“Is anything wrong?” I asked. “You haven’t seen anything terrible in my future, have you?”
“Absolutely not,” she said with a shake of her beautifully shaped head. “Your future is very bright. This has to do with your past.”
She handed me a photograph, and I startled when I saw Darlene’s face smiling up at me.
“Look what’s written on the back,” Matilda said.
“‘To Bradley with all my love, Darlene Givens,’” I read. “Who is Bradley?”
“Bradley is my husband Frank’s brother. He died several months ago from a massive coronary. We were going through his things and we found this. I saw the photograph and I knew Darlene Givens was your mother’s name, or rather the woman who you believed was your mother all these years.”
Matilda knew all about the baby-switching. I’d told her the entire story shortly after I’d found out about it.
“So Bradley is the ‘B’ of Darlene’s diary. The mystery is finally solved,” I said, softly.
“He kept her photograph all these years along with a stack of love letters. They were the only things in his safety deposit box.”
I ran my finger along the edges of the photograph. “What was Bradley like?”
“He was Frank’s older brother. He was groomed to take over the family’s insurance business, which he ended up running for years. He never married. Most people considered him a workaholic.”
I leaned against the brick of the building. “He broke Darlene’s heart.”
“I know,” Matilda said with a nod. “Knowing his family as I do, I’m sure they forced him to choose between the business and Darlene, and I guess he chose the business. Money is a powerful incentive. Still, the way he kept the memory of her all these years makes me wonder if he questioned his decision. I think he really loved her.”
I handed back the photograph. “You know what this means, don’t you? Frank has a niece somewhere out there.”
“I know,” Matilda said. “Maybe we’ll try and find her one day. Why don’t you keep the photograph? I’ll also get the letters to you.”
“Thanks,” I said, tucking the photo into my purse. “I’d like to read them. Even though Darlene isn’t my mama, I still tend to think of her that way.”
At eight p.m., our official closing time, everyone was a little worse for wear. Mavis had nibbled off her lipstick and there was a long run in her stockings. Attalee had a splash of cherry phosphate on the front of her white jacket and one of her eyebrows had worn off. I sat on a chair with a heart-shaped back by the soda fountain with my shoe off. I massaged my left foot while Timothy kneaded my shoulders.
“You need to wander over this way, child,” Attalee said to Timothy. “I’ve got me a crick in my neck that needs working out.”
Timothy obliged, and Attalee sighed contentedly as he worked his fingers around her neck. “This is one handsome hubby you have, Elizabeth. He reminds me of a young Tony Curtis.” After a few minutes of Timothy’s ministering, Attalee snored in her chair.
It was decided that Timothy would see her home. Mavis and I assisted him as we guided a sleepy Attalee out to the car. Timothy kissed my cheek and said, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”
Mavis and I plodded back into the store. Mavis cut off the outside light.
“I’m like Attalee. I’m too pooped to pop,” Mavis said with a yawn. “But I also can’t recall when I’ve had a more magical day. Thank you so much, Elizabeth. I’m sure going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss y’all too,” I said. “But we’ll still see each other. We just won’t be working together every day.”
“That reminds me,” Mavis said. “Attalee and me got you a little going-away gift.”
She disappeared into the stockroom and came back carrying a black leather briefcase that looked just like the one Timothy used to carry. She handed it to me, and when I opened it up I saw a brass square monogrammed with my name: Elizabeth Hollingsworth, Esquire.”
“What’s the ‘esquire’ for?” I asked.
“Oh, that was Attalee’s idea,” said Mavis. “She thought it would make you sound really important.”
“This is just what I needed, Mavis,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
Mavis smiled and ran a finger along the ornate columns in the Bottom Dollar Emporium. “This started out as a grand place. It was never meant to be just an ordinary dollar store. I feel like this building has come into its own again.” She paused and looked at me. “Not unlike some people I know.”
“Oh now, Mavis. I’ve enjoyed every minute that I’ve worked for the Bottom Dollar Store.”
“I know that, Elizabeth, but it’s clear that you were meant for bigger things than ringing up candy at a cash register.” She slowly shook her head. “I’ve always suspected that. When you walked in here ten years ago, I thought to myself ‘someday that girl will go places.’” Her soft gray eyes filled with tears. “I just didn’t know it was going to hurt so much when you did.”
I threw my arms around Mavis and we hugged until I saw the headlights from Timothy’s car shine through the plate glass window.
“I’ll go out there and tell him that I’m going to help you close up,” I said.
She shook her head. “No. I’ll take care of that, Elizabeth. You go on now. Go home with your husband.”
I took one last lingering look at the Bottom Dollar Emporium and then left through the front door. Through the window I saw Mavis ease into a rocking chair. She shucked off her pumps and put her feet up on an empty box. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen such a look of contentment on her face.
Meemaw’s Oatmeal Cookies
Makes enough cookies to fill up a good-sized cookie jar
1 cup shortening (I like Snowdrift, but Crisco or even lard will do.)
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar (If it’s gotten hard on you, instead of banging it against the kitchen counter stick it the microwave for a spell with a dab of butter and it’ll soften on you.)
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ½ cups White Lily all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups quick cook oatmeal
1 cup chopped nuts (I’m partial to pecans, but you can use walnuts.)
2 cups sweetened shredded coconut, raisins, or currants (I tried dried cranberries once, but they got stuck in my teeth.)
Preheat oven to 350° F.
Cream shortening and sugars; add eggs and vanilla. Add flour, baking soda, and salt. Add oatmeal, nuts, and coconut (or whatever you decided on). Drop teaspoons of batter on a cookie sheet. Bake for 10 minutes.
About the Author
Karin Gillespie is national bestselling author of five novels and a humor columnist for Augusta Magazine. Her nonfiction writing had been in the New York Times, The Writer Magazine and Romantic Times. She maintains a website and blog at Karingillespie.net. Sign up for her newsletter on her website, follow her on Twitter or connect with her on Facebook.
Books by Karin Gillespie
GIRL MEETS CLASS
LOVE LITERARY STYLE
The Bottom Dollar Series
BET YOUR BOTTOM DOLLAR (#1)
A DOLLAR SHORT (#2)
DOLLAR DAZE (#3)
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And finally, before you go...
Here are a few other books
you might enjoy:
GIRL MEETS CLASS
Karin Gillespie
(from the Henery Press Chick Lit Collection)
The unspooling of Toni Lee Wells’ Tiffany and Wild Turkey lifestyle begins with a trip to the Luckett County Jail drunk tank. An earlier wrist injury sidelined her pro tennis career, and now she’s trading her tennis whites for wild nights roaming the streets of Rose Hill, Georgia.
Her wealthy family finally gets fed up with her shenanigans. They cut off her monthly allowance but also make her a sweetheart deal: Get a job, keep it for a year, and you’ll receive an early inheritance. Act the fool or get fired, and you’ll lose it for good.
Toni Lee signs up for a fast-track Teacher Corps program. She hopes for an easy teaching gig, but ends up assigned to Harriet Hall, a high school that churns out more thugs than scholars.
What’s a spoiled Southern belle to do when confronted with a bunch of street smart students who are determined to make her life as difficult as possible? Luckily, Carl, a handsome colleague, is willing to help her negotiate the rough teaching waters and keep her bed warm at night. But when Toni Lee gets involved with some dark dealings in the school system, she fears she might lose her new beau as well as her inheritance.
Read all about it and/or grab the book from Amazon
CLICK FOR GIRL MEETS CLASS
LOVE LITERARY STYLE
Karin Gillespie
(from the Henery Press Chick Lit Collection)
They say opposites attract, and what could be more opposite than a stuffy literary writer falling for a self-published romance writer?
Novelist Aaron Mite meets Laurie Lee at a writers’ colony and mistakenly believes her to be a renowned writer of important fiction. When he discovers she’s a self-published romance author, he’s already fallen in love with her.
Aaron thinks genre fiction is an affront to the fiction-writing craft. He often quotes the essayist, Arthur Krystal who says literary fiction “melts the frozen sea inside of us.” Ironically Aaron doesn’t seem to realize that he’s emotionally frozen. The vivacious Laurie, lover of flamingo-patterned attire and all things hot pink, is the one person who might be capable of melting him.
In the tradition of The Rosie Project, Love Literary Style is a sparkling romantic comedy which pokes fun at the divide between low and high brow fiction.
Read all about it and/or grab the book from Amazon
CLICK FOR LOVE LITERARY STYLE
THE BREAKUP DOCTOR
Phoebe Fox
The Breakup Doctor Series (#1)
(From the Henery Press Chick Lit Collection)
Call Brook Ogden a matchmaker-in-reverse. Let others bring people together; Brook, licensed mental health counselor, picks up the pieces after things come apart. When her own therapy practice collapses, she maintains perfect control: landing on her feet with a weekly advice-to-the-lovelorn column and a successful consulting service as the Breakup Doctor: on call to help you shape up after you breakup.
Then her relationship suddenly crumbles and Brook finds herself engaging in almost every bad-breakup behavior she preaches against. And worse, she starts a rebound relationship with the most inappropriate of men: a dangerously sexy bartender with anger-management issues—who also happens to be a former patient.
As her increasingly out-of-control behavior lands her at rock-bottom, Brook realizes you can’t always handle a messy breakup neatly—and that sometimes you can’t pull yourself together until you let yourself fall apart.
Read all about it and/or grab the book from Amazon
CLICK FOR THE BREAKUP DOCTOR
Bet Your Bottom Dollar (The Bottom Dollar Series Book 1) Page 24
