by Lisa Smartt
“I’m sorry I’m calling so late. Am I disturbing you?”
“No. It’s earlier out here, remember? No. You’re fine.”
“How was your visit?”
“With Dave and Ashley?” Silence. “Hey, I’m just jokin’. I know. You’re calling to find out about Matthew. Yeah, it was good. He’s doing well or seems to be anyway. He has a really good job. The expensive suit, fancy office, whole nine yards.”
“Good. That’s good. I’m glad he’s adjusting. And what about your gift idea? Did that go over well?”
“It did. Yeah. He loved it.”
“Good. That’s good. Well, I’ll let you go and I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Sarah?”
“Yes.”
“Is there something else you called to talk about?”
Her voice cracked, “I don’t know what to say really.”
“Why don’t you just admit that you love him? You do. You love Matthew Prescott, right? Whew! Feels great to just get that out there in the open, doesn’t it? Wait a minute. Did I put words in your mouth? ‘Cause I do that with people. Horrible habit, it is. Anyway, this is your chance. I’ll be quiet. Do you love him, Sarah? Because if you do, it’s okay. It’s not a crime to love someone.”
There was a short pause. “Yes. And every morning, I pray, ‘God, help me forget about him. Help me move on.’”
“And every evening you lie in bed, thinking about him.”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“Been there. Done that. Got the tear-stained pillow cases to prove it.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?”
“I guess you should just head to Miss Lucy’s for some gut rot moonshine.” Silence. “Hey, it’s a joke. No. Do not go to Miss Lucy’s, Sarah. Your liver will never forgive you. Here’s what I would say. Give it a little more time. I know. That’s never the answer anyone wants. AUGH! I always hate that answer. But Matthew is in transition. Oh, and I know your next question.”
“What’s my next question?”
“Does he love you too?”
“Well?”
“He does.”
“He actually told you that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
“Thank you, Carlie. For being a friend. For trying to help us. Both of us.”
“Hey, I’m just a proponent of love, sister. I’m all about peace, love, and matchmaking. Oh, and cheesecake. Peace, love, and cheesecake. That should be the name of a restaurant.”
“Yeah! You’re a genius.”
“We’ll be home tomorrow evening. Try to get some rest, Sarah. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Doug walked out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. “Who was on the phone?”
“Sarah. She just needed a little help from the love doctor.”
He smiled. “And what if I told you I needed a little help from the love doctor?”
I threw the book on the floor. “I’d say, ‘The doctor is in.’”
Chapter 56, CARLIE: Shoot a Monkey
Okay. So here’s what we found when we got home from California. James got in trouble at school on Tuesday because in the middle of working on his math lesson, he yelled out, “Shoot a monkey in the head!” Mary Grace Anderson started crying and telling the whole class how much she loves monkeys and always has loved monkeys. And always would love monkeys. I’m starting to believe James needs to go to an all-boys school.
Several people have looked at Chester and Ida’s house but nobody has put in an offer yet. Cora Belle has made it her full-time job to watch the proceedings and daily inform the rest of us: “Larry Crane looked in the windows yesterday. Not sure why. Ever since Mildred left him, he ain’t got a penny to his name. Missy Johnson and her fiancé from Arkansas came by with Judy on Tuesday. But Missy’s daddy spoiled her somethin’ awful and she ain’t gonna put up with anything less than brand-new. A man from Jackson was interested in it. Rental property. Can’t imagine what Chester and Ida would think about that.”
The truth? Chester and Ida aren’t thinking about that house at all anymore. But I can’t exactly explain that truth to someone who halfway believes her grandma came back to earth as a stray calico cat, to watch over her and her sister.
I saw Sarah at the Dollar General yesterday afternoon and she looked a lot better than the last time I saw her. She had on make-up. Her hair was fixed nice. Looked like she’d dropped some weight, which just goes to show everybody grieves differently. I always wanted to be a person who grieves by saying, “No. I can’t fathom eating right now.” Or “No. I’m too upset to eat. Just bring me a glass of water.” I tend to grieve by saying. “Hand me a fork. No. Don’t bother. I’ll eat with my hands.”
Today, while waiting in carpool line, hoping and praying James had not verbally assaulted any wild animal species, the cell phone rang.
“Clara? Good to hear from you, friend.”
“I need to talk to you, Carlie. Are you free right now?”
“It just so happens I have a good ten minutes before James comes barreling out of Sharon Elementary School with details of who ate school glue and who splashed water in the bathroom. That boy should be a security guard. He doesn’t miss a detail.”
“I’m having a hard time. With the TV folks. They’re starting to get a little too…”
“Intrusive?”
“Yes. That’s the word. Yesterday the guys started asking questions about the kids’ adoptions and how did that feel, parenting adopted kids and a biological kid in the same house?”
“Well, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to answer, Clara. You just say, ‘It feels great. We love all four of them and that’s all I care to say about it.’”
“See? I need to be more like you.”
“Wait a second. Someone hand me a tissue. I just want to bask in this glorious moment. Clara, I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could be more like you and your kind. Quieter. More reserved. I’ve always wanted to have a thought that didn’t come flying out of my mouth a millisecond later. So, trust me. You don’t want to be like me. You need to be you. You’re the one Dusty loves. You’re the mother of these four great kids. So, if the TV folks cross the line, call ‘em out on it. Don’t let this show ruin your family, Clara. Take control.”
“Thank you, Carlie. I love you.”
“I know. Evidently, I’m pretty loveable, despite the big mouth.”
“Maybe because of it.”
“Can I record this conversation for training purposes? Seriously. I may need to listen to it several times a day. No, really. I love you too, Clara. I always have and I always will. I gotta run. Aunt Charlotte’s monkey-killing protégé is running for the car. Bye, friend.”
“Bye.”
Chapter 57, SARAH: Bury the Hatchet…and Leave it Buried
I told no one about the notes I’d seen at Matthew’s house. How could I? It was a violation of so many things. But deep down, I was thankful I saw those words. Words I recalled again and again.
On days I worked afternoon carpool line, I was especially tired and unmotivated to cook. I unlocked the front door, kicked off my shoes, and flung my tote bag down near a green plant from Chester and Ida’s funeral. It had been sent to the funeral home by the Fire Department. On the night of visitation, Matthew told me I should be the one to take it home after the funeral. His exact words? “I’m not a violent man, Sarah. But I am a plant killer.” We laughed. Within 24 hours, he was being taken out of the funeral home in handcuffs.
I perused the freezer, looking for a frozen dinner that was full of carbs and fat and sugar. But evidently, I was being mature and sensible on my last trip to the grocery store. So I picked up the phone to order a pizza. The knock at the door startled me. Every time I heard that sound, my heart beat faster. Hoping. Praying. Wondering if someday he’d be on the other side of the door. Sadly, that day was not today.
I peeked through the lace curtains.
No.
“Sarah? Sarah, I only want to talk to you. Just a few minutes. We can stay on the porch. Please. Just give me a few minutes.”
Jerry’s face still looked bad. Not as bad as it did at the funeral home that day. But, yes. There was scarring and still a bit of swelling on his cheek. He had on dark blue jeans and a John Deere t-shirt. He was pacing back and forth. His hair was combed neatly as he finally decided to give up the crew cut. And that was good. He looked much better with a little hair. I always thought he was such a good guy. Everyone did. That’s why I felt so bad turning down his marriage proposal last year. Now I just thanked God for the courage. And prayed for wisdom.
“Sarah? Look, I’m not gonna touch you.” He put his hands in the air. “I’m not. Everyone will be able to see us out here. Please, just open the door.”
I hesitated but then slowly turned the door knob and walked onto the front porch. “You have five minutes.”
Jerry sat in the rocking chair. I sat in the swing, as far away as I could get. He lowered his head and then looked straight at me. “I’m an idiot.”
“You won’t get any disagreement from me.”
He shook his head and smiled. “I expected that. I came by to apologize.”
“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”
“Yes. You are. What I said about you being desperate? Well, it was…”
“Your own desperation.”
“Right. Yeah, it was on me. It’s all on me, Sarah.”
“For the record, I’m sorry you were hurt so badly. We were worried.”
“Thank you.” He leaned back in the chair and put both hands behind his head. “Yeah, I could have taken ‘em. For sure. I mean, he’s not that big of a guy or that strong really. It’s just that, well, he caught me off guard is all.”
I dropped my head and whispered, “Some things never change.”
“What?”
“Forget it, Jerry. So, that’s it, huh? You came by to apologize for ruining my life. Well, you’re forgiven. You completely ruined my life and you got beat up badly in the process. Looks like we’re even. Everybody loses.” I stood and walked toward the door.
“No, Sarah. Wait. Don’t go back in.”
“Jerry, so help me. If you say one more word, I’m gonna be tempted to deck you too. And there’s not an officer within 100 miles who’ll arrest me either. You know that.”
“Look. I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving town.”
I stopped. “What?”
“I’m leaving. I’m going to work for my uncle in Nashville. He owns a few grocery stores and he’s offered me a job. So, I’m moving. Tomorrow.”
“Moving? What about your mother?”
“She’s going too.” He laughed. “Said I’d never make it without her homemade mac n’ cheese. So, yeah. She’s going too. We’re gonna rent out the house here. We’ll live with my uncle at first and then find a place. Start over.”
“Wow. I mean, I hope that works out well for you, Jerry. For both of you.”
“Yeah. It’ll be a good chance. A new beginning.”
I reached for the door but then turned to make eye contact. “I believe in those, y’know? New beginnings. Jerry, I wish you the best. Really.”
He grabbed my arm. My facial expression must have scared him because he let go and put both hands in the air. “Hey! Sorry! My bad! I said I wouldn’t touch you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say one more thing. Before I go.”
“Yes.”
“I’m done with the, you know, with the legal business of it all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not gonna pursue any charges against him, even if he does come back here.”
I felt a lump in my throat. “Why?”
“Several people told me I was being an ass. That most men in the room would have done…well, what Matthew did. And I guess they’re right. I was just so caught up in the…”
“Jealousy?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, I think that’s a good thing, Jerry. The mark of a real man is the ability to let things go. Bury the hatchet. Start over.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Sarah.” He stepped off the porch. I waved and he waved back. “I’ll never forget ya, Sarah Simpson.”
I didn’t know what to say so I chose silence. When I got inside, the tears started falling. I leaned against the door and shouted to an empty house, “Yes!”
I couldn’t believe it. It was all falling into place. The house hadn’t sold yet. Jerry was leaving town. Carlie assured me Matthew loved me. I didn’t even want pizza anymore.
Chapter 58, SARAH: Sweet Southern Freedom Turns Sour
I felt comfortable watching episode #2 of “Sweet Southern Freedom” at Doug and Carlie’s house with the gang. Doug assured me he’d made every effort to let Matthew know about what Jerry said. He’d left phone messages at work and on his personal phone. He sent an e-mail. No response yet, but it had only been 24 hours. Doug said he was probably just real busy with work or something.
Aunt Charlotte handed out pickles that had been speared with plastic knives. “Here, everyone needs a pickle before the music starts! Bart, don’t be loud with your eatin’ though. We all wanna hear every word of the show.”
“How do ya eat a pickle without bein’ loud, Charlotte? It ain’t even possible!”
“Shh. Here it comes. The music is about to start.”
Narrator: “Tonight we begin in San Diego, California, with an up-close and personal interview with Matthew Prescott. After fourteen years in prison, Matthew was hired by friend and former inmate, Dusty McConnell, to work as a mechanic in Dusty’s Shop in Bradford, Tennessee. But something happened that completely changed the future for Matthew. Was it a good change or a bad one? We’ll let the viewer decide.”
Dramatic music played and the scene cut to Matthew sitting in a director’s chair across from interviewer, Mandy Vincent. The chairs sat on a pier overlooking the water. Sunny day. Matthew dressed in a tan suit. Mandy dressed in a short skirt and business jacket. Matthew smiled and adjusted his tie. I knew women all over the country were talking about how handsome he was. But there were so many things they didn’t know. The gentle way he had cared for Chester and Ida. His thankfulness for the tiny room with the iron bed. The loving words he’d written on faded paper. Now he was on TV looking like a movie star or a business mogul. Nothing like the Matthew we all knew. And one of us loved.
Mandy: “Well, how quickly life can change, Matthew. Last week, I was interviewing you outside a mechanic shop and this week, well, this week, we’re in sunny San Diego. Can you share with our viewers why you made such a drastic change?”
Matthew: “I won’t go into the details, but let’s just say I needed a change of scenery. I got a job with McLaughlin Industries here. Been on the job two days now and there’s a pretty big learning curve. But I’m getting there. Yeah.”
Mandy: “Let’s go ahead and run the footage of what recently happened outside a Tennessee funeral home. The incident that caused Matthew to make the move and start over in California.”
The footage clearly showed Matthew being brought out in handcuffs. Jerry coming out on a stretcher. They asked people on the sidewalk what had taken place. A few locals said inarticulate things like, “He nearly killed half the people in that funeral home. Maude and I was scared. We was all scared.” “We weren’t sure about an ex-con coming here to live. But now we’re sure. Sure we want him to leave.”
Aunt Charlotte yelled, “Stop! Wait a minute! Doug, stop the TV for a minute. What the heck just happened and when did we let Jim and Maude Billings speak for the town of Sharon? Them two ain’t got no sense. Nearly burned down the community center last year tryin’ to have a weanie roast for their grandson’s first birthday party. A weanie roast INSIDE the community center! Right there near the stage too. Good night. Plum embarrassing.”
Doug just shook his head and said, “Pretty crazy. Okay. Let’s watch the rest.” He pushed play.
Matthew: “I think the same thing I thought one second after I beat that guy up. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. He said some offensive things about a friend of mine. And about me. But I shouldn’t have done what I did. I regret it. And I sent an open letter to the newspaper, apologizing to him and to the community. I let anger get the best of me, but I’m getting help with that. And I’m not sure those people on camera speak for everyone in Sharon.”
Mandy: “What kind of help?”
Matthew: “I’m meeting with a counselor here. He specializes in helping people who were in prison deal with anger problems. And I’m meeting every week with my pastor. We’re talking about forgiveness, mercy, things like that.”
Mandy: “I think it’s public knowledge that the fight revolved around the affections of a woman there in Tennessee. Care to elaborate?”
Matthew: “No.”
Mandy: “So, is the relationship with her on or off?”
Matthew: “You asked if I wanted to elaborate.” He smiled and looked straight at her. “Was I unclear?”
Mandy: “You can’t fault me for trying. This is what people are interested in, Matthew. I’m sure you know you’ve become a bit of an overnight celebrity. Facebook fan page with over 100,000 likes. Every female focus group we’ve talked to has had the same reaction. They’re crazy about you. After spending the last 14 years of your life in prison, how does it feel to now have so many women in America interested in meeting you, dating you, or…”
Matthew: “They’re not interested in me. They don’t know me. If they got to know me, they’d probably find me way less exciting than what they’ve dreamed up.”
Mandy: “Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re pretty charming.”
Matthew looked down and shook his head.
Mandy: “Well, one thing’s certain. You can’t beat this scenery. I mean, look around. West Tennessee is quaint but it’s pretty land-locked.”
Matthew: “I guess.” He looked out over the water and his smile faded. “But West Tennessee is farm country. They actually feed people. That’s probably a little more important than just scenery, Mandy.”
