Chapter Ten #2
I drove up to Ada Lou’s place. Her truck was there, but no one answered when I knocked on the door. It was too early for Jackson to be in his trailer, so I went back into my SUV and headed north to Dell City. Rosie’s truck was in front of her church, but I didn’t see Scarlett’s car anywhere.
I sure wasn’t ready to go home to an empty trailer, so I kept driving past the oil rig and on into New Mexico.
I passed a sign that told me I was heading for Cloudcroft, population 750 and elevation over eight thousand feet.
That sounded like a fairy tale after spending so many days in a flat country with only tumbleweeds and yucca plants.
Maybe there would be a place where I could grab a hot cup of coffee, and if I was lucky, Rosalie and Scarlett would be home when I got back.
I left the desert country behind and drove up into a brand-new world.
No more yucca plants and cactus, but now tall pine trees and mountains were all around me.
When I realized that it was almost four o’clock, I told myself to turn around at the next opportunity, but I didn’t want to leave the beauty.
The roads were clear, but there was a layer of snow on the trees as well as the ground, turning the whole area into what could be on a picturesque Christmas card.
A long, winding curve brought me into a small town that looked like the setting for an old Western movie.
“Why couldn’t the café be in this place?” I groaned. “I haven’t even seen one of those wicked tumbleweeds up here in the mountains.”
I parked in front of the Old Apple Barn, beneath a sign that said their fudge factory was open daily. I got out of the SUV and started up the steps to a porch with all kinds of pottery hanging between the posts.
If you made a home in these parts, you could buy things like these to decorate your house with. Mama was back again, and there was no doubt that she was ready for me to put down roots.
“Why are you talking to me now?” I muttered.
Because I don’t want you to play poker. I never did, and I hate Frank for taking you out of school, and I hate his new wife for being so hard on you that you couldn’t live a normal life with them.
I want grandchildren. I want to see you break this chain of only children by having a yardful of kids.
I won’t rest in peace until you do, and if you go back to your old lifestyle, I won’t pop into your head again.
“Well, imagine finding you here!” Nancy stepped outside as I started in.
“Right back at you.” I was glad to see a familiar face so I wouldn’t have to argue with my mother.
It had never occurred to me that my mother would have been disappointed in my choice to go out on my own. Had she really expected me to live with Frank and Paula and all their asinine rules?
“Look who I found,” Nancy yelled over her shoulder.
“I might not be thirty anymore, but I hear just fine, so don’t holler at me. I’m right behind you. What are you doing up here, Carla?” Ada Lou asked.
“I started driving and wound up in this place,” I answered.
Ada Lou stopped in her tracks. “Are you going to keep driving, or maybe find a poker game?”
“Hadn’t planned on it,” I said. “What are y’all doing here?”
“We make the drive once a month to get out of the desert.” Ada Lou looped her arm through mine. “We’ve got two more stops to make, and then we’re starting home. You can follow us. That way, if Nancy runs off the road, we’ll have someone to drag our cold dead bodies out of her car.”
“Hush!” Nancy snapped. “I don’t like to drive after dark, but when it’s light I am better than you are behind the wheel.”
“In your dreams,” Ada Lou shot back at her, and then said, “We need to be back on flat land before it gets dark. The roads are so windy and steep that I don’t know why I ever let her take a turn when we come up here.”
She started walking, and I let her take the lead. “Where are we going?”
We passed a couple of places and then she pointed at a sign: Happy Ever After.
“This is where we get our honey while we are here. It’s the best in the whole area and goes right fine on biscuits,” Nancy said.
“If Ada Lou isn’t in a pissy mood, I take a pan full of ’em to her house for supper on Tuesday nights. ”
“What if she is?”
“Then she doesn’t get biscuits, or she can bake them herself. She is still using the crutch about losing her daughter to avoid turning on the oven and making anything,” Nancy said.
Ada Lou’s eyes had become mere slits when she whipped around to glare at Nancy. “We don’t tease about that, and you know it. If you say another word about Robin, I will ride home with Carla.”
Nancy hip-bumped her. “You know you love me more than your motorcycle.”
“Bullshit!” Ada Lou said and steered me inside.
I was mesmerized by all the merchandise. I was used to convenience stores, where I could buy gas, use the restroom, and maybe purchase some food to nibble on while I drove to the next hotel.
“I’ll have a big jar of honey,” Ada Lou told the lady behind the counter.
“So will I,” Nancy added.
“Me too.” The idea of drizzling honey on some of Rosie’s biscuits for breakfast sounded so good that I told the lady to make it two jars.
“Now, do we go home?” I was already planning to come back when I could spend more time shopping in all the stores.
“Just a quick run into the Burro Street Exchange,” Ada Lou answered. “I want a cup of good strong coffee and a lemon pie. I have to be awake when Nancy is driving.”
“I won’t mention Robin the rest of the day if you’ll give my driving a rest,” Nancy snapped.
Ada Lou’s wrinkles deepened around her mouth as she clamped it shut. “Deal. But because you brought it up in the first place, I’m not going to share my lemon pie with you.”
“I can always take a pan of biscuits to Jackson instead of bringing them to you.” Nancy shook a finger at her.
“I can always put my honey on a bagel that I make in the toaster,” Ada Lou countered.
The aroma of coffee and something that smelled like pumpkin pie swept over me the moment we were inside. I could have easily whiled away a whole day in the store and spent every dollar on my debit card.
“I’ll have two cups of the strongest coffee you have and a lemon pie,” Ada Lou told the young barista.
“Are you treating me to a coffee, or are they both for you?” Nancy asked.
Ada Lou eyes twinkled even though she frowned. “I have to keep you awake. I’m not ready to meet my maker just yet.”
“We agreed not to argue,” Nancy reminded her.
“I’ll take a salted caramel latte and a pumpkin pie,” I said.
“Have that ready in a jiffy,” the barista said with a smile.
I hated to leave the store, but like Ada Lou said, it would be dark in a little while, and the crooked roads could be dangerous to those of us who weren’t used to driving on them.
When we were back at the Old Apple Barn, they got into Nancy’s small compact car and waved goodbye to me.
I set my pie on the floorboard behind the driver’s seat and put my cup of coffee in the cupholder on the console.
“Well, that was an adventure,” I said as I backed out of the space and told the GPS to take me back to the Tumbleweed.
“I do not find a city named Tumbleweed,” she said in her usual tinny voice.
“Take me to Dell City,” I said.
Once I was back on the road going south, I didn’t pay any attention to her directions and let my mind wander.
I thought about helping Mama make pumpkin pies to take to Frank’s Thanksgiving family gatherings.
She’d let me use a tiny metal cookie cutter to make little maple leaves out of the leftover dough to scatter around the edge.
When there was more than we needed, she would let me sprinkle them with sugar and cinnamon and bake them like cookies.
“I miss you, Mama,” I whispered and realized that I was back on flat land with a gorgeous sunset all around me.
Shades of orange, purple, pink, and yellow filled the sky.
The only way I could describe it was that, had it been music, it would have been like a surround sound on a stereo coming at me from every direction.
I imagined that I was sitting on a small island in the middle of the ocean, and someone had poured several buckets of paint from out there in the universe into the sky.
The GPS lady angered me when she spoke and broke the magic: “You have a message from Jackson Armstrong. Shall I read it?”
“Yes!” I snapped, and half expected her to tell me not to be hateful, but she didn’t—thank goodness.
“I apologize again about today. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow evening to make up for such short notice about going to Sierra Blanca today? Pick you up at six? End of message. Do you want to send a return message?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Tell him he is forgiven, and I will be ready.”
“Sent. He says, thank you. Do you want to send a return message?”
“No,” I answered, and got a whiff of the pie behind me.
“Why are all these memories coming back to me since I arrived in this desolate place?” I asked. The GPS lady didn’t even try to answer that, but I could almost feel Mama’s presence beside me.
No matter how far you go or where you are, memories will be with you or follow you. I heard her voice as plain as if she really was sitting in the passenger seat. They are what keep a person alive in your heart.