Read Online Small Town Girl by Lavyrle Spencer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lavyrle Spencer
Tags: Fiction
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the MCA guys don't want to name it after a song that's been done before, no matter how old it is or how different from our version, so I don't know what's going to happen."
"
Single Girl
would be appropriate for you, I suppose," Mary remarked.
Tess repressed a sigh of exasperation. "I know you wish I'd get married, Momma, but it's just not practical in my career. And besides, I haven't met anybody."
"Well, what about this Burt?"
They reached the intersection of Highway 67 and Tess turned left toward Poplar Bluff. "I hardly know him. Don't push this, please, Momma. I'm happy doing what I'm doing, and until I'm not, marriage isn't something I'm interested in."
"But you're thirty-five already."
"Meaning what? No children?"
"Well, it's something to think about."
"I'd make a terrible mother."
"No, you wouldn't. You've just never given the idea a chance."
"Please, Mom…"
"Your sisters are good mothers. What makes you think you wouldn't be?"
"Momma, I don't
want
to be!"
"Why, that's nonsense. Every woman wants to be a mother."
Every woman did
not
want to be, but there was no convincing Mary. She was of the old school who believed it was every female's mandate to give birth just because she was born with the right equipment. She probably believed that every homeless person deserved to be on the streets, and every person with the HIV virus was homosexual, too. Though she never raised her voice, there was a relentless-ness in the quiet attitude that never changed, a stubbornness that warned,
Mind closed
. It was the same way at home about changing the house, cooking fatty foods, throwing away old clothes and planting a garden. Day two of Tess's stint back home, and four weeks were beginning to look longer and longer.
"Mom, I'm not going to argue anymore."
"Why, Tess, I'm not arguing," Mary claimed, in the same sweet voice that made Tess want to hook the seat belt across her mouth. "I'm just saying, it's not natural to stay single and not have babies. Turn left here. The hospital's on Pine."
By the time she pulled up beneath the porte cochere of
Doctors Hospital, Tess was more than ready to get out of the car.
"Stay here, Mom. I'll get a wheelchair for you."
She drew in a humongous breath to calm her nerves as she headed into the brown brick building.
How can I love her and want to throttle her at the same time
?
Two women looked up from behind the reception desk. One was stocky, about thirty, with brittle brown hair and fat cheeks, wearing a snagged white sweater. Her name tag said Maria. The other was older, trimmer, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair and rimless glasses. Her name tag said Catherine.
"Good morning. I need a wheelchair for my mother. She's having surgery today."
The stocky woman gaped. "Why, you're… you're Tess McPhail, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am."
"Oh, my gosh, I love your music!"
"Thanks."
"I've got two of your albums."
"That's nice. Any chance of getting a wheelchair?"
"Oh! Of course."
Maria nearly broke her legs hurtling around the desk. As Tess strode toward the entrance Maria followed with the chair, her adulating eyes as wide as Judy Garland's when she was planning some musical shindig with Mickey Rooney.
"Got any new records coming out?"
"I'm working on an album now," Tess replied tersely, aware of how readily people who recognized her could become starstruck. The reactions were varied. Some became transfixed. Some acted as if they'd known her since childhood and had a right to pepper her with questions. Others became overly solicitous, ignoring everything else around them. Maria did all three.
"When's it coming out?"
"In the fall."
"Gosh, wait till I tell my mother. She's the one who introduced me to your music when—"
"Excuse me, but I'd like to introduce you to
my
mother, Mary McPhail."
"Oh, gosh, sure. So this is the mother of Butler County's most famous person. Well, you must be mighty proud!" Maria gushed as she helped Mary out of the car.
"Ripley County. We're from
"
Single Girl
would be appropriate for you, I suppose," Mary remarked.
Tess repressed a sigh of exasperation. "I know you wish I'd get married, Momma, but it's just not practical in my career. And besides, I haven't met anybody."
"Well, what about this Burt?"
They reached the intersection of Highway 67 and Tess turned left toward Poplar Bluff. "I hardly know him. Don't push this, please, Momma. I'm happy doing what I'm doing, and until I'm not, marriage isn't something I'm interested in."
"But you're thirty-five already."
"Meaning what? No children?"
"Well, it's something to think about."
"I'd make a terrible mother."
"No, you wouldn't. You've just never given the idea a chance."
"Please, Mom…"
"Your sisters are good mothers. What makes you think you wouldn't be?"
"Momma, I don't
want
to be!"
"Why, that's nonsense. Every woman wants to be a mother."
Every woman did
not
want to be, but there was no convincing Mary. She was of the old school who believed it was every female's mandate to give birth just because she was born with the right equipment. She probably believed that every homeless person deserved to be on the streets, and every person with the HIV virus was homosexual, too. Though she never raised her voice, there was a relentless-ness in the quiet attitude that never changed, a stubbornness that warned,
Mind closed
. It was the same way at home about changing the house, cooking fatty foods, throwing away old clothes and planting a garden. Day two of Tess's stint back home, and four weeks were beginning to look longer and longer.
"Mom, I'm not going to argue anymore."
"Why, Tess, I'm not arguing," Mary claimed, in the same sweet voice that made Tess want to hook the seat belt across her mouth. "I'm just saying, it's not natural to stay single and not have babies. Turn left here. The hospital's on Pine."
By the time she pulled up beneath the porte cochere of
Doctors Hospital, Tess was more than ready to get out of the car.
"Stay here, Mom. I'll get a wheelchair for you."
She drew in a humongous breath to calm her nerves as she headed into the brown brick building.
How can I love her and want to throttle her at the same time
?
Two women looked up from behind the reception desk. One was stocky, about thirty, with brittle brown hair and fat cheeks, wearing a snagged white sweater. Her name tag said Maria. The other was older, trimmer, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair and rimless glasses. Her name tag said Catherine.
"Good morning. I need a wheelchair for my mother. She's having surgery today."
The stocky woman gaped. "Why, you're… you're Tess McPhail, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am."
"Oh, my gosh, I love your music!"
"Thanks."
"I've got two of your albums."
"That's nice. Any chance of getting a wheelchair?"
"Oh! Of course."
Maria nearly broke her legs hurtling around the desk. As Tess strode toward the entrance Maria followed with the chair, her adulating eyes as wide as Judy Garland's when she was planning some musical shindig with Mickey Rooney.
"Got any new records coming out?"
"I'm working on an album now," Tess replied tersely, aware of how readily people who recognized her could become starstruck. The reactions were varied. Some became transfixed. Some acted as if they'd known her since childhood and had a right to pepper her with questions. Others became overly solicitous, ignoring everything else around them. Maria did all three.
"When's it coming out?"
"In the fall."
"Gosh, wait till I tell my mother. She's the one who introduced me to your music when—"
"Excuse me, but I'd like to introduce you to
my
mother, Mary McPhail."
"Oh, gosh, sure. So this is the mother of Butler County's most famous person. Well, you must be mighty proud!" Maria gushed as she helped Mary out of the car.
"Ripley County. We're from
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