Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) (5 page)

“Mom, CeCe needs me and you’ll be fine,
these are all your friends anyways. I’ll be back later.” She
shouted, as she ran after me.

Within a few minutes we were at the
beach.

“I’m so glad we’re out of there. Besides I
love the beach, it’s my favorite place in the world.” I said,
tasting the salty ocean air kiss my lips, with every spoken
word.

“High school?” CeCe asked.

“Yeah, high school too, but the party and
all the people.”

“Hey Char, thank you for rescuing me
tonight. I would have clawed my eyes out if I had to stand next to
Bev any longer. By the way you are really good at making
impressions of my mom behind her back.”

“No problem Ce, that’s what best friends are
for. They stick with you even when no one else does.” I said,
looking at the full moon dancing above the tranquil sea.

In a low voice CeCe acknowledged, “I’m sorry
about you and Jersey.”

“Thanks. It was only a matter of time. We
wouldn’t have lasted long anyways once school started. He didn’t
seem like the faithful type and besides, I wasn’t going to give him
what he wanted anyhow. I might be naïve but I knew he didn’t
deserve this peach.”

“Isn’t that the truth, you are way too good
for a punk like him. Char, one day you’re going to be famous with
your stories. That jerk will be so sorry that he missed out on you.
That will be the best revenge! And when you’re super-famous, you
better not forget this bestie!”

“Ce, nothing will ever keep us from being
best friends, not even my future celebrity status,” I said
laughingly. “I love you Cecilia Kathryn Crawford. You are forever
my best friend!”

Yawning by this time, CeCe reached for my
hand, “I love you too Charlotte Renee Buchanan.”

The events of the night had taken most of my
energy. CeCe too appeared drained from bonding time with her
mother. Almost too sleepy to talk anymore, we both just laid there
on the cool moonlit sandy beach, listening to the waves gently roll
in.

Chapter 4: Prince Charming

Feeling
a soft breeze on my face, I rolled over to find the brilliant
morning sun peering through my window. CeCe was still sleeping.
From my bedroom, I could hear some clanging and clattering going on
in the kitchen downstairs. My mother was up as usual bright and
early probably making breakfast for everyone—or at least those in
my family who were not already outside working on the farm.

My mom was always up early, even on days
when she didn’t have to get up for school. My mom, the youngest of
five kids also, has forever been my biggest fan. Being the only
daughter helps but I think even if I weren’t the only girl I’d
still be close to my mom. She almost always wears a smile and I can
count on her to be positive—especially when something is bothering
me. I never quite understood how she was able to raise us,
nonetheless be a kindergarten teacher, without ever yelling. Even
if she didn’t like someone, you’d never know because she’s the type
of person who treats everyone with compassion and respect. That was
one of the many attributes that drew my dad to her. And although he
never seems to rest I still catch my dad grabbing my mom from
behind and giving her quick little pecks on her cheeks and
neck—usually when she’s got her hands elbow deep in soapy dish
water. My mom and dad grew up knowing each other because Grandma
Rose and Grandma Evi were best friends but my mom hadn’t really
ever noticed my dad until they went on a youth retreat that their
youth groups attended. My dad said that he was there to grow closer
to God and have fun with his friends when he spotted the most
beautiful girl with long brown hair singing and full of life. He
could only see part of her face from where he was sitting but every
once in a while, she would laugh and as she did her face turned
sideways towards her friends. My dad said that he’d secretly had a
crush on her for years. However, after seeing her in a new light,
he couldn’t take his eyes off her. I’ve seen pictures of my mother
when she was younger. She had long flowing brown hair and light
colored freckles dotted all over her nose and cheeks. With dimples
a mile deep, her smile is highly infectious. A lot of people say I
look like her. It was one of these times that she was laughing and
looking at her friends when she turned just enough to spot this
tan-faced guy starring at her. She said that her cheeks blushed
almost immediately from the intensity on his face. He said that she
was so striking that he didn’t realize that his mouth had been
gaping open the whole time until one of his friends gave him a
quick jab in the side. My mom says she couldn’t help but start
laughing and so did my dad after he got over his moment of
embarrassment. Her beauty was much deeper than her looks and her
kindness made her the most stunning woman he’d ever known. It
probably helped too that their mothers were secretly always
plotting their wedding. That weekend helped my mother see my father
in a different way. She had gathered frogs and went on cemetery
walks with him when they were younger. This time she saw the heart
behind the boy who now appeared to have turned into a rugged but
handsome man with a heart of gold. And the rest is history.

“Charlotte, CeCe, breakfast is ready. Come
on down, it’s on the table.” My mom called from downstairs.

Turning over, CeCe yawned, and said, “Is it
time to leave yet?”

“CeCe, that’s tomorrow.”

“I know I was just hoping to wake up to
tomorrow today.” She said while looking up at the sun shimmering on
the ceiling.

“I can’t believe we leave for school
tomorrow. Summer has flown by. I’m so excited. Are you packed
CeCe?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve had everything by the
door for almost a week now. It’s been driving my mom nuts having
her entryway cluttered with my stuff. I would have put my things
out sooner had I known it would’ve drawn this much attention from
her.” She said with a faint smile on her face.

“What about you Char?”

“I’ve got a few more things to finish
packing but I’m almost done.”

“You know what? We should go to Trixie’s for
lunch. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea Ce. But I think
we should start with breakfast first.”

“I hope your mom made her chocolate chip
pancakes. She always makes the best food. I’m going to miss her
cooking Char.”

“Ce, she always makes chocolate chip
pancakes when you come over. I’m sure she did.”

Albeit a perfectionist in many areas, Bev’s
cooking was not one of them. CeCe was always coming over to our
house for dinner or any meal she could get that didn’t come from a
box, a bag, or a restaurant. She was always raving about my mom’s
cooking, especially her chicken-noodle soup. Since my mom knew her
mother didn’t cook she insisted on making CeCe a pot of her famous
chicken-noodle soup every time she got sick. CeCe was like a wild
cat roaming for food. The more milk you put out for her the more
she’d come back for seconds. My parents have an open door policy.
Whenever someone is hungry they are always welcome at their table.
At holidays, we’d easily have at least 30 people packed into their
home. My mom’s favorite saying is ‘what’s one more’. As it was
between my brothers, both my grandma’s and myself, she cooked for 9
daily, 10 including CeCe.

Walking down the stairs, I smelled the sweet
aroma of warm chocolate and vanilla.

“Good morning girls. Did you sleep well?” My
mom asked cheerfully.

“Good morning Mrs. Buchanan. I slept great.
I would have woken up earlier if I knew you were making my favorite
pancakes.” CeCe said in a buttery voice.

“I’m going to miss making you girls
chocolate chip pancakes.” My mom said.

“Don’t worry mom you can always make me
chocolate chip pancakes.” Richie said, from the living room.

“First, you have to sweet talk me like CeCe
does Richie. She knows where the pudding is.” My mom said smiling
at CeCe.

“Ha-ha Richie!” CeCe laughed.

“So what do you two have planned for your
last day before college?” My mom asked while washing dishes.

“I think we’re going to Trixie’s for lunch
later. The beach might be nice. I’m going to miss the beach too,” I
said, chomping on my yummy chocolate chip pancakes.

“The beach sounds good.” CeCe said.

“Count me in for both cuz I know you’re
gonna miss your ‘Wichie’,” Richie said in a baby voice.

“That’s fine Richie. You can buy our lunch
since you’re going to miss your favorite cheerleaders.” I
replied.

Besides CeCe, Richie was not only my brother
but also my best friend. CeCe, Richie, and I spent many a night
hanging out at the beach, playing bocce ball, watching chic flicks,
and sharing our dreams—secret dreams, like being a Hollywood actor
instead of a marketing pro or being anything other than a lawyer.
Both Richie and CeCe defied the norms except when it came to
writing their future. Richie, always outgoing and popular with the
girls and guys, studied marketing because he felt it was something
that our parents could be proud of him for even though his heart
was never really convinced. And CeCe, studying political science
because no matter how little or how hard she tried never seemed to
be able to please her parents, or more importantly her mother,
hoped this would finally be something she could have in common with
them. Richie stood out from my other brothers. Choosing marketing,
he thought, would help to balance out previous accomplishments of
his like—Captain of the Cheerleading Squad at our school. Oh yeah,
only Richie could get away with being a cheerleader and not get
taunted for it by others at school. He could make anything look
cool. He was usually the one to take risks and the one that my
siblings could depend on to be the scapegoat if they got in
trouble. Overly animated, Richie can make even the most
pursed-lipped old lady laugh which came in handy with my father—the
authoritarian in our household. My father, as most people, didn’t
take Richie seriously and because of this my brother took to
marketing to win over his respect though his heart belonged to
Hollywood all along. Something most people didn’t know. Sometimes,
when it was just CeCe, he, and I, we’d tease and call him Brad
after one of his favorite actors, Brad Pitt. The first few times he
laughed and then would make a rebuttal. After awhile he started
answering to Brad, which always made Ce and I cheese. Though he’d
only be a phone call away, I knew I would miss him more than I
could have imagined when we left for school.

“We better finish up quickly,” I said. “I
still have to finish packing.”

“And don’t forget about dinner tonight at
six. Aunt Juanita will be here as well as Grandma Rose’s new
friend. They all want to see you before you leave tomorrow, Char.”
My mom said as she dried her hands off on the well-worn dishtowel
beside the sink.

“Grandma Rose has a new friend?” CeCe asked
with a slight twist of her neck and raised eyebrows.

“I want to meet him too,” Richie smiled.

“Just don’t ask him too many questions at
dinner Ce or Rose will yank your ear off,” I said seriously.

“True story.” Richie said pointing to his
ear.

“She did not pull your ear off Richie.” My
mother raised her voice from the laundry room.

“Mom, I had to have a stitch put in the back
of my ear.” Richie said with his finger showing off the spot.

“That’s only because you jerked away when
she was holding onto your ear after you mouthed off to her.” I
said, defending my sweet but brazen grandmother.

My grandma Rose, my dad’s mom, is one of the
toughest women you’ll ever meet. She’s also very cunning. Not only
did she raise six kids on her own and run the peach orchard, which
my dad took over just before marrying my mother, she was also the
chair person for this committee, president for that club, and
school board member at St. Marys. Everyone knows my grandma in this
small town. My grandpa, who I never met, died very young while
working one hot summer day in the orchard. My grandmother found him
when she went out to take him his lunch. When the ambulance arrived
they could not find a pulse. Later, she found out that he’d had a
heart attack. She said that at first she was so devastated that it
paralyzed her from taking care of her kids, the farm, or any of the
other responsibilities on her plate. My grandmother has always
credited God and the love and support of a few good friends, namely
Evi, for getting her through those hard times. Although, I suspect
the nice tall glass of spirited lemonade she carries around helped
a bit too. My grandma still places a high value of keeping up with
her friends. For a seventy-year old granny, she maintains a
bustling schedule full of bridge, bingo, shopping and plenty of
mini vacations with her girlfriends. I can always tell when she did
well at bingo because she doesn’t get home until late—no doubt
celebrating her victories over dinner with friends. After my father
took over the farm, she had a quaint cottage built for her by the
weeping willows overlooking the small lake behind the orchard. She
said some of her most memorable experiences were spent by that lake
and she wanted to wake up to happy memories every day. You could
catch her starring out at the lake at times, smiling, quietly to
herself, like she had some great kept secret. Rose, although she is
empathetic, is not the person you’d go to if you were feeling sorry
for yourself. Despite her losses in life, she’s chosen to focus on
the wins only. She’s a fighter in true southern femme style. If
nothing else, she has taught me to hold on to the good things in
life- especially to the friends who stick with you through thick
and thin and… mud.

“Okay Richie, enough reminiscing. We need to
get going if we’re going to get in Trixie’s and the beach before
dinner.” I called back to him from the stairway.