Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970)
Read Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) Online
Authors: Sarah Anderson
Tags: #romance, #love, #god, #humor, #inspirational, #young adult, #teen, #best friends, #purpose, #ya, #second chances, #teen romance, #sarah anderson, #sarah dzuris, #southern belles
Southern Belles
A Novel about Love, Purpose & Second Chances
Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Anderson
Cover models: Natasha Dembinski, Whitney Ostyn
Cover photograph: Katie Hess
Cover Design by Amy Guilford
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review and
as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any
form or by any means without the prior written permission from the
author. Thank you for respecting the integrity of this author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are
fictitious. Any similarity to real persons living or dead and
events are purely coincidental and are not intended by the
author.
Chapter 1 - Best Friends,
Dreams, & Promises
Chapter 2 - Goodbye High School
Chapter 3 - Oh the Places You Will Go
Chapter 5 - The First Day of the Rest of Our
Lives
Chapter 8 - Thanksgiving with The
Buchanan’s
Chapter 9 - Christmas Surprises
Chapter 10 - An Order of Mass and Fries
Please
Chapter 11 - If the Apron Fits
Chapter 12 - Southern Women and Their
Tea
Chapter 14 - Lucy Grace and a Side of
Grits
Chapter 16 - The Good Ole Days are Here
Again
Chapter 20 - Love, Georgia Style
Chapter 23 - Puppies & Butterflies
Chapter 1: Best Friends, Dreams &
Promises
Growing
up my momma always use to say, “You have the power to change your
fate.” I had never really paid attention when she said this because
I felt it was her way of telling me that I must be messing
something up. It’s not that she’s some kind of control freak or
even a perfectionist, just the opposite actually. She’s the kind of
mom that is whole-heartedly good; almost perfect. It wasn’t until
years later that I realized the magnitude of that often used
phrase. When you’re young and the world is your oyster; nothing is
off limits. It’s as if the whole world is rooting for you to win—to
grab your dreams by the wheel and throw them into drive. Sometimes
though, after a few blows to your pride and a loss of direction,
it’s easy to become jaded. Maybe the right word is hopeless. I
hadn’t realized that one choice I made had led me to believe my
life, my dreams, and the chance of ever being truly happy was over.
Not until I had sat around feeling sorry for myself, for what
seemed like forever, had I suddenly become aware of the truth
behind my mother’s words. From a very early age I knew I was
destined to be a writer; an inspirer for a life fully lived, but
for a while, I believed that because of one fateful night my future
would never amount to the dreams that kept me up at night, planning
the many places I would visit and write award-winning stories
about. What I learned when I finally came out of the darkness that
ensnared my mind is that although I had made a mistake, that would
forever change my fate, I, nor the effects of my mistake, defined
me or closed the door to my dreams. I found that God still believed
in me and was giving me the opportunity to take the choices I made
and turn them into a masterpiece about two best friends, second
chances, and finding that once-in-a-lifetime love.
Before I can tell you that story though, I
have to go back to the beginning, not to the day I was born
beginning, but to fifth grade, the day my best friend and I met
Eric Sothersby and made a life-long pact.
It was a typical warm spring morning in
beautiful St. Marys, Georgia, where I, along with the three prior
generations of the Buchanan family, grew up, farming. Like every
other weekday morning I was rushing to get to the locker first
because my best friend, who was notoriously late, and which drove
her mother mad, would hog the mirror putting on the finishing
touches of her face. Since, I wasn’t allowed to wear make-up yet; I
would try to get there first to have control of the mirror so I
could put on my make-up. Make-up—which my father would have washed
off my face with a little spit and the palm of his hand had he
spotted the slightest bit of color from my demeanor. Oh, yes, I
know this because it happened one morning while I was waiting for
the bus. I thought I had been sneaky and kept my face hidden from
him, starring in the window opposite his direction while sitting in
his truck, waiting for the bus. Right as the bus roared up, I
turned to kiss him goodbye and lo did he catch my arm, look at me
with his furrowed brow and with speed-lighting swiftness lick his
hand and smear off the rouge that colored my cheeks and lips. Not
only had I ended up with slobber draped all over my face, and
blotches of color—all the kids on the bus got a front-row seat to
this horrifying event.
So, as usual, I was putting my things away
in the locker, on this peaceful May morning, when CeCe surprised me
by showing up earlier than usual. She said she woke up feeling
lucky that morning and wanted to get to school. Looking back, I’m
not sure if it was some sort of sixth sense of hers knowing
something good was about to happen or if it was just her ‘take life
by the reins and get going’ attitude that could be summed up as
CeCe’s mantra.
“Good morning girlfriend” CeCe said in a
quirky and bright manner, “I think you need more blue eye shadow
Char.”
“CeCe, I haven’t even put any make-up on
yet,” I explained, frowning slightly.
“Oh, I just thought maybe you put it on too
light- or is that a vein?”
“No, CeCe, I just got here. I haven’t had a
chance to put any make-up on. Besides, what are you doing here so
early?”
“It’s early?” CeCe questioned, with a faint
smile on her face.
“For you, it’s early.”
“Oh, well, I woke up this morning and not
only was my mom not nagging me, but the sun was shining on my face…
almost begging me to wake up and get to school.”
“That’s interesting but I have to finish
putting on my make-up before the bell rings.”
“Char, hurry up, Okay? I still have to spray
my hair up another inch.”
“CeCe, it’s already like three inches high!
If you spray it up anymore, you’re going to fly away.”
“Okay Char—move out of the way so I can get
in there real quick while you’re jabbering,” CeCe said with a
little push into my side.
“What are you doing CeCe? I need more
mirror, I can’t go into class without my face on,” I retorted as I
nudged her back.
And all of a sudden while warring over the
mirror, I saw the reflection of what looked like a beautiful yet
unfamiliar face, directly behind me.
“CeCe stop!” I whispered with both eyebrows
raised. “Look behind you. No, don’t turn around-look in the
mirror.”
“There’s a new boy standing at the locker
with Mrs. Newwater. And, he’s really cute!”
“Move a little so I can take a better look,”
CeCe whispered back, as if we were in the library.
“I wonder if he’s in our class.”
“Good gravy, look at his dimples!” CeCe said
with a smile overwhelming her entire face.
“Think good thoughts CeCe, you don’t want to
have to visit Father John, you spent most of last week in
confessional.”
“I wasn’t in confessional most of last
week—that was the week before!”
“Okay, the bell is going to ring any minute.
I just need to put some color on my cheeks and lips—the rest can be
natural.” I said, while quickly dabbing and rubbing Magenta Smile
on my cheeks and lips, just as the bell went off.
“Let’s go Char; I guess my hair will be
okay.”
Rushing in behind CeCe to my seat before the
second bell rang I caught sight of the new kid standing next to
Mrs. Newwater by her desk, out of my peripheral vision. I couldn’t
help but feel a twinge of excitement shoot up from my stomach,
wondering where he came from and what he was about. Jumping into my
chair, with CeCe sitting right behind me in her assigned seat, I
threw my books onto my desk. I was never happier to hear the sound
of the second bell going off as I knew Mrs. Newwater would soon be
introducing the new kid to the class. Not only did I want to hear
where he was from but also I knew from past experiences that Mrs.
Newwater was going to ask for a volunteer to show him around for
the day and introduce him to other students. So, I waited,
patiently, or impatiently, for what seemed like way too long for
the rest of my peers to finally get situated in their seats.
“Class, class, quickly get in your seats. We
have a lot to get done today and we have a new student I would like
to introduce to you,” declared Mrs. Newwater, in a serious
manner.
“Students, this is Eric Sothersby. Please
extend your warmest welcome. He is coming to us from the great
state of Michigan, where it’s a bit colder. He and his family left
most of their family there to move here and expand their insurance
business. So, he will need some nice new friends to help him adjust
to this big move,” explained Mrs. Newwater.
As soon as she finished saying this, I had
my hand sitting on my desk waiting to raise it the minute she asked
for
the
volunteer. Like a game-show contestant, with my hand
on the buzzer waiting to push it with the winning answer, I was
ready to go to Disney World.
“Okay ladies and gentlemen, I would like one
volunteer to show Eric Sothersby around today and help him feel at
home here,” Mrs. Newwater said in a sweet southern twang.
Right as I towered my hand in the air, to
rise above the other quickly lifted hands of volunteers, I felt a
strong tug on my hair, flipping my head abruptly up towards the
ceiling.
“Char,” CeCe whispered in a determined
voice, “put your hand down—I really want to show this kid around. I
feel something special about him. And I know that if you keep your
hand up Mrs. Newwater will pick you because you’re her favorite.
Please, please Char!”
Now CeCe was right. I was Mrs. Newwater’s
favorite but that was probably because I never gave her any sass
and I always did my homework, helped others, and came to class on
time. My parents had taught me from a very early age to work hard
at everything you do. As farmers, you have to work hard or you’ll
starve to death…and my mom was one of the Kindergarten teachers at
our school, so I had to do well as she had lots of eyes on me and
my brothers growing up. CeCe, however, had always been the handful.
With a whole lot of sass, an abundance of style, and a dash of
humor, CeCe was given everything she wanted as an only child,
making her a bit more challenging to deal with when she made up her
mind about something.
“CeCe, take your hand off my hair,” I
whispered back in a squeaky voice, trying not to make any more of a
scene.
“I promise Char, if you let me show Eric
around I’ll let you have the next perfect guy,” CeCe said with all
sincerity and hope.
Just as I caught Mrs. Newwater eying me,
with one hand on Eric’s shoulder, and the other hand beginning to
raise and point, I took a quick, deep breath.
“Okay CeCe, quit grabbing my hair, you can
have him. But the next Prince Charming is mine,” I said as I
lowered my hand back to the desk.
“Thank you, thank you Char.”
With a quizzical look on her face and her
hand pointing in our direction, Mrs. Newwater glanced at me again.
This time, with a tilt of her head side-to-side, she announced that
Cecilia Crawford would be showing Eric Sothersby around today and
to “please give him the warmest welcome as you pass by him,
class”.
I quickly turned around to see a mixture of
both satisfaction and victory dancing all over CeCe’s face. I could
see that she was elated, almost enough to wonder what she had
dreamed up in her full-of-ideas mind.
“Char, thank you so much,” CeCe mouthed to
me when I turned around.
“CeCe, you owe me big time, I thought he was
cute too and besides you better be nice to him and not scare
him.”
