reach her. She was doing a pretty good job of avoiding me, but I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. I sent her a text: HEY SIS—LUNCH SOON? CALL ME @ HOME LTR.
My hope was that a friendly text would stand a better chance of getting her to respond. I was still pretty new at this guardian business. And it was proving to be tricky, so I had to proceed with caution. On the one hand, I wanted to set some strict limits so her drinking wouldn’t get out of control. On the other hand, I had to make sure I wasn’t too harsh or she’d shut me out and never tell me anything. I needed to be a parent and a sister and a friend all at the same time.
I’d walked to The Finish Line this morning just to try to clear my head a little, so I didn’t have my car handy. I decided to ride the local trolley home. It stopped across the street about every fifteen minutes and a glance at my store clock told me it was due in a couple of minutes. I grabbed a spare sweatshirt, locked up, and walked over just as the trolley pulled up. It would drop me off about a block from my apartment.
I was glad for the chance to sit for a while. And to think.
Levi had taken me by surprise. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t usually go around letting myself be kissed by guys I hardly know. Maybe I was just a little off balance because of my skinned knee.
You’re a big girl
, I told myself,
try to be realistic
. He’ll be singing at the casino for, what? Maybe another week? He’s just a guy enjoying the local “scenery” while he’s in town. Then he’ll be on to the next city, and the next, and the next, enjoying each new bit of local color as he goes.
Still, he wanted to see me again. Tomorrow night! I’d have to get Jess to help me figure out what to wear. There was no doubt that I wanted to see him again, too.
I got up and pulled the string that alerted the driver I wanted to get off at the next stop. Right now, all I wanted was a long soak in a hot bath followed by an early bedtime.
In my apartment, I sank into my favorite chair as the tub filled. I couldn’t resist sending Jess a text: JST BK FRM A RUN W LEVI. DATE SUN NITE.
Almost immediately she shot back: HOW IS THS FAIR?? I M THE FAN NT U!!
I typed out the reply: ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE & WAR. But I didn’t hit send. I knew this wasn’t war, but love? It felt dangerous just using the word, even as a joke. Instead I backspaced and typed: TUFF. SEE U @ TFL 2MOR
I stripped off my clothes, yanked off the bandages and climbed into the tub.
# # # # #
from Levi McCrory’s song notebook
“When It’s Right”—verse 1
Well, my mama made fried chicken every Sunday after church
and my cousins made sure they were always there
And we’d eat and lick our fingers and we’d talk and joke and laugh
and my pop would sigh and lean back in his chair.
And my aunts would always ask my mom to tell her how to make it
and to write it down so they could make it too.
But Mama never used a recipe,
She never measured anything.
She told them this and now I’m telling you:
Chorus:
When it’s right (clap clap), you just know it.
You can feel it in your heart and in your hands.
You don’t need to overthink it
’cause you’ll know it when you feel it
(4 guitar chords or claps)
And when you feel it, then I know you’ll understand.
This is the first line dance song that’s popped into my head in a long, long time. Must be channeling Billy Ray or something. Or maybe it was seeing people in the audience dancing in the aisles. I love it when they’re up out of their seats. This really needs a very upbeat tune to keep it from going all sappy. Reminds me of Mom. Thanks, Mom!
# # # # #
Ally never did call me that night and I was torn between being ticked and being grateful. After my bath, I grabbed some blueberries and cottage cheese out of the refrigerator, toasted a bagel, and settled down to eat in front of the TV. I’m not
My hope was that a friendly text would stand a better chance of getting her to respond. I was still pretty new at this guardian business. And it was proving to be tricky, so I had to proceed with caution. On the one hand, I wanted to set some strict limits so her drinking wouldn’t get out of control. On the other hand, I had to make sure I wasn’t too harsh or she’d shut me out and never tell me anything. I needed to be a parent and a sister and a friend all at the same time.
I’d walked to The Finish Line this morning just to try to clear my head a little, so I didn’t have my car handy. I decided to ride the local trolley home. It stopped across the street about every fifteen minutes and a glance at my store clock told me it was due in a couple of minutes. I grabbed a spare sweatshirt, locked up, and walked over just as the trolley pulled up. It would drop me off about a block from my apartment.
I was glad for the chance to sit for a while. And to think.
Levi had taken me by surprise. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t usually go around letting myself be kissed by guys I hardly know. Maybe I was just a little off balance because of my skinned knee.
You’re a big girl
, I told myself,
try to be realistic
. He’ll be singing at the casino for, what? Maybe another week? He’s just a guy enjoying the local “scenery” while he’s in town. Then he’ll be on to the next city, and the next, and the next, enjoying each new bit of local color as he goes.
Still, he wanted to see me again. Tomorrow night! I’d have to get Jess to help me figure out what to wear. There was no doubt that I wanted to see him again, too.
I got up and pulled the string that alerted the driver I wanted to get off at the next stop. Right now, all I wanted was a long soak in a hot bath followed by an early bedtime.
In my apartment, I sank into my favorite chair as the tub filled. I couldn’t resist sending Jess a text: JST BK FRM A RUN W LEVI. DATE SUN NITE.
Almost immediately she shot back: HOW IS THS FAIR?? I M THE FAN NT U!!
I typed out the reply: ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE & WAR. But I didn’t hit send. I knew this wasn’t war, but love? It felt dangerous just using the word, even as a joke. Instead I backspaced and typed: TUFF. SEE U @ TFL 2MOR
I stripped off my clothes, yanked off the bandages and climbed into the tub.
# # # # #
from Levi McCrory’s song notebook
“When It’s Right”—verse 1
Well, my mama made fried chicken every Sunday after church
and my cousins made sure they were always there
And we’d eat and lick our fingers and we’d talk and joke and laugh
and my pop would sigh and lean back in his chair.
And my aunts would always ask my mom to tell her how to make it
and to write it down so they could make it too.
But Mama never used a recipe,
She never measured anything.
She told them this and now I’m telling you:
Chorus:
When it’s right (clap clap), you just know it.
You can feel it in your heart and in your hands.
You don’t need to overthink it
’cause you’ll know it when you feel it
(4 guitar chords or claps)
And when you feel it, then I know you’ll understand.
This is the first line dance song that’s popped into my head in a long, long time. Must be channeling Billy Ray or something. Or maybe it was seeing people in the audience dancing in the aisles. I love it when they’re up out of their seats. This really needs a very upbeat tune to keep it from going all sappy. Reminds me of Mom. Thanks, Mom!
# # # # #
Ally never did call me that night and I was torn between being ticked and being grateful. After my bath, I grabbed some blueberries and cottage cheese out of the refrigerator, toasted a bagel, and settled down to eat in front of the TV. I’m not
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