Saturday, October 29, 2011
A thousand things I’d heard about her raced through my mind, but I couldn’t think of any one thing to say. My silence lasted what seemed like an eternity. Two dogs began to fight in the dirt yard outside her two room "cottage," but their spat stopped when a trucker used his jake breaks as he began picking up a little too much speed descending the hill leading into town.
My hands shook as I picked up my cup for a second sip. She recognized my total panic and was about to speak when I finally remembered how my voice worked.
“Keck, Eck’n Cleal say you’re a good mom,” I said.
