Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
Violet woke up in late July feeling nauseated. She didn’t blame the previous night’s spaghetti because she’d suspected she might be pregnant for a month or so. She patted her belly, happy to know she and Sam would be starting their family right away. She imagined his smile when she told him her news. Poor Sam had been locked in his father’s store for days doing inventory, and she knew he’d been focused on this day to get him through. Now she had a wonderful surprise to add to their adventure.
They were meeting at the train station tonight at seven o’clock to elope. It wouldn’t be the big wedding she’d dreamed about, but she didn’t care. Sam had assured her it was best, and a more romantic beginning for them. She hid her packed suitcase in the closet and went to greet her mother for the last time as a single woman.
“Pancakes, honey?” Alice asked.
“No thanks, Mom. I’m not very hungry.”
Alice regarded her daughter with a long gaze, eyebrows arched in question. “You’re not sick, are you? Let me feel your temperature.” She pressed a velvety hand to Violet’s forehead, then patted her cheek with a smile. “Come help me strip the beds before Corinna gets here. Then we can get ready to cook lunch.”
Violet stifled a sigh and trudged after her mother, vowing silently to keep her life with Sam more interesting than housework and meal preparation.
That evening Katie Ruth smuggled luggage out as Violet distracted her parents, kissing them goodnight as she left for a fictional pajama party. Violet smiled at her best friend’s tears when they arrived at the station.
“I can’t believe you and Sam are getting married, Vi. I wish I could be with y’all.”
“I do too,” Violet answered. “You know you’d be my maid of honor. We’ll get together as soon as we’re back from New Orleans.” She pecked Katie Ruth’s cheek and wiped a pink lipstick smudge and a tear track with her thumb. “Don’t cry, silly. This is the happiest day of my life. I’ll bring you a fabulous souvenir.”
Katie Ruth brightened and started the car as Violet exited to get her bags from the trunk. “I love anything with pecans or diamonds,” she yelled. Violet laughed and closed the car door, rapping a quick goodbye with her knuckles on the windshield.
eleven
RONNI
My mother’s face loomed over me, her index finger doing that bumblebee-tickle thing parents try when nothing else amuses their toddler. I must have been around two years old, because we were living in a beaten Oldsmobile she’d told me was magical. How many people’s homes can take them directly to a Happy Meal?