Read Online These Boots Weren't Made for Walking by Melody Carlson - Free Book Online
Authors: Melody Carlson
Ads: Link
town has grown since my sisters and I left home, but for the most part it feels the same. To my astonishment, I really feel like I'm coming home. I also feel like my tails between my legs at the moment, but Til get over that. Besides, I remind myself, I'm here to help Mom.
When I get to her house, no one is home. That doesn't surprise me, and I know where she hides the key under the flowerpot (so original). Anyway, I suspect she's at Warner's Groceries, stocking up on things we'll need because my homecoming has caught her totally by surprise. She probably got up early this morning, straightened things, aired out my room, and suddenly realized she needed groceries.
I decide to take advantage of her absence by emptying out the moving van into the big three-car garage. It's funny seeing it empty like this, though. I remember when all three of us girls were at home and driving, and how we fought over parking spaces. I back up the truck and start unloading. Today I'm thankful for my Spartan ways, since the heaviest thing I own is the futon frame, which slides out fairly easily. I scoot things around, working up a sweat as I shove everything up against one wall, making sure Mom will have plenty of room to park her old Suburban.
My sisters and I have been telling her to get rid of the old gashog, but she insists it's still handy for getting plants and mulch and things from the nursery. “I don't drive much anyway,” she told me the last time we talked about it. I felt so sad when she said this. She sounded forlorn, as if she were some litde old lady who should just give it up altogether.
Finally I get the last of my big stuff out, then I take Felix's crate and my personal luggage into the house. I'm surprised to see that a few things have changed in here, but maybe that's good. Maybe it's Mom's attempt at starting over. I have to admit that big white sectional really brightens up the great room, although it needs some colored pillows to cheer it up. Maybe she and I can work on this later, I think as I haul my bags upstairs to my old bedroom. My sisters and I always stay in our old rooms when we're home. Mom's made changes to them over the years, and I know other people have stayed in them, but we still call them
our
rooms.
I'm a little dismayed to open the door and smell how stuffy my room is. But I figure Mom was busy getting other things ready. It's a crisp, clear autumn day, so I go ahead and open the windows wide, letting the fresh air waft in. Then I get Felix set up, deciding to confine him to my room for starters so he can get used to the change. And then I wander around the house.
I'm pleased to see that Mom's allowed some of our old family photos to return to the walls. I know she hated seeing my dad's smiling face among the rest of us, but how do you erase all those years without erasing the whole family? I study the last one taken. It was at Christmas shortly after Callie's twins were born. We thinkDad was already involved with Michelle by then. Thirty-five-year-old Michelle, who graduated from high school just ahead of Cal-lie. We couldn't believe that she and our dad had really hooked up. She could be his daughter—such a scandal in a small town like Black Bear.
I study this family portrait of mostly smiling adults and two chubby baby boys, thinking how odd it is that the age gap between us and our parents somehow narrowed over the passing years. My parents were relatively young when they started their family. Not that they ever spoke of this much. It always embarrassed Mom to admit that Callie was born only six months after their first anniversary. She blamed it on Dad, the tall, handsome law student who seduced her when she was only a junior in college. And he blamed it on her for being “too darned pretty.” Who would've thought those two would ever part? Even thinking of it now puts a lump in my throat. Poor Mom. I'm so glad I came. It's almost four o'clock, and I wonder where she is.
I decide to go
When I get to her house, no one is home. That doesn't surprise me, and I know where she hides the key under the flowerpot (so original). Anyway, I suspect she's at Warner's Groceries, stocking up on things we'll need because my homecoming has caught her totally by surprise. She probably got up early this morning, straightened things, aired out my room, and suddenly realized she needed groceries.
I decide to take advantage of her absence by emptying out the moving van into the big three-car garage. It's funny seeing it empty like this, though. I remember when all three of us girls were at home and driving, and how we fought over parking spaces. I back up the truck and start unloading. Today I'm thankful for my Spartan ways, since the heaviest thing I own is the futon frame, which slides out fairly easily. I scoot things around, working up a sweat as I shove everything up against one wall, making sure Mom will have plenty of room to park her old Suburban.
My sisters and I have been telling her to get rid of the old gashog, but she insists it's still handy for getting plants and mulch and things from the nursery. “I don't drive much anyway,” she told me the last time we talked about it. I felt so sad when she said this. She sounded forlorn, as if she were some litde old lady who should just give it up altogether.
Finally I get the last of my big stuff out, then I take Felix's crate and my personal luggage into the house. I'm surprised to see that a few things have changed in here, but maybe that's good. Maybe it's Mom's attempt at starting over. I have to admit that big white sectional really brightens up the great room, although it needs some colored pillows to cheer it up. Maybe she and I can work on this later, I think as I haul my bags upstairs to my old bedroom. My sisters and I always stay in our old rooms when we're home. Mom's made changes to them over the years, and I know other people have stayed in them, but we still call them
our
rooms.
I'm a little dismayed to open the door and smell how stuffy my room is. But I figure Mom was busy getting other things ready. It's a crisp, clear autumn day, so I go ahead and open the windows wide, letting the fresh air waft in. Then I get Felix set up, deciding to confine him to my room for starters so he can get used to the change. And then I wander around the house.
I'm pleased to see that Mom's allowed some of our old family photos to return to the walls. I know she hated seeing my dad's smiling face among the rest of us, but how do you erase all those years without erasing the whole family? I study the last one taken. It was at Christmas shortly after Callie's twins were born. We thinkDad was already involved with Michelle by then. Thirty-five-year-old Michelle, who graduated from high school just ahead of Cal-lie. We couldn't believe that she and our dad had really hooked up. She could be his daughter—such a scandal in a small town like Black Bear.
I study this family portrait of mostly smiling adults and two chubby baby boys, thinking how odd it is that the age gap between us and our parents somehow narrowed over the passing years. My parents were relatively young when they started their family. Not that they ever spoke of this much. It always embarrassed Mom to admit that Callie was born only six months after their first anniversary. She blamed it on Dad, the tall, handsome law student who seduced her when she was only a junior in college. And he blamed it on her for being “too darned pretty.” Who would've thought those two would ever part? Even thinking of it now puts a lump in my throat. Poor Mom. I'm so glad I came. It's almost four o'clock, and I wonder where she is.
I decide to go
Similar Books
