“Oh dear,” I heard from behind.
I spun, still hobbling on one foot as an older woman rushed toward me from the street. Leaning against the back bumper, I rubbed the top of my foot where the cans had hit, my cheeks flushing.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked, scurrying toward me.
“I’m fine. A klutz, but fine nonetheless.”
She chuckled, bending to retrieve a few of the bags as soon as she reached me. I helped, standing once each of our arms were weighed down.
“Anything hurt?”
“My pride.”
A smile sparked on her face once more. “Ah, pride is such a funny thing, isn’t it? You never really even know it’s there until it’s wounded. Come on,” she continued, nodding to the cabin. “Let’s get these bags inside. I’ll help you.”
I led the way, the older woman with the gentle eyes following right behind. It took us another trip to completely unload, and once I had a kitchen counter full of bags, I turned to thank her.
“I really appreciate that.”
“It’s nothing. I’m Vonnie, but everyone calls me Momma Von.”
I smiled, reaching for the hand she’d extended. “Wren.”
“Nice to meet you, Wren.”
She hooked her hands on her hips and looked around, flicking her light blonde bangs from her face. Her hair was short, graying just a bit at the top, framing her round, tan face. She didn’t wear an ounce of makeup, and she was strikingly beautiful, with bright blue eyes and laugh lines that told me more about the life she led than her words could have. Her frame was slight, and though her sun dress was what should have caught my eyes first, it was the lack of a ring on her left hand that did.
I found myself looking for that more than I used to, and I wondered why. Maybe I was looking for a friend, for someone who understood, or maybe it was just nice to see that life went on without a husband. Though, how was I to know if she was single by choice or circumstance?
“So, you bought this old place from Abe, huh?”
My hand reached for the back of my neck out of habit. “Oh, no... I’m just renting for the summer.”
Her attention snapped back to me. “Oh? I was under the impression he was selling it.”
“He is,” I clarified. “But he... well he’s sort of doing me a favor, letting me stay for a few months while he visits his family. I think he’s going to put it back on the market in the fall.”
Momma Von eyed me that same way Abdiel had, like she, too, wondered who I was and what I was doing in her small town. But there was something else in her eyes, a hint of understanding, and she smiled softly. “Well, you picked a great time to stay here. Summer is beautiful. Here, what do you say I help you unload these and then I can take you around, introduce you to some folks?”
“Oh no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that.”
“Posh,” she said with a wave of her hands, already moving to unload the first bag. “I want to. No sense in sitting in a cabin by yourself all summer. Besides, it’ll give this old woman someone to talk to.”
And talk she did.
I learned more about Momma Von in the twenty minutes we spent organizing my kitchen than I did about most people in a lifetime of knowing them. I learned quickly that she was very open, and very blunt, and that I appreciated both of those things immensely. After all, I’d lived with a man who preferred to never talk about his feelings for the majority of my adult life and with a family who saw communication as a weakness through all of my youth.
But Momma Von loved to talk, and she told me all about how she stumbled into the small cabin community when she was about ten years older than I was. She’d traveled the world before that, staying no longer than a year or two in country after country and working wherever she could find a job, mostly nannying or bartending. And though her vast knowledge of the world and its culture or her fluidity in three languages should have been what fascinated me most, it was her five marriages that held that title.
“Oh honey, why only be married once?” she said, tucking a few jars of pasta sauce into one of the cabinets. “Love is far too fun to experience it with just one person your entire life. But then again, I’m sort of a lush when it comes to romance.” She shrugged. “I like the feeling of being drunk off another person. And who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to relationships?”
“Everyone,” I chimed in. “In my experience, anyway.”
She gathered the spare plastic bags from the counter and tied them all together, tossing them under the sink for later use. “Yeah well, you ever wonder why so many have an opinion about what you do with your life, though? Is it because they really think what you’re doing is wrong, or is it because they need to convince themselves that what they’re doing is right?” Momma Von didn’t give me a chance to respond before brushing her hands off and hooking her arm through mine. “Come, let’s walk.”
It was a beautiful afternoon, a light breeze sweeping in through the trees and the cabins to meet where Momma Von and I walked on the road between them. It wasn’t hot just yet, but it was warm enough to wear shorts, and I tucked my hands into the pocket of mine as we strolled by the next cabin.
“So that’s Martha and Lou’s, you’ll meet them at the annual pig roast.”
“Pig roast?”
“Oh yes, it’s quite the summer event around here. The whole community kind of turns into a block party. There’s horseshoe tournaments, multiple kegs, family events for the kids and plenty of adult entertainment well into the night. Lots of fun, lots of trouble,” she added with a wink. “But yeah, Martha and Lou have been married since they were born, practically. They stay down south in Florida for the winters but always come back for the summer for the pig roast.”
I laughed, the idea of having an entire event centered around roasting a farm animal absolutely ludicrous to me. But Momma Von was dead serious, and the more we walked, the more I discovered she was hell bent on me attending. She was in the middle of brainstorming what activities I could help plan for it when a little boy came barreling out into the street, completely naked.
“Wee wee, wee wee, wee wee!” he chanted, chubby legs taking him just past us before a woman around my age came racing after him.
“You stop right now, Benjamin, or so help me I’ll tan your hide!”
Momma Von laughed. “I told you once he started walking, you’d be in trouble.”
“Not the time, Momma Von,” the woman said in a rush as she passed us, long black hair flying behind her, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.
She finally caught Benjamin, swinging him up and over her shoulders as he giggled with delight. She smacked his bare butt playfully, keeping him hoisted as she walked our way again.