by Lisa Fowler
Daddy smiles and I stand there in front of him realizing what a mighty big man he really is. And I understand too, how wrong I’ve been about him. But there’s one thing I’ve not been wrong about and I reckon now’s as good a time as any to set the record straight.
“Daddy,” I say, my shoulders squared and a deep swallow in my throat. I look him right in the eyes so’s he knows I mean what I’m fixing to tell him. “I don’t want to lie no more.”
Daddy nods.
“I mean it. I don’t want to lie about the elixir, or about having a sick grandmaw, or none of that. I don’t want to cheat honest, God-fearing folks out of their money, and I want to tell the truth from now on, even if we don’t do so good with the elixir.”
Daddy hangs his head and stares at the ground for the longest time. Any other time I’d have the fear in me too, afraid of the tongue-lashing he’s ready to cut loose on me, but not now.
Not anymore.
Leastwise, not about this.
“Lying’s wrong, Chestnut,” Daddy says, looking me in the eyes and smiling sadly. “And I should never have asked you to lie, no matter if it’s just stretching the truth, or a little white lie, or a big old red-hot one, it makes no difference. Lying is lying and it’s wrong. Always. No matter the reason. I was wrong to ask you—to teach you—that it was all right. I’m sorry.” He stops and watches me. “Will you forgive me?”
I nod.
“Tell you what,” Daddy says, standing, “like I said before, I did some thinking of my own while I was locked behind those bars. What would you say if I told you I think you and the triplets and Abraham and me should stop selling the elixir altogether?”
“You mean it? But how will we get by? I mean, how will we make a living?”
“Well, I don’t think Abraham would mind going back to New Orleans,” Daddy said. “He’s bound to still have lots of contacts there.” Daddy raises his eyebrows and a big old smile come across his face. He wipes his eyes with his handkerchief, then tucks it into his back pocket. He put his hands on my shoulders again.
“I was thinking maybe we could buy us a little house, one that sits right out next to the ocean, where a young girl can stick her toes in the sand, feel the waves slap against her legs, and sketch and paint just as long as she sees fit.”
I gasp. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I thought he didn’t know nothing about my dreams. It’s almost as if Daddy’s been reading my mind all along, and that’s worth way more than money.
“I could get a job, and the triplets could sing with Abraham on the weekends, when school’s out. What would you think about that?”
Right then and there, in front of the sheriff’s office and county jail in Dallas, Texas, I realize the truth. What I’ve wanted all along is a loving family. Oh, it don’t matter if it’s not a mama and a daddy, but a real family, where a girl can dream—daydreams and night dreams—all she wants, and a home where she knows she’s important and loved.
And it seems to me, that’s exactly what I’ve got.
Matter of fact, reckon it’s been here all along. I was just too stubborn to see it.
“Say, Chestnut,” Daddy says, smiling down at me with the warmest, kindest, biggest chocolate-colored eyes I ever did see. “What say we go get the triplets and Abraham and Old Stump and have ourselves an elixir busting party?”
And I say, “You know what, Daddy? I reckon you know best.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This author wishes to thank:
My agent, Sally Apokedak, for believing and encouraging from the beginning, and for the hours invested teaching such a “greenhorn.”
My editor, Adrienne Szpyrka, for loving Chestnut and the gang as much as this writer.
My writing buddy, Kirsten McDonald, who tirelessly reads, rereads, and then rereads again. Thank you for not killing off any of these characters.
And finally, my critique group, The Story Weavers of Asheville, for comments and suggestions that helped improve this story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A lover of mountain cultures and lingo, Lisa Fowler has lived her entire life in the shadow of the Great Smoky Mountains in the quirky, sometimes downright peculiar city of Asheville, North Carolina. And life with three wacky dogs and one exceptionally talented and beautiful daughter is a constant reminder that things are not always as they seem.
