She added one last thing to her Christmas list. It was a long shot, but she'd been pretty good this year. She rolled it up around the magic coin & tossed it into well up by the courthouse. That well was dug out by the original settlers of Clemmons over 200 years ago. The rare Indian head penny carried the mint date of 1877 & old Cherokee who sold it to Jess said it was blessed by an ancient medicine man, her great grandfather.Jess made her wish & went back home to her lonely apartment, skipping Christmas eve with her father & his new wife. It made her sick to see how quickly the “new” wife dug her claws into her father, her 5th marriage, with barely 6 months past her step mother’s death.In the morning Jess woke to the sweet smell of custard. She jolted her feet to the floor & flew to the kitchen. There, at her kitchen counter stood a 5 foot tall woman, with a soft brown hair. A wave of tears flushed Jess’s eyes. “Georgia?” The woman turned shuffling her toasty feet in the green fuzzy slippers she always wore. It was her.“Oh honey, did I wake you? I just thought I’d get started on the pies.” Baking spices, cream & sugar cluttered the counter tops. In a large deep pot boiled at least a dozen eggs.“Do you want me to peel them?” I wiped my face clear. She nodded yes. I made the deviled eggs just as she had always taught me, lots of pepper, a sprinkle of salt & a splash of sweet pickle juice. It was the first time in 6 months I didn’t have to stop for the crying & call my cousin to weep.There weren’t many words said between us, nothing more than talking of Mimaw & Aunt Rose. She never asked me about Daddy & I didn’t want to tell her. We filled the kitchen like we always did, with pies, brittle & deviled eggs.The clock read almost noon. “Georgia, will you go with me?” I wanted this all to be real. I wanted to show up for Christmas lunch with a gift of life.“No honey, I can’t go.”“She’s nobody. I’ll call Daddy right now & tell him you’re here. If I do he’ll have to leave her.” My plea of tears streamed down my face faster than her fingers could wipe them away. She pulled me in to her chest & wrapped her arms around me tight. “Shhh, everything will be fine. I am always with you.”“Please don’t leave again.” I begged heaving my shoulders as I wept. “Why do you have to go? Why can’t you stay?”She pulled me back to look into my glassy eyes. “Think of your wish.” “My wish? I wished I could see you Christmas morning & you’re here. I don’t understand.” I said. She smiled back at tracing the lines in my face with her eyes. I gasped. “Let me get my camera.” If I had a picture then maybe I could prove she was here. I raced to my room & then I heard the mantel clock start to chime 12 o’clock. It dawned on me what she meant & I dashed back to the kitchen. She was gone. Georgia was no longer there. I had wished to see her Christmas morning, just the morning. It’s not what exactly what I wanted but the wishing well took its literal meaning of my wish & not my intentions. I sat in the chair drowning myself in a flood of sorrow. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I am going crazy & no one was ever here. I grabbed up the food I had prepared, sure the entire morning was desperate attempt to cope with the fact that I had to face a Christmas without Georgia & the beast of a woman my daddy married. I grabbed a scarf off the hook & wrapped it around my neck. I picked up my keys from the tray when something caught my eye. Under the kitchen table was a sprig of color. I ran over to the table & threw back the kitchen chair. Just under the seat sat a pair of worn green fuzzy slippers. I crashed to the floor on my knees & cradled them into my chest. It was her Christmas gift to me. Georgia died at the age of 55. One afternoon she took a nap & never woke up. True story of my stepmother, minus the wish come true.
Sorry it is so long. Plus the comments limit you to 4096 characters so my numbers are not written out and my I replaced all the "and" with "&". Please no one feel like you have to read my marathon flashy piece. It's just one of those pieces I had to get out of me.
She added one last thing to her Christmas list. It was a long shot, but she'd been pretty good this year. When Santa was reading over the lists, he came to hers and turned to Mrs. Clause. “A what spot?” Mrs. Clause shook his head. “Don't worry about it. You've never been able to find one.”
Did I really just post that? Jeesh.
Nicely handled, GwoE.
Nevets, yea...that was hilarious! HahahahaGWOE, very sweet.
Oh My Gosh, the G-spot comment was hilarious! But I really liked the "Girl with one eye"'s posting. Es Muy Bueno!