The Barefoot Summer

“I’ll get that programmed into my phone,” Hattie said. “And Gracie, I can’t wait for you to meet Lisa.” Hattie led her out of the cabin, talking the whole way.

Jamie followed Kate to the kitchen and started to dump what was left in a skillet into the trash, then paused with a frown as she stared at Kate’s burned toast and the mixture in the blender. “The toaster runs hot. You got to stand over it and watch it like a hawk or it will burn the bread every time. It’s so old it doesn’t have a setting on it. Whatever you’ve got in that blender looks like ground-up grass. There’s enough egg mixture left for a couple of burritos. You want it?” Jamie asked.

“If she doesn’t, I do,” Amanda said from the sofa.

Kate set the blender in the refrigerator and nodded. “They do smell good. I could eat one.”

“Well, rats! I could eat them both.” Amanda padded barefoot from the living room to the kitchen. She went straight to the microwave and put a cup of water into it to heat. When it dinged, she stirred instant decaf into it, added sugar and milk, and took a sip before she carried it to the table.

“Too bad. I’m having one,” Kate said. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Horrible, but better than if I’d been in that bed,” she said honestly.

Jamie whipped up two burritos in a few seconds, put them on a plate, and set them in front of Kate and Amanda. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with them. “Y’all ever hear of the seven steps of grief?”

Amanda bit the end off the burrito. “I thought it was twelve steps. I went past denial into anger last night.”

“It’s five,” Kate said.

“I’d expect someone as old as you to know,” Amanda said.

Jamie cocked her head to one side. “Age can knock the socks off youth any day of the week, so be careful. There are two of us older than you.” Jamie shook her head. “Back to the stages of grief. Tell us what happened to make you leave that bed. You whined for that room like a two-year-old wanting a cookie. So what changed your mind?”

Amanda swallowed and took a sip of coffee. “I talked to my friend Bailey, who was my maid of honor when I got married. Let’s just say she started to open my eyes, and then I went into that room and I could see all those women who’d been there before and after me. It was not a pretty sight. I went from denial and shock straight to anger.”

“Pain and guilt is step two,” Kate said.

“I tied that up with denial.” Amanda laid a hand on her stomach. “He’s kicking. I wish he’d been a girl now, because I don’t want him to grow up like Conrad.”

“You really did do a turnaround, didn’t you?” Jamie laughed.

“I honestly did. Now tell me what to expect on the rest of this grief crap. Have y’all hit the second stage yet?”

“Oh, honey, I started with anger in the cemetery,” Jamie said.

“I finished the whole process thirteen years ago when Conrad asked for a divorce the first time,” Kate said. “How did y’all meet Conrad?”

“I’m not sure I want to talk about personal things with either of you,” Amanda said with a sniff.

Jamie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Get over it, Amanda.”

“Don’t tell me what or what not to do,” she smarted off. “How’d you meet him, anyway?”

“I was at a beginning-of-school pool party at the principal’s house. He was the superintendent’s date but spent most of the night flirting with me. He left with my phone number, called, and asked me out the next week. We were married the last day of the year, and I got pregnant soon after. But when Gracie was born, there were complications, so we knew she’d be an only child.”

“Makes sense. I had a miscarriage, and the doctor said I couldn’t have children,” Kate said.

“Why does that make sense?” Amanda asked and then clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized what it meant. “He wanted a son, so he married me to get one, right? He only married me because I’m young and he might have a son with me.”

Kate shrugged. “He was a con artist, so who knows, but that would be my guess.”

“He was a jobber who came into our store to see if we wanted to buy from him,” Amanda said. “We set up an account and he flirted like crazy, asked me out that next weekend, and we went on a picnic to the park. Very romantic, under the stars. That was late summer, and like y’all, we were married on the last day of the year. I was about four weeks pregnant at that time, and we were both ecstatic that he’d have someone to carry on his family name.”

“If that is his name,” Kate said.

“He did marry all of us with the same name, Conrad Jonathan Steele, right?” Jamie asked.

Kate and Amanda both nodded.

“And you?” Amanda asked.

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