AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Viridity
(N.) Naïve Innocence
Reaching forward, I stack another book in the correct place and breathe a sigh of relief. My days don’t suck quite as much when I’m scheduled to work; it’s when I’m home that I get to thinking. I try to watch TV sometimes to keep my mind occupied, but I just don’t care for it much. My online courses tend to keep me busy a lot of the time, but it all boils down to being home alone.
My mother was never around much, but she was occasionally, and she always had her friends with her or her flavor of the week. I never looked forward to them though—most were total creeps. Well, except the latest. I learned not to expect much out of her, and in return, she was the same way with me. Not the perfect mother-daughter relationship, but it was ours.
The craziest part of this last guy that my mom brought home is his name is Sinner. I refuse to call him that though. The first time he told me what to do, a snarky comeback popped to the front of my mind, and it started the nickname Daddy. It drives him crazy—I know it does—but that’s part of the fun of it.
And Lord help me, the man is sinful looking. His voice is a lazy rasp, his words drawn out like a true Southerner. I love listening to him speak or just watching him breathe. That sounds totally creepy, but it’s true. He’s gorgeous just living, not doing anything. Some mornings I’ll even catch a peek of him putting his shirt on straight from the shower; my imagination loves to run wild with that.
Most of the men before him, I flat out ignored or tried to have minimal amount of interaction with as possible. Their attention wasn’t the good kind, and I didn’t want any of them to think they could cross the not-so-subtle line I’d drawn between us. I was lucky in that department, and they stayed away.
There were lewd comments here and there as to be expected, but that was the extent of it. However, there were plenty of nights I didn’t sleep—worried I’d have unwanted company. Thankfully, none ever crossed the threshold, or I’m sure I’d be a totally different person than I am today, and not in the good sense.
Besides all of that and the fact my mother was always messed up on something, I miss just knowing someone else is in the house. Sharing a pizza or hearing the radio play from her side of the trailer always gave me just enough comfort to not need much more from her. It gets quiet, and when it gets too quiet, I go a little crazy inside. Pretty ironic considering I do online classes and work in a library. You’d think I’d be the type that wouldn’t want any interaction with other people, but that’s not the case.
I speak to a few of the older ladies that stop by regularly to either check out books or to donate them and also to Carissa down at the corner Stop N Shop. The only other real human contact I have is when Sinner stops by to check in on me. I don’t know why he took it upon himself to do it, but I’d be a bit more lost if he hadn’t. His visits give me something to look forward to—if only there were more of them.
My mother’s always come and gone as she’s pleased, especially once I got older and could pretty much look after myself. The kicker was, I wasn’t expecting her to decide to not come back home. Ever. She’s been gone for months...part of me wonders if she’s dead in a ditch somewhere having gone off with another bad man. I wouldn’t know the first place to go searching for her either if I did want to attempt to hunt her down.
I honestly can’t say it would surprise me if she was dead. Would I be sad? Who knows; I barely saw her before. I like to imagine I would be, but I’m also a realist. It sounds horrible, someone not mourning their mother, but she never much deserved that title.
“All set, Mrs. Muncey?” I enquire kindly and smile up at the seventy-year-old senior who has an addiction to smut books.
I enjoy when she stops by the library. I could talk about books all day—not to mention her outfits. She shows up wearing the most random things. Sometimes she looks as if she stepped straight out of an old-fashioned movie, all dressed up for tea time. There have been other days where she’ll show up looking like a nineteen-fifties housewife, with a freshly baked pie and all.
“This’ll do, Jude. Any update on that new release I was asking about? What was that name I told you to check for again?”
“No ma’am, no news. I put in an order request, but Mrs. Turpin likes most of our books to be donated since the budget’s so small. I wrote it down though. I can look it up if you’d like.”
She pats my hand. “No need, dear, I know you do your best. Maybe one day I’ll stop over to make a donation so you can do a big order.” She winks.
“That’d be great; the library would appreciate any kind of support,” I reply with the same thing I say to her each week.
We have this conversation at least once, sometimes twice a week, and it’s always the same. It reminds me of that movie Groundhog Day. I don’t know if she does actually have some money stuffed away somewhere that she could donate, but I just take it for what it usually is—an empty promise. She’s a nice old lady though, so I really don’t mind repeating myself.
“You have a good afternoon, my dear, and keep your nose out of trouble.” She squints and wags her finger in my direction making me smile.
“Yes ma’am, enjoy your book.”
“Oh, I intend to.” With a smirk, she takes her leave.
I can’t help but laugh a little. I bet she was a spitfire when she was younger if her book choices have anything to say about her. I’ve read them all, and she has a taste for suspense and lots of sexiness. Not that I can blame her, I love those types of books as well. They give me wild dreams if I read them at night.
My so called “crazy” afternoon consists of a new yogurt flavor that I have a feeling could be life changing or traumatizing. I’m nervous and excited all at the same time to try it. Unlike me, Carissa’s boss actually lets her order new products to try out at the store. As soon as I walked in yesterday, she was beaming, telling me about a new whipped Boston cream pie flavor they just got in.
Yes, the town really is that small. It’s a blessing and a curse. I can walk to pretty much everywhere, which is convenient. The downfall is that there’s a whole lot of nothing here. When I say nothing, I mean we don’t even have sidewalks, and the only stoplight is on the main road to slow traffic down a bit. Our town’s so little we don’t have a Dairy Queen, and those places are all over Texas from what I’ve been told.
We have a diner though that specializes in fifty-cent burnt coffee, soggy grilled cheeses and the best apple pie I’ve ever had. But again, no sidewalk; they have a gravel parking lot. There’s the Stop N Shop that doubles as a grocery store and a gas station. They have a deli in there to get a fresh sandwich, but it’s a waste of money.
We have our library that’s a single large room with bookshelves lining the perimeter, a desk in the center, and a smaller table to hold our one community computer. The selection is so poor as far as libraries are concerned; I’m surprised it’s still in business. Mrs. Turpin put in a tiny bathroom last year, thankfully. Before that, I’d have to lock up and run to the store every time I needed to use the restroom.
The town has a hole-in-the-wall bar that’s painted a hideous yellow color on the outside, so you don’t miss it. I’ve only seen the inside once, and I wasn’t impressed. Everyone younger than eighteen is bussed to the next town over for school. There’s a thrift shop, and the neighbors have yard sales from time to time, so that’s how most of us get a different clothing selection.
I think the only reason any of us is even employed is from the people passing through. We’re in a part of Texas that doesn’t have a major highway, so we get a lot of people traveling to get to the highway from small surrounding towns. Half the time they aren’t even trying to be on this road, and they’re lost. It keeps us locals entertained.
I don’t know why anyone would want to live here and have a family, but I’ve never known any different. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve lived here in the trailer—a few blocks back—my entire life. It’s been a boring life at that, and I suppose most would be grateful. I’m not; it’s left me with nothing to do but age well beyond my young years.
