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She lived in an old farmhouse situated on the edge of town, close enough to walk the near half-mile to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries, but not be bothered by the traffic of the main crossroads in town. I liked to watch the cars and eighteen wheelers loaded down with lumber from our mills as they passed in front of the house and wonder about their destination. It certainly wasn't here. My town was just a convenient stop to fuel up and grab some soda or coffee before hitting the interstate about thirty miles down the road. License plates from states near and far, mostly from those along the I-95 corridor, passed through, perhaps avoiding the traffic along the interstate or possibly enjoying a more scenic rural route.
I moved to my living room and sank down on the couch and remembered some of her old-fashioned but valuable wisdom.
"Where d’ya think they’re travelin' today?" Gammy asked in her Tidewater accent, playing along with my game of imagining where all those people were going. When I was little, I guess I had combined the words 'grandmother' and 'mommy' in my head, and Gammy was the result. It stuck.
"That minivan," I pointed, "is gonna hit 95 and take it all the way south to Florida. The three kids in the back are gonna get to go to Disney. I bet their parents are wishing they had ear plugs the way those kids were carrying on in the back. Wherever they're going, they're lucky." I shrugged as if it was no big deal, but she looked sharply at me.
"How do you know that?"
"Cause they're not stuck here."
"Every dog has a few fleas, child. You don’t like it here, that’s fine, but whatcha gonna do about it? Don't go wastin' your time wishin' on somethin' and then do nothin’ ‘bout it. Make use of what you do have or find a way to change it." Her sigh matched the weariness in her blue-grey eyes. "Lawd knows life ain't been easy for you, sweet child. But you got your mama's smarts. Keep on workin' hard at school, and maybe you'll be in one of those cars some day."
I rolled my eyes at her. "I know, I know. When life throws you lemons, make lemonade."
"Naw, child. You need to think bigger! When life throws you lemons, plant the seeds an' grow an orchard."
I wrapped my arms around my knees smiled sadly as I remembered her simple philosophy. I tried, Gammy. I really did, but I messed up and stepped in some deep shit.
Trees take time, child. They don't grow overnight. And sometimes a little manure helps them grow.
Her voice was so loud in my head I looked around as if she was there in the room with me. I shook my head to clear it and glanced again at the television. It was a commercial, oddly enough advertising a lemon juice, so fresh it was as if it was plucked straight from the lemon trees themselves.
I shivered. A sign? Divine intervention? Whatever, it was a good reminder that it was up to me what happened from now on. I was in charge of planning what happened in my life. And I knew I could only count on me. Trusting others was setting myself up for a let-down.
I reread Mr. M's letter and thumbed through the stack of ten dollar bills the firm had generously advanced me to help me get started until I earned my first paycheck. Two hundred dollars; a paltry amount to some, but a windfall to me. I'd never seen that much money at one time, much less been in charge of it. However, I was realistic enough to know I needed to be careful about how I spent it.
Included in my packet were a bus schedule and a fare card. Mr. M had been very thorough in thinking through my needs. However, unlike my earlier adventure outside, the idea of being in crowds of people left a pit in my stomach. Too many things could hide in crowds: bullies, weapons...judgments. But, this wasn't my hometown or prison. This was a new city with people who didn't know me, so it was time to embrace my new opportunity.
Self pep-talk over, I scooped up a few of the bills, the bus pass, my keys, and a fresh outlook and headed out.
I hit the jackpot when I discovered a thrift store at the second bus stop, and I was now the proud owner of a few more pants and blouses I thought would be suitable for work, as well as two more pairs of jeans and a couple of pairs of flats that I could wear to work and look nice but be comfortable. I'd even found an umbrella and a nice coat that I knew I'd need as the fall days grew colder.
Next to the thrift store was a dollar store where I purchased some toiletries, a paperback novel and a few other odds and ends. I even splurged on a couple of chocolate candy bars to celebrate my release. It wasn't the way most people celebrated, but I didn't drink, and candy was cheaper than alcohol anyway. I was proud of my purchases, and my frugalness had only put a small dent into the allowance I'd been provided.
Earlier I'd studied the maps and bus routes and decided to familiarize myself with the offices of McCloskey, Barnes, and Wilson. I had even convinced myself to enter the impressive granite building that housed the law firm, but as the bus pulled along the curb, I noticed a familiar face exit through the glass doors. Holten Andrews had his arm around the back of a dark-haired woman.
I stayed put in my seat as I watched him pop up an umbrella to shield her from the drizzle that had begun to fall again. She smiled up at him. She was gorgeous; even through the thick bus window, I could see her perfectly applied makeup. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves around her face and over a colorful scarf wrapped fashionably around her neck. Her clothes were hidden beneath a smart-looking red coat, but I'm sure they were as classy as the rest of her appearance. Suddenly, my purchases I'd been so excited over moments ago seemed frumpy and bland.
His returned smile lit up his face as he said something before guiding her down the street, his arm still around her back. If I'd thought him handsome before, he was devastatingly gorgeous when he smiled. Not that fake smile he gave me, but one that lit up his face as he gazed down upon his beautiful companion. I slumped down in my seat as my fingers reached up and twirled a lock of my hair, trying to smooth its frizziness.
I was irritated at the pangs of envy I felt. Even as I reminded myself that I didn't need someone else to be happy, I wondered what it would be like to see such devotion gazing back at me. But that was probably no longer in my future. Who would want someone with my past? Besides, men like Holten Andrews never gave a second look at girls like me. I sighed and waited for the bus to pull away and complete its route. I had to focus on finding what I was going to do with my life.
Back at home, I took out one of the pads of paper I’d just bought and began a list.
1. Look at classifieds for nighttime job
2. Get catalog for classes from community college
3. Open a bank account
4. Make a budget
Before I could question my motivation, I quickly scribbled another note.
5. Get a haircut, buy some makeup
As I chewed on the eraser end of my pencil, there was a knock on the door. I couldn't imagine who would visit me. I swallowed hard and hesitated. Not knowing who was on the other side of that door, or what they wanted, made me nervous.
