Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) by Sarah Anderson Read Free Book Online

you leave tomorrow, Char.”
My mom said as she dried her hands off on the well-worn dishtowel
beside the sink.
    “Grandma Rose has a new friend?” CeCe asked
with a slight twist of her neck and raised eyebrows.
    “I want to meet him too,” Richie smiled.
    “Just don’t ask him too many questions at
dinner Ce or Rose will yank your ear off,” I said seriously.
    “True story.” Richie said pointing to his
ear.
    “She did not pull your ear off Richie.” My
mother raised her voice from the laundry room.
    “Mom, I had to have a stitch put in the back
of my ear.” Richie said with his finger showing off the spot.
    “That’s only because you jerked away when
she was holding onto your ear after you mouthed off to her.” I
said, defending my sweet but brazen grandmother.
    My grandma Rose, my dad’s mom, is one of the
toughest women you’ll ever meet. She’s also very cunning. Not only
did she raise six kids on her own and run the peach orchard, which
my dad took over just before marrying my mother, she was also the
chair person for this committee, president for that club, and
school board member at St. Marys. Everyone knows my grandma in this
small town. My grandpa, who I never met, died very young while
working one hot summer day in the orchard. My grandmother found him
when she went out to take him his lunch. When the ambulance arrived
they could not find a pulse. Later, she found out that he’d had a
heart attack. She said that at first she was so devastated that it
paralyzed her from taking care of her kids, the farm, or any of the
other responsibilities on her plate. My grandmother has always
credited God and the love and support of a few good friends, namely
Evi, for getting her through those hard times. Although, I suspect
the nice tall glass of spirited lemonade she carries around helped
a bit too. My grandma still places a high value of keeping up with
her friends. For a seventy-year old granny, she maintains a
bustling schedule full of bridge, bingo, shopping and plenty of
mini vacations with her girlfriends. I can always tell when she did
well at bingo because she doesn’t get home until late—no doubt
celebrating her victories over dinner with friends. After my father
took over the farm, she had a quaint cottage built for her by the
weeping willows overlooking the small lake behind the orchard. She
said some of her most memorable experiences were spent by that lake
and she wanted to wake up to happy memories every day. You could
catch her starring out at the lake at times, smiling, quietly to
herself, like she had some great kept secret. Rose, although she is
empathetic, is not the person you’d go to if you were feeling sorry
for yourself. Despite her losses in life, she’s chosen to focus on
the wins only. She’s a fighter in true southern femme style. If
nothing else, she has taught me to hold on to the good things in
life- especially to the friends who stick with you through thick
and thin and… mud.
    “Okay Richie, enough reminiscing. We need to
get going if we’re going to get in Trixie’s and the beach before
dinner.” I called back to him from the stairway.
    “I’m ready whenever you girls are.” He
insisted.
    I quickly marched up the stairs with CeCe. I
still had some packing to do but I could easily pull an all-nighter
if I needed to. Right now I wanted to get to the beach and get some
more rays as I knew it wouldn’t be until next summer before I got
back there. And Trixie’s was definitely a priority because I wanted
to say goodbye to Trudy and get my favorite chocolate milkshake and
cheese fries, a staple in this teenage girl’s diet.
    Trixie’s, a small diner with big heart was
like a second home to CeCe, Richie, and I. For every celebratory
event, heartache, or rainy day, we plopped ourselves down in the
1950’s style booth in the corner right between the jukebox and the
Elvis Presley cutout. Trudy, a single mom and server at the diner,
for years, could have been a