Page 1 of Starting Our Chance

1 Loretta

Home.

My fingers trailed over the worn railing as my feet hesitated to take that first step onto the old porch. It had been a long time since I’d been standing in this same spot . . . except last time, I was leaving, not returning. Three years ago, I had started a new job and had vowed never to come back. Now look at me. My would-be epic life had come crashing down in flames.

Everything in Waynesboro Parish was exactly the same. The steadfastness mocked me—I was the one who had grown, seen the world, taken the business world by storm, and now returned to encounter that which had not budged an inch. Taking a deep breath, I climbed the three steps up to the porch. That’s when I saw the color was different; the whole wrap around had received a new coat of paint this summer. Must be Bobby’s doing. I smiled to myself. That was one thing that had changed around here for the better—Mama was dating a nice man who might stick around for once.

Before I lifted my hand to the creaky screen door, I looked behind me, beyond the pasture. Over my shoulder, the evening sunlight cast a fiery glaze over the western façade of the neighbor’s place. I wondered who lived there now. My heart squeezed ever so slightly at the flood of memories I kept bottled inside about my old neighbor. But it wasn’t the time to dredge those up now, not when I was on the threshold of a new life.

Here goes nothing.I turned back to the door, quit stalling, and rapped lightly on the screen door.

Realizing that they probably couldn’t hear me inside, I opened the screen, frowning at the lack of noise. Bobby must be really handy, because this thing had been oiled and the hinges changed out. I pounded on the burgundy door, happy that the dirty beige color from my youth had been replaced. It appeared a few things had changed around here. But not to the same level as I have.

I heard a bustling and the sounds of muttering on the other side of the door. I pasted a faux smile on my face and launched at the rotund woman who answered the door. “Hi Mama, I’m back!”

If I hadn’t been holding her so tightly, the good woman known in this town as Mrs. Forman would have fallen over.

When she began to hug me back, I relaxed ever so slightly. This felt so right; I was finally home.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Mama pushed against me so that she could look up into my face. I had always been glad that I had gotten my height from my father’s side, but there was no putting Mama down just because she was petite in stature. That penetrating, no nonsense gaze of hers could undo any grown man. And right now, I was on the receiving end of it as she demanded, “What happened?”

“Does something have to happen for a daughter to come back home for a visit?” I cocked my head to the side and gave her a wolfish grin. But Mama wasn’t buying it. It wasn’t like coming back was the ‘plan,’ but I’d decided I was going to make the best of it. That sentiment had been on repeat in my head ever since I’d put the Big Apple in my rearview.

“Your bags are huge. Don’t tell me this is a small trip.” Mama pushed around me and ventured out onto the porch, peering into the back seat of my car. The evidence there was all the confirmation she needed. “You are back here for good, then?”

“No.” The answer was quick and too definitive—but it came from my wounded pride.

I could see the slight sag in my mama’s shoulders. It had damn near broke her heart when I chose to move hundreds of miles up north.

“Mama, I meant I’m not back here for good. I am back in town for good though—probably. I just need to crash here for a few days . . . weeks at most!” I put a hand on her shoulder and softened my voice. “How about you make me a cup of tea and we talk about this?”

“And just why is it that you are back this side of the Mason Dixon with your things? Don’t you lie to me, Loretta Jane.”

I took a deep breath and gave her enough of the bad news to hide the truth. “I am going through a career change. I parted ways with my company and decided I needed a break from the city before I begin to job hunt.”

The humph that came out of my mother told me that she smelt the bullshit. Ambling down the steps, she went to my expensive, German-engineered vehicle and opened the back door.

“Mama, we can unpack later,” I protested.

“And let you have the excuse to take off again? Perhaps this time in the middle of the night?” She ducked inside and grabbed the designer luggage. “Not a chance. We’ll bring your stuff into the foyer and then you can explain what’s really happened.”

~*~

“I’M CHANGING CAREERS, Mama. I’m looking for a more prominent role. I plan on staying here while freelancing, building my resume and widening my experiences.” I kept my face carefully neutral as she stirred the cream into my tea cup. The less I told her about what had happened the better. I might have been let go from the company, but I had also made a very dangerous enemy in the process that my mama didn’t need to know about.

Although my old life had been everything I could have dreamed it to be, I knew that letting it go was the wisest choice given the circumstances. I wasn’t an idiot to hang onto the material and glamour when exile back home was the best option.

I am going to make the best of it.I repeated the mantra that I had given myself since deciding to leave everything behind.

“You haven’t been home for three years and yet, here you are.” There was a smile playing on her plump lips. “You’re broke, aren’t you?”

There it was. The first shoe had dropped. I took a sip of my tea, buying a precious second to formulate a good answer. The kitchen, clean and wholesome as ever, had subtle changes all over it. It would take a few days to get used to the different cabinet faces and the rearranged sink and stove in the new central island.

“Loretta Jane! Quit stalling and fess up.”

“Yes, Mama,” I murmured, dropping my eyes to my hands, which were now sitting in my lap. “I’m broke.”

The triumphant satisfaction rolling off of her was tangible. I was, however, figuring out how to keep the rest of my story from her inquisitive nature. So, I launched into a redacted version. “I left my job and the city for a change. You told me at Christmas—almost a year ago now—that I was going to burn out. And you were right. I also spent and spent, so I had to earn more and more. I knew I just couldn’t live that lifestyle any longer, so I decided to come back home to reassess.”

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