Small Town Famous (The Small Town Trilogy Book 1)

by Alison Ryan

“Mom,” I say again walking towards him, blocking her way from going down the steps, “This is Ryan. He’s friends with grandma. He cuts her grass for free and he’s been here for a while and he needs to go now.”

  Mom looks at me as if she is seeing me for the first time. It’s a strange sensation. I have seen her look at her competing co-workers with this same look. She is staring me down as if I am blocking her from something she wants.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize you knew him,” she finally says, stepping back, “Nice to meet you Ryan. Any friend of my momma’s is a friend of mine. And my daughter’s apparently. She seems a little territorial over you.”

  I want to kill her. It takes everything in me not to lunge at her.

  “Oh,” Ryan must want to be anywhere else right now, “Well, we’re new friends. You’ve got a great mom and a great daughter from what I can tell. So. Nice to meet you too.”

  Oh God this is all so awful. This is not how I wanted this day to go. My mother ruins everything.

  Thankfully she turns to walk back inside but not without doing her stupid sashay where she wiggles her ass while she walks. God, she is pathetic.

  I stare at the closed screen door. I can’t even stand to turn around and face him. I am hoping to hear his truck pull away and to probably never hear from him again.

  I almost jump out of my skin when I feel his hands on my shoulder.

  “Addie,” he says and I look at him, tears stinging my eyes.

  “I am really sorry. My mother she’s-”

  “Embarrassing?” he finishes which makes it even worse.

  I nod and begin to cry. I slump down onto the freshly cut grass and he sits down next to me.

  “Sorry. I really get it,” he says looking over at the live oaks in our side yard, “My dad is the most embarrassing parent in the world. He’s been kicked out of at least a dozen of my basketball games. When I was a kid he tried to be my T-ball coach but he was fired by the other parents for being too intense.”

  I look at him, surprised by such a confession.

  “My mother,” I explain, “has to have attention at all times. She has to feel like she is the prettiest woman in the room, the most desired, the most attended to. When we lived in Texas she got caught making out with the principal at a PTA sponsored canned food drive. None of the other kids were allowed to invite me over to play. She would wear obscenely short skirts to any of my school functions so I would try my best to not tell her about them. You don’t know how many times I have pretended to be sick in order to avoid being seen with her. She thinks I suffer from chronic migraines. I don’t.”

  He smiles and nods, “Yeah. I’ve definitely been there. I told my dad I would quit playing if he came to any more of my games. He just makes a complete ass of himself. He yells at the coaches, cusses at the refs, cusses at me. He sucks the joy and fun out of everyone around him.”

  We both sit quietly with our realizations and admissions.

  “My grandma,” I say folding my legs to my chest, “says your mom is just the best. She really speaks so highly of her. You’re so lucky in that way. I would love a mom that people spoke of so highly.”

  Ryan smiles, “Well, if it’s any consolation, everyone in this town loves the shit out of your grandma. She’s like the patron saint of the Rut. And now she has her angel. For a long time I didn’t even know your name because all she ever talks about is her ‘angel’. It’s pretty adorable.”

  I look at him, “She’s called me that forever. She tells me God sent me to help her heal from the pain of her past. That’s such a Grandma thing to say but I like it. It’s nice to have a safe person who always has your best interest at heart.”

  We sit quietly for a few moments. As I think about how much I don’t want this conversation to end Ryan bursts my bubble.

  “Well, I probably really should go,” he says standing up. He puts his hand out and pulls me up with him. I am momentarily against his (still bare) chest and it makes me dizzy for a second. This is all too much.

  “Thanks for listening to me. Sorry this conversation was so depressing,” I say.

  “Are you kidding? It was great to have a real talk with someone. Guys don’t talk about this stuff. It’s just not what we do. So thank you, Addie McCurtis.” He leans in and embraces me.

  “Also, your lemonade is fantastic. Make some more for this weekend. I’ll be back to cut the backyard,” he says pulling his t-shirt over his head, “Oh! And if you want, you, McKenna, and Rhiannon are invited to join me, Jackson, and Kyle tomorrow. We’re heading to Smith Mountain Lake. Ever been?”

  I shake my head, “Not since I was really young. My granddaddy used to go on fishing trips there.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure Kyle told McKenna about it but in case he forgot, I wanted to let y’all know. We’ll probably leave around ten and be back before dinner. See how your grandma’s doing and just show up at Kyle’s place tomorrow. Sound good?”

  “Sure,” I say as I burst into a billion pieces on the inside, “I’ll see how things are. Thanks for the invite.”

  He gives me one last smile as he jumps in his truck and drives into the hot Virginia afternoon.

  9

  Grandma wakes up soon after Ryan leaves. My mother has locked herself in her room again. I ask Grandma if she’s hungry since she slept through lunch.

  “Maybe a little,” she says, “I wouldn’t mind a tomato sandwich.”

  “Great decision on your part because I wouldn’t mind one myself. Want to sit in the kitchen or the living room?”

  “The living room. I’ve gotta watch One Life to Live. Vicki’s gone crazy again.”

  I laugh, “Okay. So one tomato sandwich? Any chips?”

  “Just the sandwich. Make sure to use Duke’s ok?”

  “Does any other mayonnaise even exist?”

  “Not in my world, it doesn’t. Thank you, angel.”

  Tomato sandwiches are one of my favorite things about Rutledgeville. There isn’t a better grown tomato in all the world. My grandma and I both like the slices cut thick. We put it on white bread with tons of Duke’s mayo. The bread turns pink from the juices and if you’ve made it right, should almost fall apart as you eat it. It’s absolute heaven.

  As we sit on the couch eating our sandwiches my mother makes an appearance from the bedroom. She is wearing a tight tank top and cut off jean shorts with flip flops. The entire vibe of the room changes.

  “What are y’all up to?” she says collapsing into the recliner across from us. She swings her legs over the arms of it like she’s a teenager. Like she’s my age.

  “Eating a late lunch,” Grandma says, “Naomi, your bosoms are falling out of that top.”

  My mother puts her hands to her cleavage, “They are not. This isn’t 1963, Momma. We dress for the weather. It’s almost a hundred degrees outside when you factor in this damn humidity.”

  “Would you be ok with Addie wearing that?” she asks.

  I chew silently.

  “Well, yes. I actually would.” My mother swings her legs to the floor, “And hello to you too, by the way. Such a nice way to greet me.”

  “Naomi,” Grandma says in a voice I rarely hear, “Stop acting like a child. You know good and well we’re aware of last night’s incident. You’ve wrecked your car and put yourself in danger. It’s a horrible example but more than that, it’s risky behavior. We don’t need that right now. There’s enough on our plates.”

  “I see,” my mother stands, “I’m not allowed to actually have one night of relief from any of this. Did you ever think about how this affects me? My mother is dying of cancer. I needed to have a moment. I’m never allowed to have a moment when I’m here!”

  “Did you ever think about what it’s like to be the one with cancer?” my Grandma says.

  There is no answer my mom can give to that.

  McKenna shows up while Grandma watches her stories.

  “Hey, girl!” she calls from the screen door. I open it up and she bounds in.<
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  “Hey. How are you feeling?” I ask as we walk up to my room.

  “Not so bad actually,” she says as we both sit on my bed Indian style, “Rhiannon came back from walking you home and made me drink two huge glasses of water before going back to sleep.”

  “Smart girl,” I roll over onto my stomach, “I like her a lot.”

  “I knew you would. She’s great. She liked you too.”

  “So how did things go with Kyle?” I ask as she lays back on my bed, stretching.

  “Ok. We didn’t really have any time alone. I keep waiting for him to ask me out or to at least ask to see me without anyone else around. It hasn’t happened yet. What did you think of everyone?”

  “They were nice.”

  McKenna sits up and rolls her eyes, “Tell me what you really think.”

  I laugh, “Well, I didn’t dislike anyone. Are Rhiannon and Jackson a thing?”

  McKenna nods, “For sure. I mean, nothing official. But they’re definitely in deep like with one another. Jackson lives in her neighborhood. They just get each other. Rhiannon has been in love with him since third grade when Luke Westbrook called her white trash and Jackson punched him in the stomach.”

  “Nice,” I say, “Kyle seemed like a good guy. He was concerned about us liking his food.”

  “He likes to be the host. He really is a good guy. Rhiannon just thinks all guys except for Jackson are douche nozzles.”

  “Even Ryan?”

  McKenna gives me the side eye and doesn’t say anything.

  “He came by today. To cut the grass,” I continue, “And he’s fantastic, McKenna.”

  “I know. He’s Ryan Kidson.” She says this as if it’s a definition. Something I should just know, like the color of grass.

  “I’m guessing you don’t think I’m good enough. I’m not a model or a pageant queen or whatever the hell his ex-girlfriend is. But I can’t stop thinking about him!” I say all of this and immediately bury my head in my pillow.

  “You really think I think that?” McKenna says, standing. She yanks the pillow from my face, “I would never think that. I don’t subscribe to that. Ryan Kidson is not too good for you. He’s just a guy. But you don’t know Rachel Lawson.” She tosses the pillow back at me and sits back down, “It’s not you that’s the problem. Rachel Lawson is the problem. She’s the reason you can’t like Ryan.”

  “But I thought they were broken up?” I sit up.

  “They are. And they have been before. It’s always brief and it’s always Rachel’s decision. This time is different but the result will be the same. Rachel will come back from her ridiculous modeling camp and get back together with Ryan just in time for school. Ryan is on varsity this year. He’s the king of our class, if not of the school, and Rachel wouldn’t dare be with anyone else. And Ryan can’t resist her ‘charms’” McKenna uses her fingers as quotation marks as she says this, “And ultimately if you decide to like him and he decides to like you back? Your heart will be broken at the end of the summer. Because Rachel Lawson always wins.”

  “You make her sound like a sorceress. Or like Helen of Troy. Is she really that amazing?”

  McKenna shakes her head, “No. Well, for Rutledgeville, yes. She’s the biggest fish in a small pond full of mediocre fish. She’s the prize of the town, in a way. And what’s worse, she knows it. My only hope is that once high school is over she gets smacked with a huge dose of reality when she goes off to some large state school where there are a thousand girls just like her and no one cares who the hell she is.”

  “You really hate her.”

  “She is not my favorite person,” McKenna admits, “She’s a turbo bitch.”

  “Turbo bitch. I like that.”

  “It’s a McKenna Holt original.”

  “So how about if I just flirt shamelessly with Ryan all summer? Keeping in mind that it’s a pointless endeavor? I could even make out with him, just so Rachel Lawson has to be tortured with the idea that what was once hers belonged to someone else for a little while?” I smile, “Nothing makes a girl angrier than knowing she isn’t being pined away for.”

  McKenna laughs, “That actually isn’t a terrible idea. As long as you’re realistic about it. You have to always remind yourself that he isn’t yours to keep. I always feel it’s best to keep expectations low in general. Unfortunately.”

  “No kidding.” It’s something I have lived my life by for a long time.

  “Also, you have so much going on with your grandma. Ryan could be a good distraction. Maybe you’re on to something. It really would kill Rachel to know he actually paid attention to a girl who wasn’t her. I do love that idea.”

  “Great. Now I just have to somehow convince him of it,” I stood up on my bed, “He invited us to the lake tomorrow!”

  McKenna stands up next to me, “Yeah! I was coming over here to tell you Kyle had invited us!”

  We jump up and down excitedly. We are complete dorks.

  10

  That night, as I am washing the dishes, I hear a loud thud from the living room.

  “Addie,” Aunt Shayla says in a voice that scares me, “Call 911 now. Now!”

  Grandma had fallen. The recliner had broken most of her fall, but she still hit her head pretty hard. She was out of it for a few minutes while we waited for the ambulance. I held her head in my lap, just staring at the People magazine on the coffee table. Princess Diana waved to me from the cover.

  Three young men come in briskly, all business. She was starting to stir as they put her on the stretcher, one of them taking her blood pressure. I was relieved to see her eyes fluttering open but broken hearted to see how scared they look.

  “What happened?” she says.

  “You fell, honey,” Aunt Shayla says, “We’re just going to take you to the hospital to make sure everything is ok.”

  “I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine.”

  “Well, you’re goin’ anyway.” My Aunt Shayla is not to be messed with.

  I don’t know where my place is in this. I also have no idea where my mother is.

  My Aunt Shayla and I follow the ambulance in her van. A Patsy Cline song calls out to me from the radio. That song will always be the soundtrack to that night.

  When we get there, things seem calmer. Grandma is sitting up and clearly annoyed that she has been forced to leave her home.

  “I’m tired, Shayla. I just want to be home. I don’t feel queasy, I don’t feel pain in my head. I just had a little dizzy spell and fell. Happens to all kinds. This is a damn waste of time!”

  Aunt Shayla just ignores her.

  Grandma looks at me, “Angel, you shouldn’t be here. You should be out with your friends or home sleeping.”

  “You’re silly. I have nowhere else to be. My place is with you.” I kiss her hand.

  As we wait for the doctor I pull Aunt Shayla aside.

  “Where is Mom?” I whisper.

  “Honey, I have no idea. She leaves every night. Treats your grandma’s house like a motel. Acts like your grandma has the flu and not a damn terminal disease. I don’t know what to tell you, but I don’t want to say anything nasty about your momma so we should probably just stop talking about her before I do.”

  “It’s okay. I’m probably thinking worse things than you could ever say.”

  My aunt looks at me, surprised, “That breaks my heart, baby.”

  A man in blue scrubs walks into the room, his sneakers squeaking.

  “Hello. I’m Dr. Harrison. Good evening, Mrs. McCurtis,” he puts out his hand to shake Grandma’s. “I heard you had a bit of a fall tonight. We want to make sure you didn’t get a concussion or any other sort of head injury. You seem to be alert, which is a great sign.”

  “Yeah. I don’t need to be here. I am not concussed.”

  Dr. Harrison gives a pained smile and glances at us. “Of course. We just need to be extra vigilant with your condition. Do you know why you fell? What is the last thing you remember?”

>   Grandma shakes her head. “I had stood up to look for the remote and next thing I knew I had all these people lookin’ at me like I was Lazarus risin’ from the dead! I don’t know what happened.”

  “Well, that must have been scary. We’re going to do a CT scan on your head, make sure you’re ok. We’ll be admitting you for the night so you can rest, it might take a while to run the tests we need, ok? I know that’s not your idea of a fun night but we will try to get you through it as quick as we can.”

  “No worries, Grandma. I’ll spend the night with you.” I say sitting in the stiff chair next to her bed.

  Dr. Harrison gives the pained smile again, “I’m afraid you have to be at least eighteen to stay the night. She’ll be ok, we’ll take great care of her.”

  Aunt Shayla walks out into the hall with Dr. Harrison. I close the door behind them.

  “Well, this is just completely ridiculous! People fall all the damn time! I don’t need to be takin’ up a bed that a real sick person could use.” Grandma folds her twiggy arms, defiant.

  “Grandma,” I say, “You are a sick person. That’s why they want to make extra sure you’re ok. I know you hate it but I need you to be well so just play along, ok? You’ll be back home tomorrow. We can have tomato sandwiches again. I’ll even watch Days of Our Lives with you.”

  Grandma smiles and takes my hand, “You mean One Life to Live. I know, angel. I shouldn’t be such a sourpuss. I just hate hospitals. I have spent way too much time in them. I’d just rather be with my angel.”

  Aunt Shayla comes back into the room, “Alright. Doc says they’re going to get the CT done as soon as they can, then if the results are good you’re going to rest while they run some blood tests. By the time it’s all done it’ll be morning and you can come on home. They won’t let you fall asleep until they know you don’t have a concussion. Addie, I called Mrs. Holt, she’s gonna come pick you up,” Aunt Shayla says to me in a lower voice, “Someone sent word your momma is at The Side Pocket. So at least we know she’s fine.”

  I kiss Grandma goodbye and promise to see her tomorrow and then I pull Aunt Shayla into the hall.