’t all fancy, are they, Daddy?”
James laughed, his green eyes twinkling. “Oh no! Wait until you try Big Mama’s Catch of the Day! That place is rough around the edges but it’s the best place for hush puppies and fresh fish. Do you remember the first time we went there, Sara?”
Sara smiled, looking like a young girl again as she pressed a hand to his chest. “I wanted to kill you! I’d never set foot in such a disgrace! The shack looked like it was about to fall down, we were the only white people there—I thought they’d lynch us—and then the boy cleaning tables dumped my drink down my blouse. That first date was almost our last!”
James took her hand then, his expression softening in memory of that day. “Until you had your first bite and you were done for. I’ll never forget it. I was hooked on you, right from the start. You have no idea how beautiful you looked, steaming mad and drenched in iced tea. What did make you stay long enough for the meal to arrive?”
His wife became lost in her hus
band’s gaze. “Because you had me from the beginning. Watching you in that place, looking like you were in your element, at home no matter where you went or who you were with. Never too high or afraid to get down low. You made yourself belong. I was afraid that if I walked away, somebody else would settle right in like two peas in a pod.”
James leaned forward to brush her cheek with his lips. “Never. You’ve got me for good, darling.’ You can’t shake me because I’m stuck on you like bees swarmin’ around the honey.” They were interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, a handsome blonde man also dressed in white with a royal blue vest that made him very dashing. Jake’s parents broke apart, laughing softly, and turned their attention to the menu.
Dixie placed her order, a feat in itself with the wide variety of selections, then sat back and soaked the place in. She attempted to concentrate and make conversation when Jake or his parents spoke to her, but mostly, she was quiet, lost in thought. She found herself drawn time and again to Jake’s parents, the way they looked at one another, their caring words and gestures. There was no doubt that the son had learned from two, excellent role models. A lump formed in Dixie’s throat, making it hard to swallow and her eyes inexplicably filled with tears. “Please excuse me,” she murmured and rushed away from the table.
Jake stood up, ready to go after her, when his mother touched his arm. “Let me see if I can help,” she told him and followed the younger woman’s retreating figure. Sara walked into the bathroom to hear the sound of soft crying from one of the stalls. She stood by the door and touched it, wishing she could reach inside and stop the hurting. “Dixie, honey, are you all right? What can I do to help?”
Dixie cleared her throat and stepped outside, wiping at her cheeks, trying to hide the evidence. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jackson. This is so nice of all of you. I don’t mean to ruin your afternoon. You’ve been nothing but good to me, treating me like a princess. I feel like I’m getting every little girl’s dream but I don’t belong here. I keep expecting you’ll realize that and show me the door.”
She looked so sad, so lost. Sara’s heart went out to her. She looped an arm around Dixie’s waist and led her over to the wicker sofa in the sitting room attached to the Ladies’ Room. “You are wrong about that one, sweetheart. The good Lord brought you our way and our son needs you like the very air that he breathes. Let’s take a moment so you can collect your thoughts. Something has upset you. What is it, honey?”
The comfort and closeness of a mother, someone Dixie missed terribly, were too much. The tears, barely stopped, started flowing again. “It’s just…I sit and watch you and Mr. Jackson…and I think of Mama. That’s how it was supposed to be for her, how people should treat one another. She should have had that instead of…that monster. I think that’s why she died…it was a broken heart. I should have done something, should have reported him, should have made her leave. Why didn’t I do something?”
Sara took a delicate handkerchief, a bit of lacy nonsense, from her purse and handed it to Dixie and gathered her hand in her own, struggling to keep her own voice steady. “Honey, you were only a child. You were afraid and didn’t know where to turn. It’s not your fault or your mother’s. The blame rests on your step-father and the many people in your life that should have done something. Don’t waste another moment tearing yourself apart. We can’t bring back your mother. We can’t do anything about the past. But I’ll promise you one thing, Dixie Cup,” Jake’s endearment brought a smile in return. “We’re going to do everything in our power—Mr. Jackson, myself, and Jake especially—to make now and what’s next as wonderful as you.”
Dixie fell into her arms. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Mrs. Jackson. You’re good people who pay it forward. It’s something new for me to get used to.” They took a few minutes to regain their composure. Dixie felt lighter as they walked back out to the table and made sure she wore a smile.
Jake pulled out her chair, his beautiful eyes centered only on her. “Are you all right, sugar gal?” He’d been taking in a lesson in patience from his father. Prepared to barge into the ladies’ room in one swoop, James suggested his son have better sense. Seeing Dixie’s red-rimmed eyes did something to his insides. There’d be no more reason for crying, that was his vow, a promise he made to himself as her dress rustled beside him and the breeze played with a strand of her hair against her cheek. What he wouldn’t give to be the breeze, easy and free, able to carry her away.
“I am now. Your mother is an amazing woman.” She sent an appreciative smile across the table to Jake’s parents. His hand found hers and gave her a squeeze. Amazing appeared to run in the family.
Jake nodded toward his mother, reverence in his words and gaze. “All that I am and all that I hope to be I owe to my mother. Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. He must have been a smart man. More Mamas like you in the world and there’d be no more wars.”
Sara blushed and waved him away. “You unbelievable charmer, you!” Their waiter arrived at that moment to deliver tantalizing dishes and refill their drinks. The table grew quiet as everyone devoted their attention to an incredible meal. After appetizers, salad and dinner, a dessert cart arrived with treats that looked too good to possibly turn down even though everyone was stuffed. Dixie studied everyone’s behavior, where to put the napkin, which fork to use when, how to sit up straight. Jake continued to send her into a tailspin. He might only be 19 years old but he was much wiser, wearing responsibility and his heritage well. The give and take in conversation with his parents, the ease of shifting from topics of business at the store and the national news—she could hardly keep up and yet, being with Jake put her at ease. Dixie needed a grown-up because she had grown up fast herself.
They walked out of the restaurant at four o’clock , barely able to move. James suggested a walk on the grounds, through the gardens and down to the river. They sat down on benches by the water, enjoying a gentle breeze and the beautiful willows drooping into the river that gave the old plantation its name. Swans drifted by, so beautiful they almost made Dixie cry again. Everything was too much. It actually hurt.
James leaned back and toyed with his wife’s dark hair, so like his son’s. “So, darlin’, what would you like to do on the rest of this blessed day?” His words were slow and lazy. In no hurry to let the day end, he was willing to make it stretch. The means to that end was up to his wife.
Sara let herself sink into his supporting arm. “Going home and being sinfully idle sounds perfect to me. We can go out on the patio, share a chaise lounge. I do believe that is what the Lord intended after working hard all week. How about you kids?”
Jake sat with his arm around Dixie, mesmerized by the sunlight setting fire to her hair as it was caught by the breeze. “Mmmm, I can’t think right now, I’m so full and sleepy…wait a minute. How about the drive-in movies? There’s a good double-feature and plenty of popcorn. What do you say, Dixie Cup?”
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Jake dropped by Nichols’ Lane that afternoon in the work pick-up. Before the movies, they took a detour into the small, neighboring town of Gerrardstown. He had done his homework and pulled up in front of a sweet cottage in the village, set back against the trees. He nodded his head in appreciation, pulling out his pride. “This little mouse of a house may not look like much but it’s a historical landmark, sugar gal. Turns out you’ve got some strong Southern roots tying you down and they started growing right here. Take a look at your great grandmama’s place. It was built by Calvin William’s, a very distinguished soldier in the Southern war. He saved an entire company of men and lost his leg to boot.”
He took pause long enough to bow his head in recognition to a venerable ancestry. “I checked the records and this was Grace William’s place. Calvin was her husband’s grandfather. It stayed in the family for a short time and then it was sold. You’ve go
t something to be proud of, just like me. A piece of you belongs here. No wonder you’re blooming where you planted.”
Dixie got out of the truck, walked up to the white, picket fence and let it hold her for a while. The wood was warmed by the sun, strong beneath her hands. Hold on long enough and maybe some would rub off along with the past. She pictured a white-haired woman in an apron rocking on the steps, shelling peas, and a brown-haired little imp of a girl running through the yard, barefoot, wearing a smile that was competing with the strawberry jam on her face. Dixie felt a shift, a little peace finding a way in, full circle in the place where Mama had found happiness. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jake standing by the truck, giving her privacy. She reached a hand out to him and he came forward to take it. “Thank you. You are so sweet going out of the way to track bits of the past down for me. How can I ever repay you?”
Jake shrugged. “It’s nothing, sugar gal. History was my favorite subject and I eat up anything I can about the South. Now in days gone by, a girl would have given a boy a token of her favor, a hanky or a perfumed note. How about a little ol’ kiss to tide me over for now?” Dixie stood up on tiptoe, happy to oblige.
The minutes slid one into another until they didn’t know where the time went, something that tended to happen a lot when they were together. Dixie found herself in the work pick-up truck at the local drive in that night. Excitement bubbled up, making her tap her feet and fidget in her seat on another round of firsts—her first movie with a boy and first trip to a drive-in. Dusk was skipping into darkness when Dixie stood in line with Jake for popcorn and sodas. She slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. Just a final dab of lip gloss and swish of the brush through her hair until she’d be back by Jake’s side when an unwelcome voice was heard leaving a stall.
“Well, well…if it isn’t the incredibly over-rated Miss Dixie Mason. I saw you come in with Jake and I must tell you, he is way out of your league, honey. The Jacksons are a true Southern family that only marries into other equally wealthy, well-bred Southern families. They’ve never gone with an outsider and they’re certainly not going with a gaudy, glitzy excuse for a lady like you. A northerner of all things unspeakable! You’d better walk away before you embarrass yourself.” Carole Sue’s words practically dripped venom. She stepped up to the sink next to Dixie, crowding her and practically pushing her out of the way.
Dixie had no doubt—the girl would claw her eyes out if she could get away with it. What Carole Sue didn’t know was Dixie had sprouted a good set of sharp claws of her own. She pushed herself up against the Southern belle and stared her down, sparks spitting from her eyes. “Let’s get something straight, Miss Carole Sue. I’ve been stepped on and put down for most of my life but I promised myself I won’t let that happen ever again and definitely not from some annoying little bug like you. So let me make myself very clear,” Dixie’s voice dropped low and she jabbed a finger at Carole Sue’s ample chest. “I didn’t choose Jake, he chose me, something that obviously put a bee in your bonnet because you can’t have him. You already lost your chance, long before I kicked up any dust in this town. Truth be told, you’re not good enough for him so back off and find someone as miserable as yourself to sit on your high horse with you. I’m sure you’ll both fall off soon enough.” Dixie turned and marched out of the bathroom, her cheeks flaming and breathing hard. She didn’t look back but held her head high like the Confederate flag waving next to Jackson’s General, a rallying sign any time her spirits dropped down to her shoes.
Jake eyed her suspiciously. “All right, what happened, sugar-gal? Something’s got your goat.” He glanced from left to right, looking for trouble. It didn’t take him long to find it in the form of Carole Sue and her minions, sending dagger eyes their way. He reached for the handle. Somebody had to put them in their place.
Dixie grabbed his arm. “Stay. I’ve dealt with it already. There was just an annoying gnat in the rest room. I stomped on it and I don’t think she will bother me again.” She slid closer to Jake, shared his soda and let him rest his arm on her shoulders. She made sure to give Carole Sue an eye-full when she pressed her lips to Jake’s in a kiss that was hot enough to melt butter.
Laura Bell shook her head in disgust, sitting in between Carole Sue and Bobbi Jo in Carole Sue’s daddy’s Mercedes. “How can you stand it, Carole Sue? That no good hussy with the likes of Jake Jackson. It’s plain wrong. Somebody has got to knock that girl down a few pegs, put her in her place.”
Bobbi Jo took a noisy slurp of her drink and crinkled her nose. “Really, when we all know you’ve always had your heart set on him. What’s wrong with him anyway? You two would make the perfect couple. Why, everyone has married you two off since you started to walk.”
Carole Sue stared at the two across the way, still locked together, and anger burned in the pit of her stomach. A sip of her drink did nothing to cool her down. She could practically feel the steam coming off of the top of her head. “It’s not Jake’s fault that witch has got him under her spell. Don’t you worry, girls. I’ll take care of her. Somehow, someway, she’ll get what she deserves and we’ll run that Yankee tail back up to the northern side of the tracks.”
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Owen made it as far as Maryland on a broken-down bus. He had the clothes on his back, enough money for a few meals, and a thumb for hitching rides. The wall of heat was nearly unbearable, almost doing him in after New York’s bite. How did they live like this? Moving forward, the days ran into one another while the nights were spent sleeping in the hay of an open barn or under a tree. He walked along back country roads, taking twice as long. It was too dangerous to stay on the interstate. The skies opened up. Why should he expect otherwise, the way his life was going since Laura left him? Because that was what she had done, in his mind. She had deserted him and then...that blasted girl abandoned him too. It was his duty as her parent to hunt her down and teach her a lesson.
Nine cars out of ten passed him by, but he managed to get rides and slowly make his way until he crossed the border into West Virginia. A bus had a flat tire on the side of the road. Owen offered to change it for a ride, making it that much closer to his destination. But first...he needed a sleep and a drink or two. Who was he kidding? He needed a whole bottle. He forked over the last of his money ,really going in style to sleep in a dive with a cheap bottle of rotgut to see him through the night.