Pt. 3 A week later, two of my childhood buddies and fellow lake residents, Norma and Sheri, joined me in my cozy living room for a girls night in. The fire I’d built in the big rock fireplace crackled and danced while we made ourselves comfortable in the old leather furniture, soft as butter from years of wear. I set out some snacks and poured everyone a glass of red wine and we toasted the three of us. “To hanging out in no-man’s-land all winter long,” Sheri lifted her glass and Norma and I joined in with a soft clinking together of my grandmother’s crystal goblets. “Hey,” Sheri began as she settled into the big leather chair, “I saw Ryan out here again the other day. What’s he been up to?” “Ryan? My brother, Ryan?” “The one and only,” Sheri nodded. “I have no idea.” I felt myself squint. “What do you mean ‘again’? I didn’t know he was here at all.” “Yeah, he was talking to Flint a couple of days ago. I figured he was making arrangements to have Flint shovel for you, or something like that, but it is strange he didn’t come and say hello.” “He…
Month: October 2014
The Flint Riggins Story Pt. 2
Pt. 2 The winter of 1998 was particularly tough on all of us. The roads were plowed continuously yet never clear, the drifts rose so high we drove through tunnels and walkways and driveways were a never ending job. If you planned on getting out of the house in the morning, you shoveled last thing in the evening. Of course, we were used to it, living in this part of the country demands preparation for the seasons and most of us loved it. I had come to occupy the family lake house full time while I attempted to put the fragments of my life back together: not at all like they used to be, yet mended back together in a way that would allow me to continue living on my own. Discovering that my best friend and husband of twenty six years had a secret life which included a young lover and a child stomped out the fairy tale of happily ever after. I’ve learned it was all a mirage unfortunately. And now, for the second part of my life; a true one, an honest one. I will never let me down, I decided. I will take good care of…
The Flint Riggins Story, Pt. 1
Hi! I’m sorry my blog is late getting out this week. Life just gets in the way doesn’t it? I received so much positive feedback from the Cammie Orton series I decided to do it again. So, here we go! I hope you enjoy it. Mary Ann The Story of Flint Riggins Part 1 Flint Riggins was a friend of a friend of a friend of mine. I never really wanted to get to know the guy, but as it turned out, I had no choice. Destiny is a curious thing. Total confusion along the way and then suddenly, there you are, face to face with it. I’ll never know how it all came about. Just that it did and sometimes that has to be good enough. Acceptance I guess: simple acceptance. It was 1998 when I first met him. He had a dog named Vern. I’ll never forget how hard I laughed over a dog named Vern. I mean seriously, can’t you just hear it. “Vernon!” Flint would holler. “Vern you come on now.” I’m not the only one who cracked up over that name. The dog lived to obey. His adoration for his master was evident in…
Pt. 6 (and the end) of The Cammie Orton Story
Pt. 6 Ann clamored down the stairs as quickly as she could, grasping the pealing metal railing, flecks of paint fleeing her hands like snow in the wind. Maddy and I froze at the top of the stairs. Our eyes locked. “Let’s give her minute,” she muttered. I nodded understanding the possible need for a private moment as Ann passed under the crumbling door frame. There was nothing but silence. I could hear my heart pounding. We waited a couple of minutes before hearing Ann’s soft voice strangled in tears. “Who…how could she…how long?” Maddy and I slowly descended the steep stairs and peaked cautiously into the cellar. Odors crept our way, invading our sense of smell with that chilling dampness and old mold cellars are famous for. But what we beheld defied the odor. The room, no larger than a prison cell, was the definition of a desperate attempt at survival with dignity. An old wooden crate turned on it’s side served as a night stand next to a cot. The cot was tiny and metal, like an old army cot. Although it obviously lacked a mattress, it was piled with old quilts and pillows of all sizes and…
Pt. 5 of the Cammie Orton Story
Part 5 “Come on Maddy,” I tugged on her arm. “What are you doing?” She stood glued to the ground staring at the Orton’s back door. “Did you not see the backpack right there?” Maddy nodded toward the porch as she reluctantly began following me up the driveway. “Yes, I saw it.” “I think she’s planning on leaving, that’s what I think. We need to call Kathy immediately.” She shifted into her speed walk mode, unable to get a foot through her own front door fast enough. I let myself in behind Maddy, heading straight for her kitchen and a cup of coffee I knew was waiting in the thermos. Maddy came in with her cell phone and placed the call to Kathy Orton, a noticeable unsteadiness in her voice. I got the cream out of the refrigerator and put it on the table with a spoon. “Sit down Maddy,” I said and nodded toward her chair. She took a seat with a heavy sigh as she waited for an answer while I poured her a cup and stirred in a little cream. “Kathy? Hi! It’s Magdalene at the beach.” Magdalene dove right in, telling Kathy all about the…