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A deep sigh left her, and she dropped the camera from her face, letting it hang down from her neck again. “You paint?” she asked, changing the subject.
I nodded, a melancholy feeling hitting me now.
What was wrong with me today?
“I liked painting as a kid. Then, when I went to college, I promised myself I would pick it up again after I got my degree,” I explained, dipping my toe in the stream.
“Did you? Pick it up again?”
I paused, trying to remember. A soft, sad laugh left her. “What are you doing here, Valerie?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” I snapped, backing away from her now.
She shook her head. “I don’t mean to scare you, sweet girl, but you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Where am I supposed to be, Jane?” I was scared now. I didn’t know how I got here. I didn’t remember anything. My past was fuzzy, and I all knew was that this looked like a good place to read. Jane didn’t answer me. Instead, she took a seat on the flat rock, looking up to the trees and the clouds above them.
“You know, every ten years or so, Mother Nature will throw this valley for a loop. When I was pregnant with my first, it had been a hot day in the dead of winter…” She trailed off and looked at me. “Recently, it had been a storm. It brought in a cold front at the beginning of summer, believe it or not. The rain was freezing, and it shocked the town.”
“Get in the God damn truck!”
My body jerked at the sound of the deep voice. I looked around.
Who said that?
When I looked to Jane again, she was staring into the forest, smiling brightly. The sound of children laughing filled my ears, and my heart warmed. I smiled, my eyes following hers, but I couldn’t see the children. It looked like Jane could.
“Those your boys?” I asked softly.
She shook her head. “Not my stubborn ones.” She sighed again. “No, I had to leave them behind…”
“Where are they?” I asked.
“Discovering themselves, I suppose. Everyone does at some point.”
I nodded, shifting on my feet.
“You know what I miss the most?”
My eyes met hers. “What?”
“My green kitchen.”
“Valerie.”
Another body jerk, but this time, I felt warm all over. Excited. The deep voice said my name and made it sound like a song. I wanted to hear it again, but I wasn’t sure if was going to.
“Then, of course, my porch swing,” Janes continued.
A deep, raspy, velvet laughter filled my ears, followed by a familiar feminine one. Mom. That was Mom’s laughter.
“Is my mom here?” I breathed, looking around.
“Not yet, sweet girl. She won’t be here for a while,” Jane replied, picking up her camera again.
“What am I supposed to be doing, Jane?”
Everything around us shifted and suddenly, we were in a field. There was a man, a tall man, with a black cowboy hat on. I watched as he fell to his knees, his body rocking back and forth. He was crying.
