Free Queen Bee Goes Home Again by Haywood Smith Page A

just as they always had since I was young. Apparently, people on what was now the good side of the tracks still went to bed at a decent hour.
    High in the trees above me, July flies sang the summer songs of my childhood, accompanied by a chorus of frogs from the nearby branch (Southern for small stream ) for which the town was named.
    Serenaded by those ageless sounds, I closed my eyes, believing, just for a moment, that I was still in my prime, a woman who made men sit up and take notice. That I could still dance and sing and stay up really late to finish whatever I needed to do.
    But I couldn’t hold on to the illusion any more than I’d been able to hold on to my marriage, and the vision melted into the muggy darkness. An unexpected tear escaped the outer corner of my eye to run down in front of my ear, then another, and another.
    Weary of losing the things I’d loved and having to fight my way back, I sank in the rocker.
    Lord, I am too old to start over. Too tired. Too discouraged. I just don’t think I can do this.
    What about Sarah? my inner Puritan pointed out. She was over ninety, and she had the good grace to laugh when she was told she would have a son. At least you’re not pregnant.
    My stubborn self came back with First , I haven’t had a uterus since nineteen eighty-six, and you know it. And second, Sarah had a husband and servants to take care of her.
    A soggy cloud of self-pity settled inside me.
    I should have brought my cell phone. I needed to talk to Tricia.
    I was considering going to get it when Tommy came outside with a Diet Coke and plopped down beside me. He looked over and frowned. “You okay?”
    â€œNo.” I had no intention of going into it. I’d sound as self-absorbed as I was. After all, I had plenty of food, a car, a safe place to live (for free), air-conditioning, and indoor plumbing. That put me head and shoulders above ninety-eight percent of the world’s population.
    Tommy didn’t press. Instead, he took a long sip of his soda and rocked.
    Just having him there made the lump in my chest shrink.
    Then he said quietly, “I felt rotten when I had to move back in. So I drank even more to compensate. But eventually, I realized I had to change, or die.”
    He rolled the cold, sweating can across his brow. “It took a long time to get my head on straight, but I’ve learned a lot.” He finished the drink, placed the can on the painted floor beside his chair, then turned my way. “I learned to live in gratitude instead of anger and fear.”
    So had I, but I was fresh out of gratitude at the moment.
    He went on, “There’s joy to be had in every day, even if it’s just rocking here with my big sister on the porch.” The compliment was indirect, but welcome.
    His voice softened. “There’s still plenty of life in you, Lin. If you want to get a degree, get one. Don’t let anything stop you, not even yourself.”
    I felt better hearing that and gave my brother’s callused hand a brief squeeze where it rested on the arm of his rocker. “Thanks. But honestly, I’m not even sure I really want to, or if it was just the only other job I could think of that didn’t make me want to put a gun to my head.”
    â€œSounds like a good enough reason to do it.” He smiled, looking out into the small-town darkness for a long time before he broke the silence with, “Sure I can’t talk you into going fishing with me at five?”
    I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and said, “Actually, I’m showing houses in the morning to some guy who wants to move into town.”
    â€œThought you were through with that.”
    â€œI was, but you know Julia. She’s bound and determined for me to show this guy around, so there you are. What Julia wants, Julia gets.”
    Tommy chuckled, followed by a salacious, “Oh, yes. Including me.”
    I tucked my chin and stared at him.