Vada Faith Read Free

are not my boss. I hate you sometimes, Joy Ruth. Lately I hate you a lot.”
    “The feeling is mutual.”
    I grabbed my “Shop ’til I Drop” tote bag and slammed out of the shop. Miss High and Mighty could finish the inventory and close up by herself. I was mad as a hornet. She was being a pain in the butt. I was mad at myself too. For letting her get to me. For knowing she was right about talking it over with John Wasper sooner. Just when I’d thought things in my life were about to get better.
    I set off down the street, furious at the world for not being perfect.
    I didn’t look back as I hurried away. I knew Joy Ruth was standing in the doorway watching me. It was out of character for me to leave upset. I always wanted to work things out, especially with her. Well, she could just get used to things being different between us.
    It was time to cut the cord which had thickened between us when mama walked off and left us. Sure, she left us with our daddy. However, two little girls needed a mama more than they needed anything else.
    I headed down Main Street at a fast clip, the tote bag slapping at my legs. The sun beat down on the top of my head. I could feel a trickle of perspiration beginning at my hairline. I wished now I’d driven to work. I wasn’t in any mood to amble through City Park the way I usually did, enjoying the flowers and listening to the birds.
    Thoughts of mama leaving us in that run-down trailer with daddy ran through my mind like a bad movie.
    “Yoo hoo, Vada Faith!” I turned at the familiar voice.
    I shaded my eyes and looked across the street. Midgy Brown stood on the corner pushing her frizzy red hair out of her eyes.
    “Hey,” I said. While she was a good friend and steady customer I wasn’t in the mood to talk to her about her latest country heartthrob or about her latest cause. She was always heading up some committee to save something.
    Nope, today, I had my own problems to think about and nobody was going to help me. Nobody but me, myself, and I.

Chapter Two
    My very first lesson in small town dynamics came the summer I met John Wasper Waddell.
    It was hot that afternoon, the day he and his big brother Bruiser, and his younger brother Bobby Joe, rode up in front of our trailer on brand new bikes. Bruiser put down his shiny kick stand and yelled from the middle of the yard, “Hey, you twins. You wanna build a fort?”
    John Wasper and Bobby Joe had hopped off their bikes and stood beside him staring across the yard at us.
    It was almost too good to be true. There were no kids on our road and most days Joy Ruth and I were left to amuse ourselves.
    “Yes,” Joy Ruth and I screamed in unison, “we wanna build a fort.”
    We jumped from the front porch steps where we’d been fighting over the comics and raced to meet them, tripping over our flip flops as we went. We showed the boys the creek that ran along the back of the property. They promptly jumped in and splashed us until our shorts and shirts clung to our skinny bodies like Saran Wrap and our blond hair hung in strings. We didn’t care.
    When their backs were turned we pushed them into the creek and fell in behind them, laughing and splashing.
    That was the beginning of our friendship. The boys came nearly every day after that and we spent hours hammering tree houses and forts and building dams in the creek to keep the turtles and frogs from escaping.
    If only we’d kept to that simple routine.
    However, we got bored and started making the long trek into town to the A & P for a candy bar. I was the only one who bought a different kind of candy bar each time.
    The day I bought my first Baby Ruth was when it happened.
    I had the candy bar in my hand and was pulling change from the pocket of my red seersucker shorts, anticipating the taste of chocolate and peanuts on my tongue. I got into the check-out line, leaving Joy Ruth and the boys to make their decisions. I was eager to peel off the red and white wrapper and take my