Down the Dirt Road (28 page)

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Authors: Carolyn LaRoche

BOOK: Down the Dirt Road
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    “Tri-ha? Who dat?” A tiny voice asked.

   “It’s OK Sarah-belle, you can go back in the other room.  I’ll be right there.  Go get your dolly.”

    “O-Tay Tri-ha.”  Jennie watched as the mass of blonde curls made its way down the hallway on chunky legs covered in candy cane striped leggings.

      “Why are you here, Jennie?”   Trisha rubbed her hands up and down her arms as tiny flakes of frozen water spun in a spout at her bare feet.

     “I thought you had a little boy?”  Jennie was still watching the little figure toddle down the long hallway.

     “That’s my niece, Sarah Isabelle.  I keep her when her Momma and Daddy are both workin’.  Not that it matters.  This ain’t no social call, Jennie.  You ain’t dropped by to see me here well…ever.  So whatcha doin’ here now?”

     Lines of tension stretched across Trisha’s once flawless reflection.  She pinned Jennie with her suspicious stare.  She had no reason to trust Jennie anymore- not after her once best friend had made it so obvious that she no longer trusted Trisha.
  Reminding herself of why she was there- to try and mend a broken bridge even just a little bit- Jennie just smiled and patted her pocket.

    “I have something for you.”
     Removing her mitten, Jennie reached into her pocket and pulled out the box
Michael had asked her to deliver.
  Handing it to the other woman, she watched Trisha’s response carefully as she said, “Michael sent it to me and asked me to deliver it to you.”

    Surprise then anger filled Trisha’s expression.  “
My
Michael sent it to
you
?  Why on God’s green Earth would he do
that
?”

     Her hand shook as she held the small wrapped box.  Why was she so mad?  It was a gift from her husband, the man she supposedly loved with all her heart.  Instead of tearing into the wrapping though, she tossed the box on a small table by the door and glared at Jennie.

    “Is this some kind of a sick joke?”  Trisha’s eyes flashed with the anger she was doing nothing to contain.  “Get off my property!”

    Jennie stuck the steel toe of her work boot in between the door and the frame as Trisha tried to slam it shut in her face.

    “It’s no joke, Trisha.  And I was angry to
o, when I first got the package.
  But his reasons were good
-
in his mind.
  I’m not so sure I agree but well, here I am.

     “And just what ridiculous reason would he have for sending his wife’s Christmas gift to his
ex
-girlfriend?”  Those angry blue eyes continued to burn her with their stare.

     “He wants us to make up.”

     “Make up?”
     “I know, I think it’s crazy too.”

     “I didn’t say it was
crazy
just …well,
why
?”  The anger that had saturated Trisha’s clear blue eyes was now replaced by sheer confusion.  “I mean, it just don’ make sense.”

       “Grayson Jennings is MIA.”

        Until that moment, Jennie hadn’t planned to tell Trisha.  The words left her mouth before she had time to hold them back.

       “Who?  He’s …what?”  Shock quickly displaced the confusion.

       “Michael wrote to me to tell me that Grayson was a prisoner of war and sent your gift with… the other things … and pleaded with me to take it to ….”
      “Wait!”  Trisha held up a hand to stop Jennie.  “What other
things?”

 
     “Tri-ha!”  A tiny voice called from the back of the house.  “I cold!”

        “Damn.”  Trisha mumbled to herself.  Over her shoulder she called out, “I know Sarah-belle!  I’ll close the door.  You OK in there with your Dolly?”

     “I OK!  Dolly cold though!”

        Waving her arm reluctantly, she ushered Jennie into the tiny foyer and slammed the door closed against winter’s assault.

         “Stay on the rug.  Don’t want no snow on my wood floors.  Too hard to get down on the floor to clean these days.”  Trisha patted her rounded belly.   “What other things did he send?  Where are they?”

     “They… the other things were for me…”

     “For
you
?  My husband sent you gifts
and
he had you deliver mine?”  The anger was back in Trisha’s expression in full force.

     “They were… letters.  From Grayson.  For me.”

      The confusion returned.  “Grayson- Michael’s friend- was writing
you
letters?  Does anyone actually still write letters anymore?”

    Typical Trisha.  Jennie sighed.  Why had she even brought it up?  She didn’t want this person who had broken her heart to be privy to her personal life.  She should have known Trisha would be full of questions.

    “Yes, people still write letters.  Yes, he was writing them to me.  Michael thought I might want to have them in case… if…”

     “If Grayson doesn’t come home?”
     “Yes.” 

     “Were you two… a … thing?”

     “No.”

    “Then why was he writing you letters?”

     “I don’t know.  He just was.”

      “Have you read any of them yet?”  Curiosity was clearly the only emotion in Jennie’s eyes now. 

     “I read a few.  I should really go now.  I left my car parked on the road.”

      Trisha dismissed the idea of her leaving with an wave of her hand.  “What did they say?”
      “Nothing.  Just…stuff.  Really, I need to get goin’.”  Jennie reached for the door knob but Trisha’s hand shot out and grabbed it first.  She manipulated her pregnant belly between them as a barrier.

     “What kind of
stuff
?”  It was blatantly obvious that Trisha wasn’t going to let this one go.

     “You know, stuff about the war.  Some …personal…stuff too I guess.
”  Jennie reached for the door knob again.  “I really need to get back to my car.  I am sorry Michael is away while you are so pregnant and this close to the holidays.  He really does love you, I could tell by the way he practically begged me to make up with you.”

    “Hmpf…”  Trisha snarled. “He don’t care if you and I make up.  He just wants someone to watch up on me.  My husband has trust issues.”

    “Does he have reason too?”  She wanted to bite back the words even as they left her lips.  Of course he had reason not to trust his wife.  Everyone in town knew she was stepping out on him with that pharmacist.”

    Trisha shot her a nasty glare.  “Of course not!”

      “Well, then he was just worried about you and wants us to be friends again.  I know it’s never gonna happen but I thought it was the right thing to do, bringin’ you his gift.  Now, if you don’t mind, I better get goin’.  Weather man says another six inches comin’ our way at least.  I wanna get home before I can’t.”

      “Hmpf…”  Trisha crossed her arms over her belly.  “Whatever you need to do.  Thanks for droppin’ the box off.  I am sure my
husband
will appreciate it.  In fact, I’m gonna email him as soon as you are gone and let him know he should’a sent it straight to me instead of inconveniencin’ you.”

    There was absolute no mistaking the bitter tone of Trisha’s words.  It was obvious she was annoyed at the intrusion into her personal life- which might have been Michael’s intent all along.  Who knew?

     “Whatever.  Have a Merry Christmas Trisha.”

     “Yeah.  You too.”  There was no holiday cheer in her words.

     The door slammed just a little too loudly behind her as Jennie made her way down the slick steps.  Her boot caught an icy patch on the last step sending her flying into the drifted snow.  She was certain she could hear Trisha’
s laughter from behind the door as she picked herself off and brushed the snow form her jeans and coat.

    No matter.  She had done what she came to do.  By afternoon everyone in town would know Grayson was missing.  She did regret letting that information out.  She just couldn’t seem to help herself though.  The seventeen year old girl still deep inside her wanted Trisha to know that there was someone out there, someone better than Michael that loved her.  And he did love her.  She could tell that in every word he had written.  And now she would never have the chance to tell him that she felt the same way.

    Damn it all to hell!  Jennie Marshall was destined to be alone in this world!  She needed to learn to accept that and stop trying to change her destiny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

24.

      “WHY?!”    Jennie slammed both mittened hands against the steering wheel and slammed her foot against the gas pedal once again.  The engine whined as the RPM’s raced and the front tires spun uselessly in the heavy, wet snow.  Parking her car on the side of the road may not have been the best of ideas after all.

     Slamming the car into park, she ripped the keys from the ignition.  Looks like she would be walking home.  A kick to the front tire only served to send shooting pain through
her already icy cold foot.  Hopefully Uncle Tommy would be later to get her car unstuck.

     “This is what I get for trying to do the right thing.”  Jennie was still mad that she let Trisha get to her emotions.  She was only supposed to go there and drop off the box from Michael.  She wasn’t prepared for all of the questions or the odd gamut of emotions Trisha passed through during their conversation.  Of course, she had heard that pregnancy hormones could really mess with a woman.  In which case, Jennie had fallen victim to a mad pregnant woman, giving her all sorts of fodder for the rumor mill.

    Maybe whatever was in that box would be enough to placate her old friend.  If not, Trish would probably just go drown her sorrows in the lips of the handsome pharmacist she had been sneaking around with not so slyly.

     Snowflakes danced in the air as she made her way down the snow covered road to her home. The snow had switched to the really wet flakes, the fluffy kind that were real heavy when all piled up in a snow bank and made the roadways real slick.  Thus the reason her useless vehicle sat on the
side of the road and she was currently hiking through the rotten weather to get back home.

    At least the change in the precipitation indicated a change in temperature.  Maybe even a change in weather all together.  If they had even one more day of snowfall she just might go insane.

     Twenty minutes later she was stomping
her frozen feet against the
front porch.  Each
slap of icy cold foot against snow covered wood
sent an arc of pain up her spinal cord telling her that her feet were in bad shape.  She needed to get warm and soon.  Thank you Michael McKee for not only forcing her to see the one person on the Earth she had no desire to see but for causing her to get frost bite in the process!

   The warmth of the living room was welcoming as it wrapped itself around her cold body like one of her grandmother’s wool afghans.

    “Jennie girl!  Where have you been?”  Momma rushed into the room as she kicked off her second boot and began stripping off her mittens, hat and scarf.

    “I…um…I had an errand to run.”  No sense baring her soul to Momma too.  She had more than enough of that pain with Trisha.

    “In this weather?  What were you thinking, girl?”  Momma moved over to the front window and pulled the heavy drapes back.  An instant gust of icy cold wind slammed into the room through the old, un-insulated glass.
   “It sure is nasty out there.  Jennie?  Where’s the car?”

     Jennie
watched as her mother hugged herself against the chill.  Her lupus was responding well to treatment- so the doctor said- but her Momma was still so frail and so cold all the time.  She
hung her winter coat on the peg by the door hoping it would be dry by the time she had to do the evening chores out in the barn.

    “It’s up the road a bit, Momma.  Got stuck in the snow.  The new stuff
falling now
is super wet, made the road slick.  Don’t worry, I’m sure Uncle Tommy will see it and drag it home for us on his way here to… see you.”
    Momma flushed a deep shade of crimson at the mention of the almost daily visits from her husband’
s brother but
dismissed her
unchecked
response with a quick wave of her hand.

    “I’m sure you’re right Jennie.  Tom will see it and bring it home for us.  OH!  You must be half frozen!  Come into the kitchen and I will make you some hot tea.  How far did you have to walk sweet pea?”

     “
Mom
ma


I am twenty two years old.  Sweet pea is sort of childish, don’t you think?”  She had always hated that nickname.

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