A Place Called Wiregrass by Michael Morris

Author:Michael Morris [Morris, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, General, Sagas, Religious
ISBN: 1589199669
Google: KoZctkHCXV0C
Amazon: B00256Z2TQ
Goodreads: 488876
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2002-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

“Mama wants a glass of orange juice,” Patricia said the following Saturday morning. She entered the kitchen, the part of the house I claimed as my territory. She smelled of Miss Claudia’s flowered perfume and carried a wooden tray with a plate of wheat toast. One piece was torn at the edge as though some tiny mouse had nibbled it.

I started to protest and demand that Patricia make Miss Claudia eat. Now we’re at the point where she won’t even eat toast. I yanked the refrigerator door open so hard Richard’s physician appointment cards slanted under the rainbow magnet. “All right. Let me get her some Florida sunshine,” I said with an edge to my voice.

Patricia ignored me and studied the yellow legal pad she held out in front of her. “Oh, Lord. Doctor Tom slipped up and invited the Thompsons.” The way she threw her teased hair back and fanned the pad in the air, I expected her to pass out any minute. I would step right over her plump waist and barge into Miss Claudia’s room. “Lauren Thompson said she’d rather take a beating than attend Cotillion with Margaret Linville. And Margaret’s daughter is coming out. So naturally I have to include her.” Patricia’s bright pink fingernail began scanning the guest list.

Did Lauren whatever-her-name-was even know what a beating felt like? I wondered as I poured the orange juice into the crystal glass. And for that matter, did Patricia even know the black-and-blue souvenirs left by licks to the flesh and soul? But Miss Claudia and me knew. All the more reason I should be the one seeing after her. While Patricia shook her head and scratched off names on her pad, I pushed the white swinging kitchen door open.

“Now, you know Mama’s not up to visitors,” Patricia said, not looking up from her list of Wiregrass’s social best.

I wanted to lash out at Patricia. To tell her the secrets Miss Claudia shared with me. I watched Patricia’s broad khaki rump twist down the hallway with Miss Claudia’s glass of breakfast, lunch, and supper. I hated Patricia that moment. Hated her for making me feel less than the person I knew Miss Claudia respected. Hated her being lucky enough to have a mother like Miss Claudia and not having the sense to appreciate her.

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