Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) (3 page)

Looking at Jersey, I replied back. “Yeah Ce,
I will go with you after graduation. Jersey, can you pick me up at
a quarter to six?”

“Char you don’t need to be that early for
graduation, it doesn’t start until six thirty in the evening.”
Jersey noted.

“That’s because she’s the Valedictorian and
has to give a speech, remember.” CeCe said in a barely tolerant
voice.

“Oh. Well you can go with CeCe if you want.
Some of the guys and I are getting a head start to the graduation
parties. We are meeting on the 50-yard line at five.”

“Jersey you better be careful. Besides you
have to walk me down to my chair.” I said, sounding like my
mother.

“Cool down Char. I’ll be fine and I’ll be
there to walk you to your chair.” Jersey said in an annoyed
voice.

“Alright, we have to get going CeCe. Richie
is picking me up. I will see you later Jersey—do not be late!” I
said as I quickly kissed Jersey goodbye on the cheek.

Yelling down the hall as we were scurrying
to meet Richie, I heard Jersey laugh and shout, “Char, my grandma
gives better kisses than that,” while standing with his football
buddies.

“CeCe keep walking,” I started to say as I
knew she, at any minute, was waiting for an opportunity to put him
in his place. And of course, less than a second later CeCe flipped
around and laughingly replied “Jersey, you really need to stop
making out with your grandma,” before she turned back around to
push the doors wide open to our future.

“Good God CeCe!”

“I know that was pretty funny, wasn’t it,”
she said still laughing at her cleverness, as we skipped down the
steps outside.

“Hey, there’s Richie. I’ve gotta go but
you’ll pick me up at 5:30 PM, right?”

“Of course.”

Chapter 3: Oh, The Places You’ll Go

“It’s
five thirty; where is she?” I asked as I peeked out the window.

“Char, it’s CeCe, she’s always late.”
Richie, the youngest of my four brothers called back, while
glancing at himself in the entryway mirror.

Richie, the most entertaining Buchanan,
other than my grandma Rose, my dad’s mom, is also my closest
brother. Out of the five of us siblings, identical twins Edward and
Peter are the oldest, Jason is the next oldest and Richie is only
one year older than me. I am the youngest and only girl of the
bunch. Edward and Peter, the serious, most-like-my-dad of the boys,
both started working on the farm right after high school and are
six years older than me. Instead of being opposites, like most
identical twins I’ve heard about, I think they both share one brain
because they always seem to be able to tell what the other one’s
thinking—like finishing each other’s sentences and falling for the
same girls. Jason, the most sophisticated and college-educated of
the bunch, has lots of ideas to help modernize the farm to make it
more efficient and profitable. Even though it appears that my dad
is listening when Jason presents his new ideas, my dad’s way of
harvesting peaches never really changed. I knew Jason would find a
way and be very successful one day. Richie, who inherited my
Grandma Rose’s sense of humor and our dad’s namesake, is not like
any of my other brothers. A rugged good looking-farm boy and always
popular with the girls, he never really fit the profile of a
farmer’s son. After graduation he stayed at home and attended
community college, auditioning for all the local theatre
productions in the area while working towards a marketing degree.
He enjoys making people laugh as if it’s the fuel he runs on. I can
count on him to listen without judgment, when I need to talk, a
rare and beautiful gift.

“Finally, I see her coming down the
driveway. Richie, when mom gets out of the shower, tell her that I
am saving her eight seats in the front row. Thanks, I love you.
I’ll see you at graduation later,” I said quickly as I dashed out
of the house.

In just a few moments we arrived at the
gymnasium, home of the Wildcats, for the last time as seniors. I
had been thinking about this day for many years. I couldn’t wait to
get away from this small and enveloping town. My dreams were
begging to be released. CeCe and I had both been accepted into the
University of Georgia in Athens, a much bigger and cultured
Georgian city. I would be free to make my own path, to show off my
God-given talents and become the journalist I’ve dreamt of since
childhood. We were so excited after finding out we both got in. I
was pretty sure I would get in and CeCe’s parents were not only
alumni but also whatever she lacked in GPA made up in generous
donations to the university. We had it all planned out. The first
two years we’d stay in the dorms together and then get an apartment
close to campus during our junior year. Studying abroad was,
without doubt, in our plans for at least a semester—preferably
Paris or Rome—somewhere full of adventure. Like her parents, she
planned to major in political science, which pleased both her
parents. Although law didn’t seem fitting for CeCe, she would
definitely be a lethal force to debate with. CeCe could be very
persuasive and had a way with words that made her hard to argue
with. Most of the girls in our school were a bit intimidated by
CeCe’s tenacity while the guys looked at CeCe as hot but
high-maintenance. However, I’d catch Eric Sothersby sneaking a
glance, now and then, at CeCe, still probably bewildered by her
forwardness in the janitor’s closet. And even though they hadn’t
talked since that day in the fifth grade, I could sense that he
still had a thing for CeCe, by the way he became mesmerized when he
locked his sights on her. I had always thought Eric Sothersby was
such a nice guy besides his good looks and charming shyness. CeCe
seemed to be too busy looking for her next thrill to catch Eric’s
sneak peeks.

What seemed to take forever was coming to a
close in just a few hours. The gymnasium was starting to fill up
and I could see my fellow peers pouring in with their blue and
white gowns on. Soon, the band would start playing Pomp and
Circumstance. From behind the stage I could see my mom and dad,
Grandma Evi and Grandma Rose sitting in the front row. My brothers
were probably walking around talking with old friends. Who I hadn’t
seen yet was my boyfriend, which was no surprise to me. It was now
6:15 PM and we were getting ready to line up to begin the march
down the middle aisle towards the podium.

“Where is he? I told him not to be
late.”

“Is it really any surprise Char? That boy is
always up to no good.”

Just then Mrs. Palen, our principal, came
over to announce that we must get in line with our partner.
“Charlotte, you’ll be leading everyone up to the stage. Remember to
go to the front row and walk towards the end of the chairs.” She
said while straightening my cap.

“CeCe, this is just like Jersey to show up
late for graduation.”

“Char, I’ll be your partner. Charlie can
walk with someone else, I’m sure he won’t mind. Besides this is our
moment to shine,” CeCe said smiling.

“Ce, thank you. I did not want to walk up
the aisle, alone, with a million eyeballs on me.”

“Okay ladies,” Mrs. Palen instructed, “as
soon as you hear Pomp and Circumstance begin you can start walking
down the aisle just as we practiced earlier.” She then turned
towards the rest of the line of students and informed them, “I will
stand at the back here and tap ya’ll on the shoulder to let you
know when to start walking down the aisle.”

With my long curled brown hair, perfectly in
place, I locked my right arm with CeCe’s. A few seconds later I
heard the sound of trumpets, tubas, and clarinets start up.

“Here we go Char,” CeCe said beaming as if
we were walking down the red carpet.

As we marched down the aisle flashing lights
sparkled throughout the gymnasium while the music filled the warm
country air. Our banner, ‘Class of 1995’ proudly swayed over the
podium where I would be speaking in just a little while. As we
neared the front row I saw all of my brothers whistling and yelling
“Go Char”. My parents, with cameras held up to their faces, were
smiling and cheering us on. Beside them, my grandmothers were
waving and clapping. On the other side of my brothers, I could see
CeCe’s parents. They were smiling proudly and snapping up pictures
of us while we floated towards the podium. Stepping onto the stage
I unlocked arms with CeCe and started towards the end of the row,
with CeCe filing in behind me. As I sat down, I started rehearsing
my speech in my mind. I had almost forgotten how mad I was at
Jersey for not showing up yet again for another important moment in
my life. Watching all my fellow classmates fill up the seats made
my stomach begin to twist and turn as I knew I would be speaking in
front of more people than I had in my whole life in just minutes.
Suddenly I felt CeCe elbowing me in my side, temporarily relieving
my building anxiety.

Whispering towards my ear, CeCe said, “look
who’s sneaking in the back of the line.”

Trying to contain my composure I saw Jersey
and five of his buddies looking somber. Mrs. Palen appeared to be
reading them the riot act, while shooing them in pairs towards the
front of the gymnasium. CeCe later told me that she could almost
see daggers springing forth from my eyes like little ninjas darting
at his face.

“Char, don’t worry about him, you have an
awesome speech to give,” CeCe again whispered.

Mrs. Palen motioned me to go to the podium
to begin my speech.

Nervous, I walked up to the podium to give
the speech I’d been waiting a lifetime to give. Although I could
compose speeches relatively easily, speaking to a crowd of more
than a thousand was nerve-wrecking.

“Welcome to the graduating class of 1995.
Thank you for coming today and for traveling with us in this
journey here. Without you, we could not have made it.”

Turning towards my fellow graduates, “And to
you Class of 1995, I say today is your day.”

I continued on with the first few paragraphs
of my favorite Dr. Seuss book.

“
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!”

”You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.”
”You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.”
”
And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.”

I went on for another few minutes after the
last few verses of Seuss before ending with this: “Class of 1995,
this life is yours for the taking. May you choose the paths less
traveled and wherever you end up may you always find yourself in
the company of good friends.” Smiling at CeCe, I thanked the crowd
once again as cheers rose up from my classmates and audience,
before taking my seat.

As I sat back down, CeCe squeezed my hand
and nodded her head “you did great lady.”

After the ceremony was over and we posed for
an endless array of photographs with our parents and friends, CeCe
and I hugged my family goodbye and walked towards her car to get
ready for her graduation party. Jersey, watching us from the corner
of the gym, waited for the right time to come over and catch us
before we left.

Without stopping to hear Jersey’s pathetic
excuse of an apology I jumped into CeCe’s car. I just enjoyed an
end to an important chapter in my life and did not want to screw it
up listening to Jersey’s excuses. As we began to drive off I could
hear Jersey calling my name.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up at your
parents.”

“That’s okay, I’ll have Harley welcome him
in,” CeCe said laughing. “That might liven things up a bit—you know
a little entertainment to break up the stuffiness from all the
people my mom invited.”

I laughed as I imagined Harley, CeCe’s
Doberman Pincher, chasing Jersey down the block.

“Thanks Ce, but I will probably have to talk
with him sooner or later anyway. Besides, it should be interesting
to see who all your mom invited.” I said, wanting to change the
subject.

We pulled up to CeCe’s house a few minutes
later. Her house was beautifully lit with white Christmas lights
adorning the weeping willows situated on either side of her long
driveway. CeCe’s house, a beautiful old plantation home, complete
with a grand front porch and four white pillars divided by
oversized hanging fern baskets, was one of the most beautiful homes
in the south. A server with drinks and hors d’oeuvres immediately
greeted us followed by CeCe’s mother asking what took us so long.
She then began to straighten CeCe’s hair as CeCe tried to weave
around the hands poking at her. Looking around, everything appeared
perfect. The house looked like it belonged in a magazine and
everywhere you looked there was a server standing with a platter
ready to present the finest finger foods one could find at a grand
ball. There were large bouquets of tastefully designed floral
arrangements overflowing throughout the 1830’s era home. There was
live music coming from a small orchestra on the back lawn. I spied
CeCe’s dad talking with several gentlemen, drinks in hand and deep
in conversation. Even at family events, CeCe’s parents were always
working out deals to be on retainer for fortune 500 companies
although they were best known for their victories with high-profile
divorces. They knew the value that networking for their law firm
gave and CeCe’s graduation party was another venue to schmooze
potential clientele. CeCe had complained on the way home about all
the people her mother had invited to her graduation party, half of
whom she had never met before. It was a gorgeous summer night in
the south, despite my boyfriend being stupid or CeCe’s parents
capitalizing on her successes.