by Rhett DeVane
Sheila’s gaze roamed across the red rock canyon. “Never thought I’d see something as beautiful as this. I’m glad we planned this trip.”
“Yeah.” Abby nodded, smiling. “I haven’t had much time to spend with y’all since I returned to work—except for yoga.”
Sheila reached over and gave Abby’s hand a squeeze. “I’m so sad about Choo-choo. She should be here with us. I still can’t believe she’s . . . gone.”
“She’s here in spirit.” Abby shifted her weight to relieve the cramp in her leg. One day she might be able to hold the lotus position, but for now, her feet went numb and prickly after a couple of minutes.
Sheila brushed red trail dust from the top of her new hot pink and purple hiking boots. “Who would’ve ever thought she’d pick up and move across the country like that? Elvina is still devastated.”
“Choo-choo wanted to be close to her daughter. I mean—other than us, what did she have in Chattahoochee? Her husband was gone, her dog. Just her in that house with memories. The last email I got from her sounded upbeat. She’s made new friends in the retirement condo, spends a lot of time with Jackie and Tee, and actually owns a computer and a cell phone. Imagine that.”
Sheila toyed with a small beetle that had scaled her shoe. “I still miss her terribly.”
“So we save up and take our next trip out to Portland. I haven’t ever been to the Pacific coast. Heck, I haven’t seen much of any place other than north Florida. Before I got sick, I hadn’t taken more than two days off in a row since my parents died.”
The two friends sat in compatible silence for a few moments before Sheila spoke. “You and Ben, that whole thing is so wonderful.”
Abby looked down at the modest engagement ring circling her finger. “Yeah, he is all that.”
“Suppose I’ll be losing my roommate soon.” Sheila glanced over and winked.
“No rush. Ben and I want to take our time getting to know each other better. Though, we had a pretty intense crash course with my surgeries.”
“No doubts then?”
“I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Abby would tell Ben everything about the Suicide Supper Club. It was time; she agreed with her counselor. No more hiding behind that last wall of fear. Ben had seen the insides of her guts; what could possibly compare? Symbolic, really.
Sheila removed the beetle and placed it on a fern. “One day, maybe I can find that kind of love.”
“Anything and everything is possible,” Abby said. “You can live at my house as long as you want, or need to. You know that. Ben and I both own homes. We can always rent mine, or his, to you after we’re married. It’ll work out.”
“That won’t be necessary, Abs. I’ve made a few decisions.” Sheila raised her arms to encompass the rock cliffs, then brought them back down and wrapped herself in a hug. “Being out here in all of this amazing glory has helped. I’m going to renovate our—my—house.”
Sheila’s features softened. “I’ve never had a place of my own. I went straight from my aunt’s house—she raised me after my parents were killed in that wreck—to Glenn’s. The house is paid off, on account of the mortgage insurance. And I have a little of Glenn’s life insurance and 401K money left after paying off the credit cards and buying my little Honda. Of course, that truck and boat are history. Good riddance.” She brushed her hands together. “I’ll repaint my house, inside and out.” She splayed her fingers in the air. “Bold, modern colors. New furniture, refinish the wood floors. And I’ll set up one bedroom for Buttercup. My cat has lived too long as a hobo.”
“I thought the house reminded you—”
“It does. It did.” Sheila frowned. “I’ve lived a lot of my life there, and some of the time was happy. Most wasn’t. But a house is only a shell you make into anything you want.”
Abby high-fived her friend. “Atta girl! That counselor you’ve been seeing seems to be helping you get your stuff together.” She motioned to Sheila’s colorful hiking ensemble, so bright and wacky, Abby almost had to squint to look at it. “Heck, even your wardrobe’s different. I haven’t seen you in one of those Stepford-wife dresses in months.”
“Packed them up and gave them to the women’s refuge house in Tallahassee. I have a long way to go still . . . I’ve even had this crazy idea of how I can make a living.”
“I’m all ears.”
Sheila’s eyes sparkled. “You know how I like to clean and organize?”
Abby laughed. “You’re kidding, right? All of the labels on the canned goods in the pantry are facing forward, and I can see the floor in Daddy’s shop.”
“My point. I want to start a cleaning and organizing service. Not like a weekly maid business. I’ll go in and help people clear out their clutter, get things more manageable. Like I did at your house. The whole idea makes me quiver.”
“Love you to death, Sheila, but you are one strange bird.”
“You ready for what I’m going to call my business?”
Abby waved one hand through the air. “You’re on a roll. Don’t stop now.”
“The De-Clutter Diva.” Sheila beamed.
Abby’s eyebrows shot up. “The logo possibilities are floating through my mind. Let the Diva De-clutter Your Dive.”
“Catchy.” Sheila tilted her head, considering. “I already have a couple of potential clients. One is Lucinda Myers.”
“That woman Glenn shot? Get out!”
“We’ve kind of become friends. Strange, I know. I visited her in the hospital, then we started talking over the phone.” Sheila paused, pointing to where two deer had stepped from a thicket of woods. In the national park where no hunter’s gun held them in its sights, the animals appeared unalarmed by the presence of humans.
Sheila slipped the camera from its pouch and snapped a couple of pictures. “Can’t believe they’re so calm.”
“It’s almost like they’re paid park employees.” Abby glanced at her watch and pantomimed. “C’mon, Harold. Fluff your tail and get a move on. We’re supposed to be down by the river at eight sharp! They’re unloading two busloads of tourists from Michigan.”
They laughed. The deer stopped grazing long enough to take note of them, then continued to nibble without concern.
Sheila’s eyes glistened. “I believe in divine intervention, and that good can come from bad. Do you?”
“After what we’ve all been through? Yes, I’d say I give it credence.”
“Lucinda and her husband were out to dinner that evening, discussing separation and possibly divorce. But after they had to go through everything . . .” Sheila smiled. “Lucinda told me they have found their way back to each other. They’re not perfect, but they’re at least trying.”
Abby twirled the engagement ring around on her finger. A good fit—not too loose but not binding. Ben, with his crooked smile that sent a warm glow from her heart to parts in the nether-lands. Steady Ben. Old-fashioned Ben. They hadn’t become intimate yet. Imagine that.
From easy friendship founded in drama and trial, to gentle affection, to devotion based on respect. Wasn’t that giddy teenage lust based on the first guy who looked her way and winked. Technically, she’d be a virgin on their wedding night. Six fumbling times in her late teens didn’t count as a love affair, nor a marriage. This coupling would be new. She hoped it would prove permanent, with plenty of time to explore and be explored. Sounded so romantic, two lovers paddling into the crimson sunset with a host of angels singing the chorus.
And her hair. Even that had improved. The short, layered cut with a different part—thanks to Mandy and professional hair products—looked half decent most of the time. Like Mandy said, “a woman can never have enough quality hair spray.”
Her hair. Her life. Seemed as if she had a clue. She’d been a realist for so long, such blind optimism was an awkward stretch. Hopeful yet guarded, she might achieve.
Sheila’s voice came out childlike, musical. “And Choo-choo is working things out with Jackie. Lo
iscell’s getting stronger every day after her chemo and radiation. And you are—”
If Sheila could manage a bit of optimism, by God, so could she. Abby’s gaze rested on a spot where the morning light created a crystalline halo across the canyon walls.
“Me? I’m good.”
THE END
If you enjoyed this book, the author would appreciate the time you take to leave a review on the Kindle book’s webpage on Amazon.
She thanks you, hon!
Want to read more from Rhett DeVane? These titles also available online from Amazon.
Other titles in the Southern fiction series:
The Madhatter’s Guide to Chocolate
Up the Devil’s Belly
Mama’s Comfort Food
Cathead Crazy
Coauthored novels:
Accidental Ambition (with Senator Robert W. McKnight)
Evenings on Dark Island (with Larry Rock) E-versions version available on www.smashwords.com
Find info on future releases and current titles on her website: www.rhettdevane.com
Middle Grade Fiction:
Elsbeth and Sim
Acknowledgements
Rhett wishes to thank the following people:
My family. For not disowning me. For knowing authors are, at best, a little crazy. To Denise Fletcher and the entire Fletcher gang for their continued love and support.
To Amy and Marc and the gang at Bella Bella! Food good enough to choose for your favorite meal.
The city of Chattahoochee, Florida, for being such a wonderful hometown. Can’t think of a better setting for a gathering of novels. My characters are fortunate to “live” there.
The Wild Women Writers Critique authors—Donna Meredith, Peggy Kassees, Susan Womble, and Hannah Mahler. Without you, I would’ve pitched my laptop to the curb long ago.
Tallahassee Writers Association: a group of the most supportive fellow writers on the planet.
Fellow author and friend Roberta Burton, for aiding me with revisions and helping me maintain my sanity. To Elizabeth Babski for her excellent graphic design.
Law enforcement experts Kathy Kennedy and Kelly Walker.
Medical/nursing information experts Mary Menard, RN and Dianne Sutherland, RN.
Dr. Bill Cooke, best boss in the world and expert on guns and ammo.
My coworkers for attending book functions and listening to me either whoop or whine. What an amazing group of people!
My network of old and new friends, near and far.
My patients—bless your hearts; you have been there every step of this journey.
And to this universe for allowing me to create! Being a writer is equal parts blessing and curse. But worth it, oh my, worth it.
A note from the author
I’ve always felt that stories come from some higher source— provided for me to write, or not. When the idea for this book arrived, I balked. A novel about a group suicide— are you kidding me? I’m part writer, part comedian. Suicide is serious, and I tend toward adding in a touch of comedy. How insulting would humor be for those family members that have had a loved one take this irreversible step!
But the muses wouldn’t let me be. I started this novel many times, only to push it aside for other projects. Until it wouldn’t allow that. Nope, they said, you’re going to sit down at that fancy laptop and crank this one out, whether you like the subject matter or not. Either that or we’ll move along to a writer that deserves our time.
Turns out, I should’ve listened from the start. Far from an endorsement of suicide, the story of these four very different, yet equally desperate women illustrates the endless possibilities of life. Plus, it showed me how full of dark humor and folly we humans can be.
If only one person on that cliff-edge reads this and entertains a way out other than death, this novel serves its ultimate purpose.
My best to all of my readers,
Rhett DeVane
About the Author
Rhett DeVane is a true Southerner, born and raised in the muggy, bug-infested forests of the Florida panhandle. For the past thirty-plus years, Rhett has made her home in Tallahassee, located in Florida’s Big Bend area, where she splits her workdays between her two professions: dental hygienist and novelist.
Rhett is the author of four published mainstream humorous fiction novels set in her hometown of Chattahoochee, a place with “two stoplights and a mental institution on the main drag”: The Madhatter’s Guide to Chocolate, Up the Devil’s Belly, Mama’s Comfort Food, and Cathead Crazy. She is coauthor of two novels: Evenings on Dark Island with Larry Rock and Accidental Ambition with Robert W. McKnight. In addition, Rhett has released the first in a series of middle grade fiction, Elsbeth and Sim.
“One of the best things,” Rhett says, “is sharing my brand of Southern crazy with others. When I write, and especially when I step in front of a mic, the stand-up comedian that idles inside me snatches the wheel. I never know where that kook will take me.”
Rhett donates a portion of her book royalties to support causes in which she believes. “It is important—no, vital—that I use what life has provided, to help others. Even small amounts over time add up. I may be a tiny ripple in a big pond, but that ripple can still make a difference.”
Rhett writes to stay balanced. The way this world is today, it’s a must. “Humor lifts me. I think it lifts others. As long as I am on this side of the dirt, I will find a way to laugh, and to share that with as many people as possible.”
To learn more about Rhett and her writing, visit her website and blog:
Rhett’s website: www.rhettdevane.com
Rhett’s crazy Southern blog: www.southernhat-titude.blogspot.com
Recipes from the SSC Ladies
It has been my custom to scatter a few Southern recipes through my novels. I figured this one might be a bit too serious in nature for such frivolity.
Then some of my faithful readers groused. So I thought about what the characters might say on the subject.
Abby, Choo-choo, Loiscell, and Shelia spoke right up, told me they wouldn’t mind sharing a favorite recipe, not a’tall. Said food was what might make life worth living, especially after what they went through. “You see,” they said, “we Southern folk use food as a balm for most anything.”
I caved. Oh, and while I was at it, I included one of my own.
Rhett
Abby’s Easy as Apple Pie
I don’t cook. Well, sometimes if I have to. But this recipe is super easy and makes me look good.
1 stick of butter (room temperature soft)
1 cup sugar
¾ cup self-rising flour
8 ounce Velveeta cheese, slightly melted
2 cans Whitehouse sliced apples
Cream together first four ingredients. Butter a small oblong casserole dish and spread apples over the bottom. Cover with the flour/sugar/butter/cheese mixture.
Bake in preheated 375º oven for 30 minutes.
Serve warm with ice cream or whipped topping.
Choo-choo’s Grape Salad
This is one of my favorite salads. Easy, easy! Especially delightful in the summer, served cold. Use as a side dish or light dessert.
1 lb. seedless green grapes, washed and allowed to dry
1 lb. seedless red grapes, washed and allowed to dry
3/4 cup white sugar or equivalent amount of Splenda or Stevia Extract sweetener
8 ounces sour cream
8 ounces of softened cream cheese
1 Tbsp. vanilla
Cream together sugar, sour cream, cream cheese, and vanilla until smooth. Add grapes and toss with spoon until all grapes are coated.
Topping:
¾ cup brown sugar
1 cup chopped nuts
Toss sugar and nuts together until blended. Sprinkle over the top of grape mixture.
Chill overnight. Serve cold.
Note: I often use plain Greek yogurt for ½ of the sour cream. I use sugar substitutes for bo
th the white and brown sugar.
Loiscell’s Tomato Pie
When I was undergoing chemotherapy, my stomach couldn’t abide spice or acidity. I got so tired of chicken and rice! As soon as I could, I whipped up my tomato pie and ate nearly all of it by myself. This is a good way to use those homegrown tomatoes and the sweet Vidalia onions we have down here, but it’s still good with most kinds of tomatoes and a good, sweet onion.
1, 9-inch pie shell
½ yellow or white onion, chopped
3-4 tomatoes, cut in half horizontally, squeezed a little to remove excess juice, then roughly chopped to yield about 3 cups
¼ cup sliced basil (about 8 leaves)
2 cups grated cheese (I use sharp cheddar and Monterey Jack)
¾ cup mayonnaise
1 tsp. Tabasco sauce (or more to taste)
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
Preheat oven to 350º.
Cook pie shell for 8-10 minutes or longer until slightly golden. Remove from oven.
Squeeze as much moisture from chopped tomatoes, using either paper towels, or a potato ricer.
Sprinkle bottom of the precooked pie shell with the chopped onion. Spread the tomatoes over the onion, then sprinkle the sliced basil over the tomatoes.
In a bowl, mix together cheese, mayo, Tabasco, a pinch of salt, and a little black pepper. This will be a gooey mixture. Spread the cheese mixture over the tomatoes.
Bake until browned and bubbly, anywhere from 25 to 40 minutes.
Sheila’s Banana Nut Muffins
I take these everywhere. Really good with coffee for a quick breakfast. This is a wonderful way to use those overripe bananas instead of throwing them out. I even peel and freeze the bananas and use them later, too. No use to waste!
