by Lisa Smartt
“Welcome, Robertsons! Shayla, you too, friend!”
While Dave and Ashley were giving instructions to Collin before he hit the swing set, Shayla walked onto the porch alone. Dusty, Matthew, and Doug rose from their chairs because that’s what gentlemen do when they meet a woman.
“Doug, Honey, this is Shayla, Ashley’s agent, friend, and confidante. Oh, and Shayla, this is Doug, the love of my life. And this is Dusty, our friend for what seems like forever. His wife, Clara, who has been my friend since leg warmers were in…and this is our new friend, Matthew. Matthew Prescott.”
Shayla shook Doug’s hand, then Dusty’s. Finally, she shook Matthew’s hand and looked into his eyes. “Nice to meet you. All of you.”
Dusty spoke up, “Welcome to Sharon, Shayla. What brings you to our beautiful neck of the woods?”
“Ashley just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I’d never been to Tennessee and she shamed me and convinced me such neglect was almost un-American.” She laughed. “But I’m glad she did. I like it here. It’s beautiful.”
We did all the regular stuff we do on Friday nights. The pizza man brought pizza. Doug let James drink orange soda, which made him burp so loud the neighbors probably heard it. We felt we should scold rather than laugh. But everyone knows a curly-headed burping five-year-old is one of life’s amusing treasures.
Beau took his first real steps, right there on the porch. We all took pictures and video. Clara cried and called Aunt Charlotte with the news. Y’see, Beau is eighteen months old and they were beginning to wonder if he’d ever let go, step out…trust himself. It’s a scary thing. Not being afraid. Letting go. Just ask Matthew Prescott.
I knew the kids would soon get cranky and everyone would make plans to leave. So I made an announcement. “Oh, guess what? I have news. Big news! And it involves all of you, or it could anyway. Let’s go inside and let the kids play in James’ room and we can all sit in the living room.”
When everyone had found a comfortable spot, I made my introduction. “Shayla McGuire is our guest tonight. Yes. But she’s also here to pitch an idea. If you hate the idea, I think we all should blame Shayla and Hollywood in general.” They chuckled. “But if you love the idea? Well, if you love it, I’m happy to take partial credit. Shayla, you have the floor….even though it’s covered with toys!”
She leaned forward as though she were a teacher telling her class they could all get into the prize box and retrieve a toy. “Carlie has given me an idea, a great idea. But it involves your cooperation, your willingness to see it through. My dad and I are wanting to pitch a new reality show to A & E. And we may have found our subjects right here, in Sharon.”
Dusty hollered out, “Oh no! Aunt Charlotte and her magic pickles are gonna be famous! Weakley County will never be able to recover. Wal-Mart will be selling ‘Uncle Bart’s Buttermilk’ shirts by the end of the year.” He looked straight at Shayla. “Tell me it’s not true. And tell me she won’t have to give up those knee-high hose and housecoat dresses!” Everyone laughed.
Shayla smiled. “Sadly, I haven’t met Aunt Charlotte yet. So, no. The people I’m talking about are here, in the room right now. Dusty, from what I hear, you’re pretty vocal with your life story. Why not take it to a national audience? I promise we’d treat it with respect. Ex-con overcomes all kinds of tragedy and finds new life in a sleepy southern town. People love stuff like that.”
Dusty looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, your shop, and well, about Matthew here too. I’m talking about a show that tells your story. But don’t decide right now. And no, it won’t make you look bad or dumb or I don’t know. I’m talking about a story that gives people hope. Isn’t that what you want to do? Give people hope?”
Shayla may only be in her late twenties. But good night. The girl is good. I’m thinking she could sell a sun lamp to the mayor of Phoenix.
The room was quiet. Deathly quiet. She raised her right hand and spoke again. “Look, I am friend, not foe. I promise. Matthew, what do you think? I mean, wouldn’t you want to turn your life story into something that would help people?”
He looked up, making direct eye contact with Shayla. For a moment, he looked just like Beau when he finally let go of the porch rocker and started walking. Fearless. “Is that what reality TV does? It gives people hope? ‘Cause I don’t know. I’m not a big TV watcher, but the reality TV I have seen doesn’t seem to give hope. It exploits people’s mistakes, their bad days. So, no. I wouldn’t want to turn my life into a twenty-minute TV episode every week. I doubt that twenty minutes would change anyone’s life, not for the better anyway. Dusty, do what you want. But count me out. My family has been through enough.”
Dusty cleared his throat. “I don’t understand. I thought you were an agent. You’re saying you’re a producer too?”
“No. But my dad and I, we pitch ideas sometimes. He’s friends with a producer and he’s looking for a new show. They just had one that flopped. Look, I’m not out to exploit anyone and neither is my dad. At least come to Hollywood and talk to him about it. He’s excited about the idea. He doesn’t want something sleazy. And you guys are anything but sleazy. I mean, look at you. You’re successful and happy. What could go wrong?”
Doug was always the voice of reason. “How about everyone just go home and sleep on it? Shayla, when do you go back to California?”
“Monday morning.”
“Okay. Well, that gives them the weekend, right?”
She looked like she’d been hit by a truck. “Well, yes. But honestly, I can’t see the hesitation. Do you know how many people would love to have their own reality TV show?”
Matthew stood. “No. How many?”
For the first time, she looked nervous. “Well, tons of people.”
Matthew picked up his water glass and headed toward the kitchen. “Then maybe you should contact them.”
She followed after him like a puppy wanting attention. “At least think about it. Can you do that?”
He turned around and smiled. “Sure. No man was ever hurt by thinking.”
“And what about you, Dusty? Can I tell my dad you’re at least going to consider the possibility? The trip to California?”
“Things are busy at the shop. I can’t see takin’ off any time soon. But as for the show, yes, I’ll think about it. Matthew’s right. Nothin’ wrong with thinkin’. We better round up the kids.” Ashley and Clara headed down the hallway. Dusty smiled, put his arm around my shoulder, and said with an air of chastisement, “Carlie, are you saying this was your idea?”
“Uh, yeah. Hello! I’m a writer. I’m always looking for a story. And yes, it was my idea because, yeah, I think it could help people. It’s helped me. It’s helped the people of this community. Clearly, it’s helping Matthew.”
Shayla picked up her bright red purse that cost twice as much as Dusty’s work boots. I found myself wishing she had worn jeans and the gray t-shirt to the living room negotiations. Maybe it all would have gone better. She tried to put a happy spin on it. “Well, thanks for thinking about it. If you have any questions, I’m at Dave and Ashley’s all weekend. Oh, and when you’re thinking about it, think about this. Look at Ashley and Carlie. They’re famous. Do you think their lives help people? Their work? Matthew, do they look exploited to you?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know them well enough to know. Let me get back to you on that.”
Chapter 11, CARLIE: The Hard Sell Never Works or Does it?
Shayla was smart enough to leave Dusty and Matthew alone on Saturday. Dave and Ashley took her on a pontoon boat tour of Reelfoot Lake. According to Ashley, Shayla flirted with the good-looking park ranger, took tons of pictures, ate fried fish at Boyette’s, and never once mentioned her business proposal.
But come Sunday morning, I had a feeling the recruiting gloves were back on. Matthew wore his standard khaki pants to church but this time with a white button-down oxford shirt that had been ironed.
Had he ironed it himself? To try to impress Shayla? Or had Mrs. Ida ironed it for him because she didn’t want her new boarder to look like an ex-con? I didn’t bother asking.
Matthew sat next to Uncle Bart and Aunt Charlotte during the church service. That made perfect sense to me. Aunt Charlotte attracts young single men like a magnet. Oh, not for that reason. My word, no. She’s old enough to be Matthew’s grandma and her breath smells like pickles and Fun-yuns.
People are attracted to Aunt Charlotte because she found a crippled bird on her back porch and took care of it until it could fly. She cried when the high school principal was forced into retirement because he had Alzheimers. When Dave went to rehab, she sent him cookies and cheese crackers. She went to the sheriff when Dusty was falsely accused of drug dealing and pleaded his case. I don’t know. It’s like Aunt Charlotte wears a sign that says, “Free hugs” or “No condemnation.” Yeah. I think it’s that last one. Matthew was drawn to Aunt Charlotte for the same reason all of us were. She had assaulted him. Assaulted him with unconditional love.
Dave, Ashley, and Shayla sat on the pew right behind them. It was quite a Sunday too. Mabel led the kids’ choir in “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” complete with hand motions. But on the very last verse, Tyler Mathis grabbed himself and yelled out, “Granny, my pee pee gots to pee pee! My pee pee gots to pee pee!” His grandma was completely mortified because Sally Mathis is the kind of woman who gets mortified pretty easily. She still talks about the day she forgot to paint her eyebrows on and I ran into her at the Dollar General. I never would have even noticed had she not tried to hide behind that big pallet of dog food.
Thankfully, Sarah Simpson saved the day as well as the dignity of the closing song. Tyler was a student in her Sunday School class along with Collin and James. Oh, and Tyler fit right in too…considering he had plenty of hyperactive “boyish charm.” Sarah whisked Tyler off stage all the while whispering, “It’s okay, Honey. We’ll get you to the bathroom.” That made me like Sarah even more. I glanced across the aisle at Jerry Conner and for a moment I felt sad for him. Not only had he humiliated himself at her birthday party last year, but he had actually quenched any possible future with her.
Aunt Charlotte laughed as Sarah discreetly escorted Tyler away. Then Aunt Charlotte shouted, “Keep praisin’ the Lord, Mabel! Keep praisin’ the Lord!” That’s when Mabel cued Mr. Dickenson to continue on the piano and they finished the song. Matthew smiled and put his arm around Aunt Charlotte. I wondered if it was his way of saying, “You are a breath of fresh air.” I felt certain it was.
After service, Shayla acted completely enamored with Matthew Prescott. Was it a form of salesmanship? Or was she one of those gals who always liked men she knew her daddy wouldn’t approve of? I had no way of knowing. She wore a black pencil skirt and a silky white blouse that accentuated all the positive aspects of being a natural beauty. She touched him on the arm and leaned back laughing as they recounted the Tyler Mathis scene. He smiled but never in a flirty way.
When I approached them, Shayla said, “What a great service! Really. And not just the closing song either. No. The whole thing. It was beautiful.” She turned to Matthew. “Are you a church-goer, Matthew? I mean, is this your thing normally?”
“Not growing up, no. But yes, I went to services a lot in prison.”
She placed her arm carefully around his waist and leaned in. “But I’m sure it wasn’t as exciting as that last song, huh?”
He smiled and said nothing.
Sarah Simpson seemed unusually shy as she walked up the center aisle. Aunt Charlotte reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “Here’s the woman who saved the day right here! Shayla, this is our very own Sarah Simpson.”
“Nice to meet you, Sarah. What do you do in this lovely community?”
“I’m a teacher. And of course, a transporter of kids to the bathroom. Obviously.”
Matthew laughed and said, “It’s an important job. At least it was today.”
Sarah started blushing. “Thanks.” She held out her arms as though she were addressing a large crowd. “I live to serve the bathroom needs of kids everywhere.”
I jumped in. “Sarah, come to lunch with us. Please. We’re stuck with all these yahoos. We’d love for you to join us. Doug’s just pickin’ up chicken. There’ll be plenty.”
“Okay. Sure.”
Sarah was dressed appropriately for a porch picnic. She had on bright blue cotton pants and one of those stylish shirts that looks like a big multi-colored silk handkerchief. Uh, I don’t know how to describe it. But I got the definite feeling Sarah Simpson had been shopping at the boutique downtown because she even had on a bright red and white beaded necklace, which could be referred to as a “statement piece.” If you don’t know what a “statement piece” is, you should watch some episodes of “What Not To Wear.” It’s on Netflix. It also looked like she’d gotten highlights and curled her hair with a big curling iron.
Truthfully, Sarah’s appearance was a bit out of character. At her birthday party last year, she wore long ugly denim shorts and a green t-shirt she’d gotten free from the Soybean Festival Fun Run. But today? Well, today she looked like a woman trying to do the best she could to get a man’s attention. Attention in a good way, not like the kind Beyonce gets the morning after a music awards show.
For just a moment I was mad. Mad at the system. The system that hadn’t really changed since the beginning of time. Sarah was funny and kind and she was definitely trying. Trying to be beautiful. Engaging. But Shayla? She didn’t have to try at all. It was effortless. Maddening.
Chapter 12, CARLIE: Winner, Winner…Chicken Dinner
After most of the chicken had been consumed, Aunt Charlotte clapped her hands together. “I have an announcement! I do! That was my last meal right there. My last decent meal anyway.”
Doug stopped cleaning up the boxes. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”
“Yes, somethin’s wrong! I’m fat, Doug! Ain’t you noticed, Hon? I’m fatter than a polar bear or one of ‘em big fat seals. What are they called? Sea lions, yeah. I’m fatter than a dad gum sea lion.” She grabbed her inner arm. “Look at this flab! This right here could keep an Eskimo alive for a year. I’m on the wagon. I gotta be. Doc Wilson’s gonna shoot me if I gain another pound.”
Dave put his arm around her. “I have never seen a sea lion wear a John Deere apron. And I’ve been to SeaWorld a lot too.”
“Well, apron or not, I’m done with eatin’. Or done eatin’ the good stuff anyway. I’m announcing it ‘cause I need your help. If you see me eatin’ somethin’ greasy or sweet or good tastin’, just pop me on the hand real good.”
Doug laughed, “You’d pop us back, wouldn’t you?”
She grabbed his arm and grinned. “I just might. But you gotta love me enough to try it anyway. Okay. That’s the end of my rantin’. Anybody else got news?”
Shayla cleared her throat and straightened her tight-fitting skirt as she stood. “I do! I’m trying to convince Dusty and Matthew here to become famous and I need your help. My dad and I think we can get them a reality show about two ex-convicts and their lives in a small rural community. But they’re both hesitant. And I need you folks to help me convince them.”
Uncle Bart yelled out, “Them two is smart to leave well enough alone. Last thing we need is a bunch of camera men ‘round here. Bad enough with all of Ashley’s fame and nonsense.” He turned to face Ashley. “Sorry, Darlin’. You know we all think a lot of ya.”
Ashley nodded and pursed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Shayla continued, “But don’t you think they have a great story?” She put her arm out toward Matthew’s shoulder like one of the pretty girls on Price is Right pointing to a new refrigerator or jet ski. “Don’t you think people would be inspired?”
Matthew stood. “I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go. I told Mrs. Ida I’d mow and trim this afternoon. Dusty, can you give me a ride?”
Before Dusty could respond,
Sarah said, “I’m going right by there. And I need to get home too. I’ve got some lesson plans to work up.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.” He put his hand out toward Doug. “Doug, thanks. Carlie, it was a great meal.” He spoke quieter now. “Shayla, I need a little more time.”
Shayla stood and leaned in close as she patted him on the back. “Just don’t take too long, Matthew. Sometimes opportunity knocks only once.”
Aunt Charlotte ran up to give him a hug. “Come see me soon, Baby. I’ll make some of that chili again.”
Matthew’s face turned red. “I’m not man enough for that chili, Aunt Charlotte.” He turned toward Shayla, “Dusty and I will talk about it and get back to you.”
Chapter 13, SARAH: Rose Bushes Always Have Thorns
“I’m the blue Ford Focus. Right here. The one that really needs to be washed. Oh, and let me move all those school books. Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Looks fine to me.”
Matthew smiled and it made me nervous. He reminded me a lot of Jim Faulkner. Jim was the quarterback of our high school team and all the girls wanted to date Jim and be up close to Jim and get attention from Jim. Me? I never even tried to get his attention. Why waste the effort?
“It gets me where I’m going, I guess.”
“Where are you going exactly?”
“Well, in the morning, at a really godless hour, I’ll be going to Sharon School to work carpool line. If you mean in life, I hope I’m going a direction that helps kids and teaches them their times tables, at least.”
He started laughing as he slid into the front seat. “No. I mean, where are you going right now? Like where do you live?”
“Oh, sorry! Good night! Yes, well, I live just two streets down from you actually. Yeah. Right across from the gas station. Yellow house that needs a paint job. Rows and rows of beautiful rose bushes. That’s me.”
