The Right Side of Memphis (10 page)

A few minutes later, they heard a commotion downstairs.  Billie was still reeling from the recent confession, and why Bobby didn’t let her know that Kelly knew the truth. They all went down to see what had happened.  Louise was saying, “I can’t believe it.  She was doing fine the last time we saw her.  It’s too soon.  She had so much left to do.” 

Billie asked, “Who are you talking about?” 

Andy said, “Ricky’s wi
fe, Lydia, passed away today.

It was a
tragic announcement, after one so completely shocking, and both out of the blue. What would this mean for Ricky Todd? Only time would tell.

T
o Be Continued….

Click here to purchase “Somewhere in My Heart”, Book 2 in the
Tennessee
Series, by Jennifer Scott.

“Naw. 
She’s okay.” I half managed to get out as my friends were teasing me about having a crush on April Powders. 

“Yeah, you do! Ohhhh, yeah, you do!  Jimmy likes April.  Jimmy likes April,” Mikey sang out loud while dancing around our lunch table.  I’m not sure how, exactly, I became friends with Mikey. 
I suppose it was because we had homeroom together since I could remember
.  He was
very tall for
a
thirteen
year old
and built like a lumber-jack.  And, like you’d assume from looking at hi
s unkempt hair and dirt-stained face
, he
had
absolutely no manners.  He d
idn’t
even
care if there were girls around when he needed
to pass gas, or shoot a booger out of
his nose.  And, he certainly didn’t mind embarrassing me in front of April
Powders
. 

I was
quickly turning
beet red, and wanted to die. 

April wa
s
a girl who I sa
t
next to each day in my English l
iteratu
re and biology classes.  She had
curly,
brown hair that always smelled like roses.  She wa
s our class
p
resident, and my lab p
artner in biology.  The truth was, I did
have a bit of a crush on her, but I’d never tell Mikey that.  No need to give him more ammunition to use on me
later.  It was always
so hard to concentrat
e on the biology lesson when I was sitting next to April.  I was
magically transported into the wishful thinking of my mind by the lovely, clean scent of April’s hair.  I
would get so nervous, though, that I had to constantly wipe
the palms of my hands on my pants in class
.  T
hey
would sweat so much when I was
around her. 
I mean, they would sweat a lot…so much so, that I fe
l
t
like a sweat facto
ry in biology!  I probably left
class everyday with pit stains
under my arms
too. 
I’m sure she
thought
I
was
a complete and utter idiot. 

Bei
ng thirteen and in high school wa
s hard to figure out.  As a teen and high-schooler, I
was
supposed to hit on girls every chance I g
o
t and try to get dates or more from them…but, just last year I
was
made fun of if I
even
had a crush on a girl, or a girl had a
crush on me.  I never really knew what to do, and Mikey seemed
to know that and po
unced
on me every chance he got
.
  Unfortunately, for me, he got
a lot of chances.  I mean A LOT!

“Aww…leave him alone, Mike,”
m
y best friend, Connor, interjected.  “Can’t ya see he’s embarrassed?”

Connor was
everything I wish
ed
I was. 
He wa
s taller than me…standing at
five foot nine inches.  He was
athletic
and toned.  He had
brown hair
and
hazel eyes
like me, but also
kind-of a crooked smile that seem
ed
to make girls swoon. 
He was the kind of guy who was
smart, funny, witty, goofy, and outgoin
g.  I felt very lucky to have him as my best friend.  I could
tell Connor anything and know
my
secrets
were
safe with him.  He
was completely trust-worthy, and we had been friends since I was nine years old.  That’s when
he stopped a bully from beating my face to a bloody stump
.  I know he was
just trying to protect me this time too, but Mikey
was hard to reel in when he knew
he
was
getting under
a person’s
skin. 

Just as Mikey was
about to start in again, and likely embarrass me to even greater depths than before, the school bell loudly
rang
. 

RRIIIINNNNNGGGGGG….

Saved by the bell, lunch wa
s over. 

I exhale
d
a huge sigh of relief, as I pick
ed
up my trash and partially eaten sandwich and toss
ed
them in the
fly ridden
trash can.  I miss
ed
while trying to shoot the
balled up wrapper into the can, as if
it
was
a basketball.  I quickly look
ed
around to make sure Mikey didn’t see my failure, and it seem
ed that I was
in the clear for once. 
Now, I just had
to make it through the rest of
the
day. 

Connor and I to
l
d Mikey we would see him later since he had
Algebra class on t
he other end of campus.  As we w
alk
ed
away, Mikey yell
ed
at the top of his lungs, “Jimmy!  See ya later, Loverboy!” and crack
ed
up
laughing to himself as he blew
a kiss
in
my direction.  About thirty
kids
stopped and started looking
at me and laughed…some
hysterically.   

“Don’
t mind him, dude,” Connor offered
, and playfully
tussled
my hair a
s he broke
away
to his locker.  He always knew
how to make me feel better.  

The
next few classes went well.  I did
n’t have any classes the second half of the day with either Mikey or April, so I c
ould
just focus on my schoolwork.  I
was always a
teacher’s
pet type of guy.  I naturally got good grades, and was
always polite and
attentive to my teachers.  I did
n’t brown-
nose or anything, but I still go
t singled out as the example to follow in quite a few of my classes. 

Finally, the last bell of the day
rang
and I
couldn’t
wait to
get home.  Mom said that if I go
t my homework done early enough,
we could
go look at Christmas lights around town.  I’ve always loved Christmas.
Living in Washington State, I was
fortunate enough to get a white Chri
stmas every year.  It just seemed
to make everything so much more magical.  The lights seem
ed
to twinkle more, as they reflect
ed
off the snow and ice…
and the people became
just a tiny bit happier, in spite of having to drive in a foot of snow. 
T
he cold temperature
s mad
e
me
wanna get a fire going in the fireplace, and drink hot cocoa while watching
my
favorite Christmas television special. 
I had to imagine the fire since we never had a fireplace in our house.
   

Connor and I live
d
right next door to each other, so we always walk
ed
home together and talk
ed
about our day. 
It was
actually the part of my day I normally look
ed
forward to most. 

“Wanna have a snowball fight throw-down?” Connor
challenged
as we passed the park near our houses.  A snowball fight throw-down is like the ultimate snowball fig
ht….winner takes all.  The last three
years Connor has held the championship, but I
was
dete
rmined to beat him one day.  It would
have to wait until some other day though. 

“Can’t today, bud.  We’re going to go look at Christmas lights tonight, so I gotta get my homework for Mrs
.
Schiltz’s class done ASAP!” I answer
ed
.  “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Deal.” Connor said with one of his patented
wink
s
as we each cross
ed
our front yards. 

As soon as I opened
the worn and squeaky
door, I thre
w off my snow covered shoes and r
a
n straight to the fridge.  I
was
fortunate enough to have a very good metabolism.  Though, sometimes, I wonder
ed if I was
too thin.  I weigh
ed
just under
one hundred and thirty pounds
.  I
felt like that was
a good weight for my age and height.  I gra
b
b
ed
some whole wheat bread, three or four ham slices, colby-jack cheese, and some Cheez-Its and head
ed
to my room.  I put a sandwich together
quickly, and go
t my books out of my hand-me-down
book bag
. 

“Is that you, Honey?” I hear
d
Mom yell from down the hall.  My Mom
wa
s a very pretty lady,
who
had to raise two kids all alone.  She work
ed
hard as a deli manager in our local super-market,
and
always seem
ed
to have a smile on her face. 
Sometimes, I worried that she worked too hard.  She was
older than most of my friends’ moms, and shouldn’t
have been
doing
as much manual labor as she did
.  My friends use
d
to tease me when I was little about my Mom being the same age as their
g
randmas, but I still
thought
she was the best Mom
around
. 
When I would see
laundry detergent commercials on television,
I
remember
ed
my childhood being just like
what wa
s portrayed in them.  The rays of sun would be coming in the windows, with a gentle
s
pring breeze.  Mom would always have everything smelling so great, and welcome me home from school with a perfect smile on her loving face. 

“Yeah.  I’m starting on my homework now.  Are we still going to look at lights tonight?” I ask
ed
her. 

“As long as you and your sister get your homework done in time,”
s
he holler
ed
back from down the hall. 

My sister’
s
name was
Sarah.  Don’t let the angelic sounding name fool you. 
She was pretty…s
he definitely got Mom’s looks. 
She had
the same long, wavy, blonde hair that shimmer
ed
, and eyes that change
d
between blue and green depending
upon which type of a mood she was in.  Her skin was
very pale, almost porcelain-like.  But, m
y sister could be
mean…
.to me, at least.  I guess that wa
s to be expe
cted from an older sister.  She just turned
sixteen
, and th
ought
she
wa
s too cool to hang around her dorky, younger brother.  Even as kids, she seemed to find ways to torment me while we played together.  When I was barely eight, she would only play with me if I would pet and talk to her feet.  She would pretend they were turtles, and if I didn’t pet them, and snuggle with them, their feelings would get hurt.  On
several
occasions, she
made
me eat the dead skin from her feet…telling me it tasted like bacon, and that the turtles made it for me.  And, of course, she always got her way.  Anytime we had to pick a game to play or
decide on
what to watch on TV, it was always what she wanted.  I always figured my mom loved her
more
, but it could’ve just been that she was mom’s first-born, or because they were both girls.  Maybe it was just because my sister threw the biggest fit if she
didn’t
get her way. 
O
ne time, we were having an argument at
Wendy’s
about something and she took her packet of black pepper and blew the pepper right
into my eyes.  Boy, did it burn!
  Of course, s
he claimed it was an accident, but, I knew better.  I told myself that I hoped she wa
sn’t planning on coming home late and messing up our trip to go see the Christmas lights.