Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Nodding, I head to the cabinet and pull two glasses out, and then reach over her head to open the freezer. After dropping some ice cubes into the glasses, I steady the pitcher while she pours. Letting her grow up is hard. I want to give her some independence but I’m afraid of losing my little girl. She’s been the best part of my life since the day she was born.
“Cats poo and pee in the house?”
“In a litter box,” I say again. “And we clean it, but it’ll be your chore.”
Her nose scrunches and she shakes her head. “I’ll take a dog instead.”
“Right.” I sigh and put the empty pitcher into the sink. “What do you say we take these to the porch?”
Goldie beams. She hands a glass to me and then leads us back to the front porch where two white rocking chairs wait. She takes the one on the far end, sitting down and sighing as if she had a hard day and busted her back in the blazing sun all day.
My yellow and white trimmed home with its wide porch sits along the Magnolia river. Ever since growing up on the river, it’s where I always wanted to live. It’s where I said I’d buy a house and remodel it to be perfect. The buying part was easy, but the remolding part is slow moving. Once winter hits, not that Alabama has a true winter, I’ll pick a room and get something done. So far, I’ve done Goldie’s room, mine, and the upstairs bathroom. It’s just the two of us, and usually it’s just me. I’m in no rush.
My parents live down the river from me and not far from the Sweet Magnolia B & B, which is owned by Ina Meyers whose granddaughter, Wren, recently moved to town to help run the establishment. According to my mother, Wren has been a game changer when it comes to business and has brought tourism back to Magnolia Grove.
“Grandma says you’re going to take a fancy class at the B & B in a few weeks?”
Goldie nods. “It’s going to teach me to be real southern,” she says in thick drawl which will undoubtedly irk her mother.
I have no idea who is going to teach the class, but I can’t imagine it’ll be Ina or even Wren. Maybe they’ve tapped Ms. Linda to teach the youngsters, or my mother. Thoughts on the class give me pause. I remember going through cotillion classes when I was twelve. That was nothing short of a nightmare, made more so by my gushing mom when I had to wear a tux to the ball. The highlight of my pain and torture and the only saving grace of the night was my date—Lemon—who wore the most beautiful blue dress I had ever seen. Now that I’m an adult, I realize it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, it was her.
“You can be whatever you want to be, Goldie. No need to define yourself as a southern girl. Your mom isn’t.”
“I know,” she says as her legs swing back and forth. “Grandma says all girls my age need etiquette.”
My mom’s right, but that can be taught at home.
“What else does Grandma say when you’re with her?”
Goldie shrugs. “Not much unless she’s on the phone and then she tells all her friends how you need a wife.”
If I had sweet tea in my mouth I would’ve spat it across the porch. The last thing I need right now is a wife.
“I tell Grandma you don’t need a wife because you have lots of lawn to mow.”
“You’re right,” I say, laughing.
Goldie stops rocking and picks up her drink. “Can we make the kind of tea Ms. Linda does?”
Ms. Linda sets hers out in the morning and let’s nature do its thing. “Sure, but not tomorrow.”
“How come?”
“I have to get up really early and head over to your school.”
“Why?”
“Well because the fifth-grade class is going to plant a garden and I need to dig up the ground for them. But it’s going to be early, so Grandma will be here when you wake up.” I’m very thankful my parents are close and my mom’s willing to drop everything for Goldie.
“Why can’t I go with you?”
“Do you want to be up before the sun?”
Goldie shakes her head slowly. “No thanks.”
“Same, but it’s either I go in early, or I won’t get home until late tonight. I’d much rather spend this time with you instead of digging holes.”
Her lips lift and then turn into a full-blown smile.
“You’re my best girl, right?”
She nods and continues to smile.
The sound of a motorboat catches my attention, I look out toward the river and see Connie Lincoln coming around the bend. I look down at my watch and frown at the time. He’s way later than normal.