Mary Sue Blackwell read the headlines of the local paper. “I swear,” she thought,”the Mississippi humidity makes people crazy.” It was no wonder John Grisham had made a zillion dollars. When it came to stories, there was so much low-hanging fruit in this state.
Her 25-pound tiger cat swished his tail in agreement.
Summer had come early in the Mississippi Delta. The blazing red evening sun dipped below the horizon, giving the earth a chance to recover from the heat. She imagined it making a sizzling sound as it plunged into the Mississippi River. (At least someone was cooling off.) She wiped her forehead as sweat ran down her cleavage. Being beautiful had a whole new meaning in the South. A guy who’d only date a woman who didn’t sweat had unrealistic standards.
The mosquito truck came buzzing by — like that would slow the bird-sized mosquitoes down around here. They probably drank the poison like shots of tequila. Mary Sue heard stories from her mama about kids chasing the DDT trucks back in the day. It was amazing that there weren’t 50-year-olds with a walnut-sized lungs in town. She grabbed her fat tiger cat and went inside before the cloud of bug poison wafted over her porch.
The cold air of the air-conditioned house smacked her in the face as she walked through the old oak door. She almost felt a chill. Almost. Her mama and grandmama had lived in this house. Neither had A/C. She wasn’t as tough as they were. It was installed in 2001. The cat jumped up on the couch in the study and looked out the window. A squirrel had gotten his attention. Not that the squirrel would ever be in any danger from the world’s laziest cat.
Mary Sue walked over to her laptop and opened her e-mail. Her daughter said e-mail was old fashioned, but Mary Sue still liked to check it to see if she heard from anyone.
She hit refresh and a list of new e-mails popped up. DING! Hmm. She had won the Nigerian Lottery again. She forwarded that one to the state of Mississippi; they needed the money worse than her. A male-enhancement drug spam e-mail; it probably wouldn’t do her much good. A couple of credit card offers popped up. It was good to see that junk mail had survived the 21st century. Then she saw the e-mail that made her drop her drink on the floor.
He was back.
He was Jackson Smith.
They had been best friends in first grade at Robert E. Lee Elementary School. In fifth grade, he beat up the bully who had been picking on her. In ninth grade, their relationship changed with a stolen kiss. When she graduated from high school and left for the University, he said that they’d keep in touch. He left for the Army. And then for war. The first casualty was their friendship.
She had gotten married to someone else. So had he. She had lost her husband in a plane crash. His wife had left him after his third tour in Afghanistan.
Now, he was back. And was coming over. Their lives had traveled in a circle and not a straight line.
She imagined him: Tanned, strong and grinning. She imagined him holding her. She imagined things that made her begin to sweat again.
He was coming over! Holy crap! She rushed to clean up, nearly tripping over the cat. But before she could make it to her bathroom, she heard car pull up and a knock on the door. Her eyes begin to water.
A shaking hand fumbled with the door knob as she attempted to throw open the door with all her strength.
What she saw caused her to lose her breath.
There on the front porch stood a man in uniform and on crutches. His chest was covered in medals. His face was covered with burn scars. And his left leg was artificial. Her heart skipped a beat as his mouth opened.
“Hello, Mary Sue.”
At the age of 20, Mary Sue would have been horrified by the man who stood on her porch. But at 40, she knew that love was on the inside. Scars or prosthetic limbs meant nothing to her. She had scars of her own.
And on that hot, humid Delta evening, a fat tiger cat rubbed around the legs of two embracing old friends.
Because when it came to stories, there was so much low-hanging fruit in Mississippi. And when it came to the story of Jackson and Mary Sue, it was love at second sight.
Sweet!
Touching.