Once Upon a Misty Bluegrass Hill

by Rebecca Bernadette Mance

  "You know I don't like those parties and all those men that come in and out…and the drugs and so much alcohol."

  "Well, young lady now that you went to that fancy girl's college you are too good for your poor old Aunt Paula who took you in when you were a young 'in without your mom and daddy."

  The father busted open a beer and leaned back in his aluminum chair.

  Why didn't he find a job so his family could live somewhere besides a dingy motel?

  She really should get a better place to stay herself between now and when she moved into her new place, but it was just too much of a bother. It was only a few more days after all. Everything had been filled up for the Derby so she had to take what she could get. Now that the Derby was over she should find something better.

  Of course Summer Storm had won. She presumed Patrick took Leona to the Galt House.

  Ugh. It was too much.

  She didn't have the heart to go to the Derby. She might have seen Patrick and Leona in the box seat.

  Probably not...but why risk it?

  "I don't think I am too good for anybody Aunt Paula."

  The bank account Patrick had set up for her had been substantial. In fact, it had been more plentiful than she ever imagined. In her thinking, she was rich.

  "I agree with that....I'd say you were pretty trashy by doing it out in a pasture…though I have to hand it to you, I ain't never tried that myself."

  Swimming in humiliation, Jolene turned back around to Aunt Paula's intense mascara stare. "If you are going to be crude, please don't. I just don't need it right now."

  Aunt Paula took a tissue from the nightstand and touched the corners of her eyes. "Well it is just that you think you are too good to come live with me and pay a little rent, 'specially since I need the extra cash right now."

  This was really too much. "What about if I just give you some cash to make up for hurting your feelings?"

  Aunt Paula smiled large, her front tooth boasting a trace of her red lipstick. She set to chewing her gum quickly. "Well I would say that would be right nice of you Jolene. I always told your mother you were a good girl."

  "I bought a Ford Escape several days ago. Do you want me to give you a lift home? How did you get here anyway?" Jolene picked up her keys hoping Aunt Paula would get the hint just this once. Jolene was heart-weary and tired of thinking about Patrick, let alone talking about him to Aunt Paula.

  Aunt Paula pulled the plastic strap of her purse over her tank-top-clad shoulder and stood up. "Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me? It isn't like you got a lot of friends, especially now…only Aunt Paula understands what drove you. You the same as me, we like the hot sex."

  Jolene felt her face melting with heat. "Aunt Paula, please!"

  Aunt Paula cackled and walked to the door. "But you ain't never had sex until then did you Jolene? Hold 'in out for a good one…now that is smart."

  "I don't want to hear another word Aunt Paula. There was nothing planned, it just happened. I wish I could go back and undo it all now."

  Aunt Paula opened the door and stepped out. "Heard tell that Leona could hear you two a' crying and a' moaning all the way down to the house. "

  Jolene was steaming mad now. "Give it up right now, not another word! Do you need a ride home? Because if you do, you better be quiet right now!"

  Aunt Paula put her nose up and sashayed out to Jolene's truck. "Travis dropped me off on his way into town. I had heard you got a truck so I knew you would give me a lift on home."

  Jolene locked the motel door, anger and abasement suffusing her. "I have a million errands to run and furniture to purchase for my new place."

  They got into the Ford and Jolene started the engine. She wanted to floor the gas pedal of the truck to the floorboard and race Aunt Paula all the way home so she could be alone to cry her eyes out.

  Yet another time.

  Instead, she backed out of the parking space with deliberate care.

  "Don't forget about giving me some money Jolene. I don't want you to forget about that."

  Chapter 21

  When our twenty-three year old son, Warren Dale died, my husband’s mother and I were setting the table for the gathering after the funeral with my much used china (that looked as good as new) and her with her little-used silverware. As she placed the silverware on the table she said to me, “Now Margarette, this is why you save things, so that you will have them for times like this.”

  I turned to her and said gently, “Oh Mother, I’m so glad that I let Dale eat from my best china instead of saving it. For what person here today is more important to us than he is?” - Mary Margarette Donnelly Hill - From her vignettes "Moonshine, Mountains and Memories of my Grandmother".

  She had purchased the bag of apples and put them in the Ford on impulse. She had not seen Storm in a month.

  The trouble was, what would be said about her returning to McCabe Farm after all that had happened? Leona and Patrick were having their official engagement party in a month. Patrick's family was to arrive in the U.S. for the party and then Patrick and Leona were to go to Ireland for the month after that so Leona and Patrick's mother could make wedding plans in Ireland. Leona made sure the entire city of Paris knew about every detail…even the kind of dress she was going to buy in Paris, France when she went shopping there with Patrick's mother.

  Ugh…it was just too much to tolerate … all of it.

  If she wasn't already starting her semester she would have applied to another school in another town.

  Another state.

  Another continent.

  She pulled up to the fence. Oliver and Finnegan jumped and barked with excitement, slobbering and fogging the back windows. The mist rose on the hill in the early morning. Jolene gulped away the lump that slid into her throat and opened the truck door. "Now don't go too far pups, do you hear me? We are not supposed to be here."

  They took off wagging their tails and smelling the ground with collie abandon. "Both of you better listen to me and not go far, do you hear? Do not go up to the house."

  They disappeared into the mist. They would come if she called. Hopefully they would not wander close enough to the houses for anyone to see and recognize them.

  "Yooo hooo, Storm. Where are you my pretty boy."

  She heard him neigh from a distance. Then his hooves pounded heavy on the wet ground toward her. Her own heart thumped in reaction. She always missed him. She had been away too long at school and now she had moved away. When she was home before and it wasn't too cold she rode him every day.

  The last time she rode him was that day when she lay in the grass with Patrick and loved him with all her heart.

  Storm was woven into her heart and life carrying both of their bittersweet memories.

  He broke through the mist and galloped to the fence tossing his head and neighing in quiet greeting. She laughed softly and petted his nose. He snorted his happy low hum. She giggled and took his head down to hug his big gray nose. "Oh how I have missed you."

  She pulled the apple from her coat pocket and served it up to him. He gave her another appreciative snort.

  "He misses yer too." Patrick's soft baritone voice reached her from inside the mist.

  The dogs ran up next to him barking and dancing their happiness.

  Traitors.

  Jolene spun around to go back to her car. It was a terrible mistake to come here.

  "Come on pups, let's go."

  "Jolene."

  "No Patrick."

  "Jolene."

  She sucked in the sob. "No Patrick."

  "Let's natter a while."

  She spun back around to punch into his violet gaze. His eyes were filled with regret. Sorrow.

  "Natter? Nothing we have to say to each other is so casual."

  "Talk then."

  Her heart burned. "What's to talk about?"

  He reached the fence post and hiked his arm up on the horizontal pole. His t-shirt fit his torso like a glove. His eyes were
glowing into hers pulling her toward him.

  Oh how those muscled arms and chest had felt under her hand that day in the driving rain. She would never forget that memory.

  "I should'na have let you take the blame for what happened. It was me that was the older, more responsible person."

  She stepped back from the emotional pull. Would her heart always palpitate like this when she saw him? "It's too late to say you're sorry Patrick. Go back to your fiancée. I can't believe she took you back."

  "Was it in your plan that way Jolene?"

  Jolene wanted to back away from him and run to her truck, squeal away on burning rubber in a fit of drama. Instead, she looked past him to the pasture where the mist was clearing. She could see her family home. "Did I plan for us to have sex? Or get caught? Or what? What do you mean Patrick? You came out to that field. I don't know what happened."

  He pinned her back inside of his morning glory gaze again. "You hated Leona."

  Jolene pulled out another apple and pitched it over to storm who was straining over the fence beside Patrick. "I hated her then and I hate her now."

  "Why Jolene?"

  Jolene hissed and shook her head. "Figure it out Patrick." She knew she sounded bitter. But then, she felt bitter. "She would end up living here with you, where was that going to leave me?"

  Patrick pounded the fence and swore. "So you lay with me out of revenge? To stop her from taking yur family farm? What?"

  "That is so dumb Patrick. You think I would have sex with a man for revenge?"

  "I'd think not because you'd never lain with a man yet, but I need to get to the bottom of this for both of our sakes and so I can move on with Leona."

  Jolene felt the blows of his words. "Why does it matter? Maybe I just got caught in the heat of the moment."

  "Araah girl."

  "Don't start that with me Patrick. Everything is the same. You are marrying Leona…why... I really don't know…I'd never marry a man I saw screwing another woman."

  Patrick started to scale the fence. "Don't cha' dare be talking trash like that to me Jolene May McKnight."

  Jolene spun back around and ran to the door of the Ford and swung it open. "Get inside pups, now!"

  Oliver and Finnegan dutifully jumped in whining their protests and looking back at Patrick through the closed door window with longing and sadness.

  "We are done with our natter Patrick. There is nothing left to be said."

  "You can come back and see Storm any time you want. You don't have to come to the back gate."

  She slid into the seat of her truck and buckled her seat belt with shaking fingers and an aching heart. "I bet Leona would like that a lot."

  Patrick got to her door before she could slam it closed. "I am sorry about what I did to yer Jolene."

  "Back off Patrick."

  His eyes found her heart and tugged. "Just stop and listen to me for a minute. I want to know if yur pregnant or anything? Are you alright?"

  "No. There is no baby, thank God." She ran her hand over her ponytail and sighed. "I am done Patrick. There isn't anything to discuss."

  He swore. "I just want to tell yer I am sorry. I should never have allowed it to happen and I am very sorry for what I did."

  Jolene pulled on the door with all her might. He stepped back and Jolene slammed the door holding back the scores of emotions that jammed through her like a jackhammer.

  She rolled down the window as she drove away. "You could not possibly be more sorry than me Patrick."

  Chapter 22

  The Appalachian woman has been called many things….granny woman, granny witch, water witch, to name a few. The amazing history of the Appalachian Mountains and its women holds many secrets.

  These women were leaders in their community. They had golden hearts, loving and generous ways. They also had healing skills. They were a funny mix of Christians and often Pagans. The family secrets and practices were passed down from generation to generation. The pagan practices changed somewhat because of the exposure to the Christian religions. The healing continued but the love and appreciation of nature was constant.

  These women had to become midwives. They served as the local substitute for the rare doctors and a natural pharmacy source. They created poultices from roots and herbs to soothe illness and often helped to birth a baby in the same day. They were and are brave, strong, heroic women.

  All healing came from old rituals brought over to our country from Ireland and Scotland. Many also had a mix Cherokee and other Native American decedents with their own practices. A remarkable number of the Appalachians were a mix of Irish, Scottish, Cherokee, and various other European countries.

  "Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession…no…maybe three."

  The curtain moved but Jolene could not see Father Dougherty on the other side other than his shadowed profile. She hoped he couldn't see her either. Her mother and father had taken her to the Church of the Annunciation since she was a tiny girl. She had gone to school at the adjoining St. Mary's school.

  Now she only came on breaks. Maybe Father Dougherty would not remember her even if he could see her.

  The Vance Catholic Boarding School had several churches near them that the girls could choose from to attend. Jolene had gone to St. Jude's but it had never been the same as Church of the Annunciation.

  "Child, tell me what troubles you."

  "I had sex with a man…I mean, a man I was not married to."

  "Many a good woman fall into this. You know that God will forgive you if you are really sorry and hopefully you will not let yourself fall again."

  "Well, that is just it father. I am sorry in some ways, but not in others. I loved him so very much you see. We did it out in the pasture and everybody all over town knows and that is the part that I am probably the most sorry for."

  There was a pause. Father Dougherty cleared his throat.

  "Well, you must be sorry and do your penance…but perhaps the fact that it is all over town and you have suffered with this humiliation is your penance and will remind you why one must wait until marriage."

  "You mean I don't have to say a hundred Hail Mary's or anything like that?"

  Father Dougherty laughed with soft compassion. "I think it would be good for your soul to say the Stations of the Cross to reflect and meditate about what you have done and what kind of woman you want to be."

  Jolene hesitated. What kind of woman did she want to be?

  "I think I might have wanted revenge. I hated his fiancé you see. I think that makes the sin a lot worse."

  "Indeed it does. But you said you loved him and was that not at the core of what you did more so than the idea of revenge or because you hated his fiancé?"

  Jolene searched her heart. Yes, she had always loved Patrick. Probably from the first moment he came out of the mist on the hill so dark green it was blue and looked at her with eyes the color of morning glories in spring.

  "Yes, Father, you are right. I did it because I loved him. Maybe the other things were just excuses to do something bad."

  "Go then, young lady. After Mass you can complete your Stations of the Cross and go with God from this day on."

  "Thank you Father."

  The little door slid closed and Jolene popped up off of her knees feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her heart.

  She quietly exited the Confessional and made her way to a pew to wait for Mass to begin.

  She sat there and looked around at the beautiful church. The elaborate cross, the Stations that ran along either side of the Church where she had spent many hours reciting her Hail Mary's and Our Fathers...all of which gave her comfort and a new balance.

  The church got more and more crowded.

  Big Catholic families.

  She always wanted a big family too. She and her parents had come to this Church and sat together as a family.

  Oh how she missed her momma and daddy.

  Would she
ever find a man to match Patrick?

  That jerk!

  A Hispanic family filed in next to her. Jolene smiled and moved into the pew as far as she could go to give them space.

  Jolene let the memories of her family wash over her like a warm tide. Her daddy held her hand when they went into the Church. They had wanted more children but Jolene's mamma was unable to carry them for very long.

  A man slid in the pew next to her.

  His familiar scent immediately assaulted her. She turned her head unable to believe her senses.

  He met her gaze with eyes of smoky violet.

  She glared at him. "What are you doing here?" she whispered. "And why did you have to sit next to me?"

  "I go to Church Jolene; my mother would not like it otherwise," he whispered back in a dark brandy voice and chuckled.

  She jerked her floral skirt from under his pants leg. He was dressed in a suit without a tie. All the women were craning their heads to stare at him.

  She started to stand up and move away from him but a quick glance told her that all the seats were filled. Besides, why cause yet another scene?

  "Where is your girlfriend?"

  "Not Catholic."

  Jolene laughed a soft devious laugh. "I bet your mother loves that part."

  "My mother knows all about Leona. It is a negative, but she has a lot of other positives."

  "Like being a horrible snob? How about being a ….well…I better not say it in Church."

  He leaned closer, his heat penetrating her lavender cotton shirt that matched her floral skirt. "Jolene…please, I want us to be friends at least. After everything. I know it was my fault. I am old enough to know better. I have made peace with Leona but I need to make it up to yer."

  Jolene could have died then and there. "Shush Patrick. Please, this is no time to be talking about this! We are in CHURCH after all!" Her voice was a hiss in his ear.

  "Jolene…" The organ started playing and the altar boys walked solemnly to the front of the church followed by Father Dougherty carrying the intricate cross that Jolene had memorized in detail from childhood.