Grace
“Gracelyn! Gracelyn Mae! It’s me, Grace! It’s Charlotte!”
My body tensed as I walked through the streets of Chester and heard Charlotte’s voice shouting my way. I only had two choices. I could break out into a sprint—no thanks, running is gross—or just stop, engage for a few minutes, and then go off on my own to hide away from the world.
I paused my steps, took a deep breath, and then put on the biggest fake Southern smile I could muster. “Oh hey, Charlotte. How are ya doing this wonderful Friday morning?”
“Oh, look at you, all chipper,” she remarked, patting my arm. “I’m glad to see you’re in high spirits after that weird speech you gave at the music festival last weekend.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms with that big ole smile. “It’s a shame, ain’t it? You think you know someone, and then, BOOM, they just turn out to be somethin’ else, though I’m sure there were warning signs you ignored, right?”
I parted my lips to speak, but she cut me off.
“But what is your papa always saying? God works in mysterious ways, and ain’t that the truth. I hope you’re still praying each night.”
Only to Jackson’s body…
“Well, thanks for the chat, Charlotte, but I really need to get a move on. We’ll talk later.”
“Yes! Tonight at the get-together,” she told me.
“Oh, sorry, I can’t make it today. I’m busy tonight.”
“But your mama said you’d be there, so I’ll see you later! I put you down for an apple cobbler! Okay, I gotta run! Bye!” she said, hurrying away before I could answer.
I was on my way to Judy’s house, but I did a quick one-eighty because it was time for me to have a heart-to-heart with Mama.
I couldn’t take any more of her trying to control my airwaves.
* * *
“You’re going to Charlotte’s for chitchat night, Gracelyn Mae,” Mama ordered as she shifted through binders of the workshops held at the church throughout the summer. I paced the living room, beyond annoyed with her antics.
“No, I’m not. You can’t just do this, Mama. You can’t tell people I’m going to do things that I’m not.”
“But you are,” she commanded, closing the binder. “Especially after that outburst you had in town last weekend. Look, I get it—you’re going through some kind of midlife crisis right now, and you feel lost, but you cannot keep running from the people trying to help you.”
I huffed, blowing out hot air. “Charlotte Lawrence is not trying to help me. None of the girls who go to that type of gathering are trying to help. They’re just digging for gossip.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t show up, tossing around comments about a cheating husband, people wouldn’t have anything to gossip about.”
And just like that, I was to blame once again.
“I’m not doing any of this, Mama. I don’t want to do any of this at all.”
“That’s fine,” she agreed, nodding slowly as she stood. “Keep thinking of yourself.”
“Someone has to think about me, seeing as how you aren’t.”
“What do you want me to do, Gracelyn Mae? You want me to have an outburst in town toward Finley? You want me to publicly humiliate Autumn? You want me to blacklist their families and make such a scene in public that Charlotte has enough gossip for months to come? We are not those people. We do not grab microphones and air our dirty laundry. I raised you better than that.”
