She hit my arm and said, “I know that much, so move on already. Tell me about your family.”
“My parents passed away a while ago.”
“Tell me what your mother like.”
“She was wonderful, so kind and loving and she genuinely wished the best for everyone. Her name was Claudia Grace, but my father never called her anything but, Grace, and he was the only one allowed to call her that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a funny story actually. My parents were just about to be introduced by my mother’s cousin when she tripped and fell into my father. She was mortified and my father only made it worse by jokingly saying, “Well, Grace, are you alright?” He thought he was being witty, but she was so embarrassed she wouldn’t speak to him. He chased her, begging for a date, and it took a whole year for her to give in to him.”
That wasn’t exactly the way the whole story went. After seeking my grandfather’s approval, my father came to call upon my mother at my grandparent’s plantation once a week, for an entire year. He traveled more than an hour one way and my mother declined his invitation every week until exactly one year, to the day, of falling into his arms.
“That is so romantic. I bet your mother was beautiful.”
“She was petite with long blonde hair, and her skin was fair, like a porcelain doll.”
She smiled mischievously, as she reached up and softly yanked one of my dark waves, saying, “Then where did you get this?”
“I’m getting there, hold your horses.” I pointed to my hair and said, “I got this from my father, James. He was so in love with my mother and was never ashamed to show his affection for her. He was a loving father, but a firm disciplinarian. He made me choose my own switch more than one time.”
“He should have whipped you more than he did,” she laughed.
I thought of the times he wore me out with a switch from that little green apple tree in the yard. “He wasn’t afraid to discipline me when I needed it.”
“Was he handsome?”
“Of course, I look just like him,” I said, through a big grin.
“You’ve got a bite,” she informed me.
“Huh?” I grunted, confused.
She pointed to my line in the water saying, “There’s a fish about to steal your bait.”
I jerked my rod too quickly and lost him. “Missed him.”
She bent over the pier railing and said, “I’m guessing your missing your bait, too.”
I reeled in my line. “Yep. You’d be right about that, too.”
I baited my hook again tossed it out for the next contender, but she wasn’t finished with me yet. “What about brothers and sisters?”
“I was the oldest of three. My sister, Scarlet, looked like our mother and had her same loving personality. My brother, Sully, looked just like me and since there was only eighteen months between us, people always thought we were twins once we got up a little older.”
”You spent your life with people thinking you were a twin while I was a twin, but spent my life with no one knowing I was.”
I didn’t know that. Grady told me she had a younger sister, not a twin. “I didn’t know that. What’s her name?”
“Her name was Emelyn, but she died when we were born.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing if it was the right thing to say.
“I use to carry a lot of guilt because I survived, but it’s okay, now.”
“Why would you feel guilty?” I asked.
“We had twin to twin transfusion syndrome, meaning we shared an unbalanced blood supply and I took my share plus most of hers. When I was younger, I felt like I was the who killed her and I was ten before I understood it wasn’t my fault. Kids have a weird way of taking on the responsibility of things they have no control over.”
“What happened to make you realize you weren’t to blame?”
“I don’t think I really feel like fishing right now. Can we just walk instead?”
“Sure. I don’t think I’m much of a fisherman anyway, as you saw.”
We removed our shoes and walked on the beach, away from the house and I waited for her to continue her story. When she was ready, she continued, “My parents and younger sister were killed in a car accident eleven years ago. It was hours before we were found and I fell in and out of consciousness as I sat trapped in our car, knowing my family was dead, so I begin to pray I would die along with them.”
Her wound was old, but her pain was still fresh, as though it just happened. Tears threatened to spill at any moment and my heart broke for her as she continued, “My twin, Emelyn, appeared to me in what seemed like a dream, yet it wasn’t. Somehow, I was transported and found myself standing on the beach wearing a long white dress. I raised my eyes to the heavens as Emelyn descended to stand with me by the sea’s turbulent waters. I began to cry and tell her how sorry I was for killing her, while she held my face with her hands, then she told me that she was created to protect me and gladly gave her life for mine. She told me to stop praying for death because there were amazing things in store for me and I was being given the gift of life a second time. Everything became black and I awakened in the hospital.”
“The painting wasn’t a dream from your sleep at all, it is what you saw when the accident happened.”
“It’s been eleven years since the accident and I’ve never told anyone about that. I described to Granna, but I could never bring myself to tell her it actually happened.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
We walked farther down the beach and when I noticed she no longer walked by my side, I turned to see why. “Is something wrong?”
She stood on one foot with the other turned upward for assessment. “I stepped on something and I think I cut my foot.”
I went over to investigate. “Sit down and let the doctor have a look.”
I sat on the sand by her feet and took her left foot in my hand to investigate. “There’s a small cut, so we need to go back to the house to clean and dress it. You don’t need that to get infected.”
I helped her up and she began to walk with her foot turned over to the side. “It’s too far for you to hobble back to the house.” I bent at my knees and lowered to her level saying, “Here. Get on my back.” I expected an argument and she fulfilled my expectations to the fullest.
“It’s too far for you to carry me all the way back to the house.”
“I kinda know how far it is since we did walk here from the house, so stop arguing and hop on already or I’ll throw you in the water.”
I stood there squatting and waiting. “Are you going to let me continue to squat here looking foolish, or...” I turned around, p
icked her up and walked over to the water’s edge. “Do I just throw you in, now?”
Using her truest, southern belle accent, she said, “You wouldn’t dare. I’m a helpless, injured young lady.”
“That cut is saving you a trip into the water because I might feel responsible if your foot got infected and had to be amputated.”
“Thanks a lot. I’m glad to know your guilt is saving me a foot amputation.”
“Just get on my back already.”
She finally jumped on and I bounced her higher, up around my waist. I reached under each side of her thighs for support and she stretched her arms over my shoulders.
“I’m sorry you’re having to do this, but I do appreciate it.”
“Well, I know you cut your foot on purpose so you could make me throw my bad back out,” I kidded.
“Put me down now, I can hobble,” she said, frightened she already caused serious injury.
“You crack me up sometimes; I don’t have a back injury.”
She slapped me about three good times across my shoulders and upper back. “Well, I might have one now.”
I walked back slowly, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine and I never wanted it to end so I was sad to see the house getting closer. I began to walk even slower and she said, “Almost there. I think I will be owing you a massive back massage after this.” The thoughts of that made me happy, but it was a shame I wouldn’t be around to take advantage of it.
“Yeah. I think you do owe me at least an hour long massage, so when can I take you up on that? Would now be a good time?”
“Can I disinfect my foot before it has to be amputated?”
“Let me think about it, hmm, no.”
I turned and backed up to the steps for her dismount on the top step, then she crossed her leg and turned her foot to evaluate the damage. “Can I ask another favor?”
“Let me guess, you want me to piggyback you to work?”
She hit me in the thigh with her fist, kinda hard and I was impressed.
“Will you go to my bathroom and get the peroxide so I can pour it over my cut out here. The light inside is dim and I want you to make sure nothing is left in there.”