A Snapshot of Dixie

6: Raw Beauty

DIXIE

"Thanks for the ride, Callie Rose. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Sleep tight, Dixie." Shutting the car door, I watch Callie drive down the dirt road and wait for her usual wave once she reaches the end of the driveway. Waving back, I spin around and walk into the vacant house. My parents were having too much fun indulging in all the free wine at the Country Club, so I asked Callie for a ride home.

Taking off these dreadful shoes, I toss them on the floor and let out a breath of relief, finally getting out of them.

"I swear I'm never wearing heels again," I mumble walking further into my family home.

Naturally, my mother has our house decked out to her liking, so the aura is exquisite—crystal chandeliers in every room, including the kitchen and bathrooms. Soft hues of ivory and beige dress the walls with dashes of petal pink in the decor. Accents of cedarwood line the vaulted ceilings, giving it that rustic charm my dad loves. I swear my mother is obsessed with ostrich feathers and pampas grass. There's a vase of one of the two every few feet of our 3500 square foot home.

Thinking about my mother brings me back to our ease of conversation as my night came to an end. I knew she was waiting to hear my thoughts after chatting with a few guild members about a society woman's role in the world. It took a lot of self-coaxing and telling myself I wouldn't vomit, but I shared the news that I would not be joining the guild. Surprisingly she took it better than I anticipated.

Although I think my father may have had a hand in that as he filled her up with booze and wooed her with his Southern charm. What a relief it is to be free of that heavy load. I knew going into the night that I would never choose that path, but the events and the realizations that stemmed from tonight made my decision even clearer.

When my mother and I spoke earlier, I also told her that I was accepted into the photography program at Yale University and I have plans to move there right away to make it in time for the fall semester in a few weeks. She offered to fly with me there and help me get settled into a dorm. I couldn't have been more thrilled to hear her finally agree with me on something. I felt proud in that moment because for once I took charge of what I wanted and I'll be damned if I let anything stand in my way again.

Realizing that I'd been sticking around home waiting for my lost love to return, I felt the sting of the pain that I'd been unknowingly trying to block out. Seeing Tucker again reminded me so much of exactly what it was that I lost and all of the amazing times we had together. But that's where our story takes it's difficult turn. People grow apart and change. All the promises we made for our future died when he stopped caring enough to call. But more than anything, I need to find my own path and I know that now more than ever.

Attempting to walk upstairs to my bedroom, my ears get caught on a sound coming from the back of the house.

Setting my purse down by the steps, I cautiously walk through the living room and into the kitchen. Catching a flicker of light coming from the back window, I investigate, seeing that it's shining from inside my treehouse. Reaching for the baseball bat sitting by the backdoor, I storm out of the house towards it.

There have been a few neighbor boys sneaking into the treehouse recently and drawing graffiti on the walls. I know I'm too old to enjoy the space like I once did, but that doesn't mean I won't hesitate to frighten anyone who tries to destroy its memories. I had hoped to keep it in our family and one day see my children make memories within its walls.

Climbing the eight steps quietly, I hear someone mumbling and carefully peek my head inside the rectangular opening. Seeing someone's shadow, I hoist myself inside and ready my weapon of choice.