Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
As we walk along, a memory from my childhood grips me and I lead her to its source. It’s a scarecrow with a face painted on a tin bucket for a head. I position her in front of the scarecrow and say, “Scarecrow, say hello to the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Beth blushes and shakes the scarecrow’s hay-filled hand.
“Pleased to meet you. You are very lovely,” the scarecrow replies and Beth jumps nearly two feet in the air.
“There’s a two-way radio under that bucket. I spent my entire tenth year on this earth trying to figure that out,” I tell her.
She squeezes my hand and says, “That’s so cool. I love learning these things about you.”
I let Beth choose the next stop, and she points out an antique flea market. As we walk along the rows of history, a jewelry table catches her eye. She stops to admire a vintage locket on a long chain. The front of the oval-shaped gold locket is adorned with flowers carved from pink and green stone.
“Can you imagine the craftsmanship that went into carving the stone and then attaching it to the locket? It’s so small but the intricate detailing is incredible,” she says.
I wave the vendor over. “How much?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean…you don’t need to buy it for me!”
“Hush, girl. Is there anything else here that you want?”
She smiles and whispers, “No. Thank you, Daddy.”
I place the locket around her neck. “It’s beautiful, baby.”
We return to the car, and I decide it’s time to prepare her.
“Our next stop is my family.”
“Oh boy. This is a big one.”
“What? Why?”
“Meeting your family. Will they like me?”
“Of course they will, but if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I’m a grown man.”
“What town are we in anyway? I didn’t see a sign.”
“You’ll see the sign when we get there. Believe me, you can’t miss it. I come from a very famous place.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense. Where are you from?”
“A little village called Sleepy Hollow.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Like Washington Irving’s Sleepy Hollow?”
“That’s the place.”
“Will we see the headless horseman?”
“Well, not a real one, but there is a statue of him in the town square.”
“I’m taking your picture with him too.”
I laugh and tell her, “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.”
We pull onto the long, blacktop driveway that leads to my childhood home. It seemed so big then, but as we age, everything around us seems to grow smaller. The white two-story farmhouse with the wrap-around porch sits nestled between two large maple trees. My mother has decorated the bases of the trees with cornstalks and pumpkins to welcome fall.
“This is so nice. I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this with my own garden and a big, fluffy dog,” Beth tells me.
We get out of the car and I hear the screen door open. My sister, Mary rushes off the porch and into my arms. It’s been a while since I last saw her, and I can’t believe how much she’s changed. She looks like a woman now and a beautiful one at that.
“I can’t believe you’re really here! When mom said you were coming, I thought she hit her head and hallucinated it.”
“Come on, it hasn’t been that long.”
“Yes, big brother. It has.” My sister kisses my cheek. “I got engaged last week and you haven’t even met my fiancé!”
“Stop, you’re making me look bad in front of my girl. Besides, you can’t have a fiancé. You’re twelve.”
“See, I told you it’s been a long time. I was twelve twenty years ago.” Mary laughs.
Mary turns her attention to Beth and introduces herself. She takes her arm and leads her into the house with me following closely behind.
“Mom, they’re here,” Mary calls out and my mother rushes from the kitchen.
Beth’s eyes grow wide as she hears her Scottish brogue. She’s spent nearly fifty years in America, and her accent hasn’t faded one bit.
“Mom, this is Beth,” I tell her and she hugs Beth as if she’s known her forever.
I can see the relief wash over my girl. She wasn’t expecting to be greeted so warmly but she’s loving it. “Beth, you’re such a pretty little thing. You’re a living doll, you are.”
“Where’s Pop?” I ask.
“In the shop,” my mother replies. “He’ll be in for lunch soon.”
“Shop?” Beth asks.
“My father builds furniture. I guess I didn’t mention that.”
“I hope you’re hungry,” Mom tells Beth and leads her to the kitchen.
She plates the smoked ham and potatoes she’s prepared for us and sets the warm baked apples and cream on the table. It smells just like my childhood, and my mind is flooded with warm memories. I’m so glad I can share this with Beth. Given what she’s told me about her own childhood, she needs to see that there’s something better.
My father comes through the back door, and his face lights up when he sees me.