by Lisa Smartt
Charlotte Nelson yelled at the TV. “Absolutely, Baby! You tell ‘em!”
Bart hollered, “And you was worried about my pickle eatin’! Shhh!”
Mandy: “Any plans to return to Tennessee anytime soon?”
Matthew: “That’s not really possible right now.”
Mandy: “And why is that?”
Matthew: “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Mandy: “Well, why don’t we talk about this picture that showed up on the VIP Social Buzz website yesterday. That’s you and Julie Crawford, isn’t it? So, are you and the boss’s daughter becoming more than just friends now?”
Matthew: “No. Look at the caption, Mandy. That was a business meeting. She’s a shareholder. Nothing more.”
Mandy: “Matthew, I’m confused. This doesn’t look like a business picture to me.” The picture flashed on screen again. Julie in a black dress with her arms around Matthew. “I guess we’ll just have to let our audience decide.”
Matthew: “Why? Why would we let the audience decide if I already told you the answer?”
Mandy: “Do you not follow Julie on Twitter?”
Matthew: “No. I was in prison fourteen years, remember? I’m still trying to learn to socialize in real life.”
Mandy: “Well, Julie tweeted the following words last night at 11:45: ‘Great night with Matthew. Can’t sleep.’ Anything you’d like to say about that, Matthew?”
Matthew: “I’d say she needs some sleeping pills.”
Mandy laughed as she reached out and patted his knee. Her hand lingered longer than necessary. “Oh, Matthew. Playing hard to get will get you everywhere with me.” She turned to the camera. “After fourteen years in prison, Matthew Prescott begins a new life out on the California coast. Can an ex-con handle the pressures of big business? And how’s his social life? The women of America want to know. Stay tuned. After break, we’ll be traveling to Matthew’s penthouse suite to discover who has and who hasn’t been an overnight guest there. Oh, and what’s his most requested room service food?”
The room was completely silent. Even Aunt Charlotte didn’t move a muscle. The funny Pine-Sol woman appeared on screen with a mop bucket. I cleared my throat and stood. “I think I’ll pass on the next segment. I’ve got grading to do. I need to stop by the Dollar General for some art supplies before they close.”
Carlie stood. “Wait! Something’s gone wrong. They said it was gonna be a family show. I think they’re just trying to do one of those bait and switch things. You know, make us think it’s one thing…but it’s not really. It’s all about ratings, getting people to stay for the next segment. They’re probably just gonna talk about how his best friend from high school came by and slept on the couch or something. Really.”
“Oh, I know. I just need to go.” I tried to paste a convincing smile on my face. “Glitter glue waits for no one.”
Aunt Charlotte speared another pickle. “Well, I don’t like that Mandy girl. I don’t like the way she touches him. I don’t like the way she talks about Tennessee either. And I don’t like the way her eyes is shifty. Ain’t they, Bart? She got shifty eyes just like ol’ Barry Ratcliff. Y’see, I always thought Barry’s eyes was real shifty like. Well, one day I open up the paper and there he is. Front page. Ratcliff embezzles money from Electric Co-Op. All I’m sayin’ is they better not let that Mandy girl near the money bag. She’s trouble. Trouble with a capital T.”
Chapter 59, CARLIE: Aunt Charlotte Needs a Shovel
The second episode of “Sweet Southern Freedom” was a little less sweet and a little more like, well, like Miss Lucy’s gut rot moonshine. They hired this Hollywood reporter, Mandy, to cover Matthew and his new life in California. She tried to make us think they were gonna give us some juicy gossip about who had been staying overnight at his hotel apartment. Turns out it was just an old friend from college, a balding guy named Larry, who was in San Diego for an insurance conference.
Oh, and Dusty and Clara didn’t exactly come out smelling like a rose either. They showed footage of Bill Goodman yelling at Dusty over what he called “a shoddy half-ass muffler job.” Of course, they didn’t mention the fact that Bill Goodman has pretty much yelled at everyone about everything since his 18-year-old daughter, Lola, ran off with the Italian trapeze artist who came through with the circus last year.
At one point, the cameramen were at Dusty and Clara’s house watching the kids play on the trampoline. Someone off camera asked, “What does it feel like to be adopted? Do you have any contact with your birthfather? He’s in prison, right?” Clara ran to the trampoline and held up her hands and said, “Enough! Let them play on the trampoline. If this is not exciting enough for TV, then go somewhere else.” Sadly, in the producers’ minds, when Clara’s patience was at the end, well, that’s when it did get exciting enough for TV.
Yeah. I’d say the second episode of “Sweet Southern Freedom” wasn’t exactly a banner day for the folks of Sharon. When the credits rolled, Dusty and Clara quietly collected the kids and went home. Uncle Bart sat at the table and unknowingly ate two pieces of tiramisu. I called it caramel coffee sponge cake and he loved it! Aunt Charlotte poured coffee and said, “Them producers is makin’ us look bad, Carlie. And I don’t take too kindly to that kind of nonsense. Dusty ain’t never done no shoddy mechanic work in his life and Clara ain’t nothin’ but kind either. And Matthew? Matthew’s just a poor soul who ain’t been out in the open long enough to realize he’s fixin’ to get eaten by a lion. I don’t know if it’s the TV folks or that new boss of his that’s gonna get to him first. Did you notice Julie’s dad on camera? He got shifty eyes just like that Mandy girl.”
“And Barry Ratcliff?”
She jumped up from the table. “Right! Julie’s dad’s eyes look just like Barry Ratcliff’s eyes. ‘Cept he’s one of them powerful fellas that has a way of stayin’ out of the paper. He knows people who knows how to make him look like he’s on the up-and-up. But I don’t know, Carlie. I got a bad feeling.”
“I feel bad but not about Julie’s dad.”
“What do you feel bad about?”
“Well, this whole TV show thing was my idea. And I don’t think it’s goin’ so well right now. Sarah’s all torn up about Matthew. Dusty and Clara are worried about the kids. Matthew’s livin’ in California. This is way worse than my usual blunders.”
“Yeah, this ain’t no burnt garlic bread or bad matchmaking. But it ain’t your fault. Somebody needs to get a hold of that little Shayla.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“No, Baby. I meant somebody needs to get A HOLD of her. What is it they say in movies? Shake her down a bit?”
“This isn’t ‘The Godfather,’ Aunt Charlotte.”
“I know. Too bad we don’t got no thugs or big black cars.” She moved closer and whispered, “And look at Bart and Doug over there, Baby. Just look at ‘em. They could never throw nobody into the water.” She shook her head. “And the creek’s only about a foot deep this time of year anyway.”
Uncle Bart stood and walked toward the door. “That was some mighty fine sponge cake, Carlie. But we best be headin’ on to the house. Charlotte, you ready?”
“I am, Darlin’.” She hugged me and whispered, “Call if you think of something we can do to help.”
“Would it involve a shovel?”
She grinned, winked, and headed out the door. “Bye all!”
“Bye!”
After James went to bed, Doug and I poured two cups of decaf coffee. He stood at the counter and looked out the kitchen window like he was plotting something.
“You’re not thinking of throwing someone in the creek are you?”
“Huh? No. Just wondering why I haven’t heard back from Matthew.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
He turned and leaned back on the counter. “Is it just me or was that pretty bad tonight?”
“The show? Yeah, it was pretty bad.”
“I have a feeling Dusty is talking to the
producers right now. He thought they had agreed not to show some of that. The deal with Bill Goodman is one thing. It’s obvious he’s just a troublemaker. But the scene with Clara and the kids? That was pretty brutal.”
“I know. Did you see Will’s face?”
“I did. Dusty said he’s been having a hard time in seventh grade anyway. Some bullying from the bigger kids. Dusty considered not doing the show at all, thinking it might be bad timing for the family. But he talked to all of them and Will insisted. Said it would be cool to be on TV. Not sure how cool it seems now though.”
“Yeah. What did you think about Matthew’s part?”
“He looked good. In control. She tried to break him, but he didn’t budge.”
“I guess. So, he’s there now, huh? For good?”
He put his arms around me. “I’m afraid so. From what he said tonight, didn’t it sound like he was settling in?”
“Yeah. I guess I just wanted to believe…”
“I love you, Carlie.” He kissed me on the cheek. “And it’s always good to believe.”
Chapter 60, CARLIE: The Moment Life Changed
At 11:15, the phone woke us both out of a deep sleep. Doug jumped and turned on the lamp. “Hello. Yeah.”
I couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the line. But Doug’s eyes were squinting and the color in his face was fading. Anytime the phone rang after 10:00 pm it always reminded us of the night Shannon died. In a matter of seconds, he said, “I’m on my way,” and he hung up the phone.
I sat up in bed, still half asleep. “What happened?”
He grabbed his pants off the desk chair and fumbled for his billfold. “It’s Will. He’s at the hospital. Stay with James. I’ll let you know when I know something.”
“Will? What happened? Do I need to go get the kids?”
“He took a bunch of pills. Aunt Charlotte’s with the kids. That’s all I know.” In less than two minutes, Doug was in the truck and heading to Volunteer Hospital. I was praying a simple prayer. “God, please don’t let him die.”
Every minute after that phone call seemed like an hour. I couldn’t imagine what Dusty and Clara were going through. Their beautiful little boy. The boy we all loved. The boy they both treasured. “God, please give him another chance.”
At midnight, I called Sarah.
“Uh, hello.”
“Sarah, I’m so sorry. It’s an emergency and I, well, I needed to talk to somebody.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Doug left 45 minutes ago. Will took a bunch of pills. He’s in the hospital and I don’t know anything more than that.”
“No. Look, you need to be with Clara right now. I’m coming to your house to stay with James.”
“Thank you, Sarah. Thank you.”
“On my way. Bye.”
Forty minutes later I walked into Volunteer Community Hospital. “I’m looking for the family of Will McConnell.”
“Down this hallway on your right.”
My feet felt heavier with every step. As I got closer, I could hear conversation. When I walked in the door, Dusty and Clara were huddled on the couch. Both in pajama pants and t-shirts. Doug was on his cell phone in the corner. Brother Dan, dressed in old jeans and a dingy white t-shirt, was sitting across from Dusty and Clara.
Clara ran and threw her arms around me. She pulled away as she wiped her face with a paper towel. “Thank you for coming.”
“How is he?”
“Alive.”
Brother Dan stood. “The news we’re getting is pretty positive. They pumped his stomach and Dusty and Clara have been back there. They need to run a few tests and then they’re going to admit him into a room.” He spoke more quietly, “But under the circumstances, he’ll probably have to, you know, he’ll need to be under observation for a while.”
I put my arm around Clara. “How’s the mama?”
“I’ve been better.”
“But they think he’s going to be fine? Fully recover?”
“Yes. Thank God.” Her voice started cracking. “It’s a miracle, you know. Dusty always goes to bed early. But he was up late for some reason. And before he went to bed, he walked into Will’s room. And he just, well, he never does that. And Will was lying on the floor.” She began crying again and I reached out and wrapped my arms around her thin frame.
“And he’s alive.”
“Yes. The doctor said if we hadn’t found him till morning, well…”
“The results could have been different.”
“Oh God, Carlie, what would we have done? He’s our boy. Our…”
“It’s my fault, you know.”
“What? No.”
“That dumb TV show. I never thought about the embarrassment it could be for a seventh grader. And I definitely didn’t think they’d make a deal about his birthfather being in prison or anything like that. It was all below the belt.”
“Agreed. But right now? I’m just thankful he’s alive.”
“Me too. Me too.”
Doug approached us. “Aunt Charlotte said she plans on staying with the kids for a few days. So you two can come and go as you need to.”
Clara spoke with relief. “Thank God for that woman. But Doug, shoot straight. What did she really say?”
He grinned. “She said, ‘I’m gonna make that Will a BIG batch of chocolate chip cookies ‘cause that will heal every doubt or fear he ever had in his whole life.’”
Chapter 61, SARAH: You’ve Got a Friend…Lots of Friends.
I fell asleep on Doug and Carlie’s couch and woke up at 6:00 to the sound of Carlie making coffee. Carlie is a morning person. Times a hundred. No. Times a thousand.
“Mornin’, Sunshine!”
“You just called me by the name of Charlotte Nelson’s deceased calf.”
She laughed. “Oh, sorry!”
“You must have good news.”
“I do. Will is alive and well. But he’ll be staying in the hospital a day or two for observation.”
“So, was it…”
“A suicide attempt? Yes. And we’re all gonna be real honest about that too. Talk about a powerful moment. Dusty was crying and wiping tears. He reached down and kissed Will on the cheek and said, ‘You’ll always be my #1 son and we’ll get through this. We will. Together.’ But none of us are naïve to what needs to happen. Lots of testing. Counseling. Brother Dan knows someone who specializes in crisis counseling for adolescents. We’ll work together. They’re taking it very seriously.”
“I wanna go by and see him after school. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. He can have visitors. And depending on when you can go, we might use it as a time for Dusty and Clara to take a break and go home for a while.”
“Great. Tell them I’ll be there around 4:00.”
“I will.”
By 3:50, the school parking lot was empty. As I got into my car, I asked God to help me love Will. I did love him. But I needed a special way to show him that love. I got the cardboard treasure box out of the backseat and decided on Tootsie Rolls and Pokemon cards. Sometimes it pays to be a teacher.
I knocked gently on the hospital room door. “It’s me. Sarah.”
Will’s voice sounded pleasant. “Come in.”
“Hey, Buddy. I brought you something.”
He opened the brown paper lunch sack. “Wow! Thanks, Ms. Sarah.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dusty and Clara both hugged me and thanked me for coming.
“Will, what if we send your folks home to take a shower?” I winked. “No offense. But they smell pretty bad.”
Will popped a Tootsie Roll in his mouth. “Yeah. They look bad too.”
“Now, now. We don’t want them to get a complex or anything. Dusty, Clara, I think Will and I can handle the hospital room TV for at least a few hours.”
Clara gathered her things and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t let Sarah convince you to do math problems. You know how teachers are. Sneaky.”
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br /> Dusty laughed and rubbed Will’s head. “Yeah. Sarah is a whiz bang at math tutoring. I have a feeling those Tootsie Rolls were just a form of bribery.”
“Don’t listen to them, Will. I promise an afternoon free of math. And I bet there’ll even be Jell-O too.”
Dusty and Clara left and we settled into some afternoon movie watching and light conversation. I’m not a counselor and I felt no compulsion to fake it. Will needed a friend. And that I could do. About an hour into the movie, he fell sound asleep. I stood up and walked to his bed. His big brown curls lay perfectly still on the pillow. Handsome. Ridiculously handsome. The nurse came in and checked his vitals. Her exact words? “I’m glad he’s sleeping. He’s been through quite an ordeal.”
My mind went to a hundred places. Why did Will do it? He seemed so happy. Great parents. Smart kid. Standing by his bed in a cold hospital room reminded me again of a simple truth. Life is messy. I prayed, “God, help him see how loved he is. Help him realize his purpose.”
The knock on the door startled me. I moved toward the closed door and said quietly, “Come in. He’s sleeping.” I turned back toward the bed to make sure he hadn’t been disturbed. He was still sleeping soundly. I expected to hear a nurse or aide behind me, checking his IV or setting down a tray of promised Jell-O.
“Sarah?”
I turned quickly and almost knocked the Styrofoam pitcher from the food tray. At first, I thought it was all a dream. That maybe Will wasn’t the only one who had been sleeping. But he spoke again. “Sarah? Are you okay?”
All I could do was stare. Surreal. I’d just seen him on TV last night. Dressed in an expensive suit. Ocean water in the background. Now he was standing in Will’s hospital room wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Cowboy boots. Looking like he used to look when he lived in a small town, when he worked at a mechanic shop, when he rode home from church with me in a dirty Ford Focus. He nervously rubbed his lips together and stared at the hospital bed. All I could think about were the times I’d kissed him. The times we sat together on the porch. The times I dreamed he was falling in love with me. The words written in ink on paper hidden in a drawer.
“Matthew? Gosh, I’m sorry. I’m just shocked.” I slowly walked toward him. He put his arms around me exactly the way he did before he left. His hands touched the back of my hair. He smelled divine. “How did you get here? I mean, how did you know?”
