FanStory.com - Bessieby davisr (Rhonda)

Background
Years after a fire took her parents lives and devastated her home, Echo works at a small town newspaper as an investigative reporter. Very soon, her past and present are destined to collide.

Summary of the book so far:

Young Echo Jones is overlooked by First Responders as she hides in a wheat field during a house fire. Both parents presumed dead, she escapes into an ancient forest behind her home. Alone and afraid, she meets up with a young boy from mysterious origins that tends to her while searching for help.

20 years later, Echo is working for a newspaper called the Taylorville Sun. Among other duties, she investigates a serial killer who has now struck in her small town, and covers the opening of a new mega-store, Super Handyman.

End of last chapter:

Had Sara Beth been closer to the truth than she wanted to admit? Could the memory of a boy so perfect and complete keep her from finding another man who lived up to his memory? And why was she able to remember his face when she could barely remember her own parents'?

"This is silly," she said aloud. "I've got a real job with a real task ahead of me. I've got to get to Bessie Johnson's to interview her about the body she found. Real, real, real...."
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By the time she pulled into Bessie's driveway, she had decided to let go of the past and embrace her future. She planned to stop measuring every man she met against an old memory, whether she believed it real or not.

Deep green eyes, a kind smile, an ability to take over and protect a total stranger, even the ability to make toys like a master toymaker, were all to be put away. Nodding with self-satisfaction, Echo parked her car in a very neatly kept driveway and got out.

New Chapter:

"Come in here, child, or you'll catch your death of cold."

A rather large, gray haired woman stood on the door stoop of a double wide mobile home. One beefy arm held open a metal door and the other motioned inward.

"I'm coming, Bessie." Echo waved as she shrugged into her coat, then hustled toward the welcoming home of the oldest member of the Taylorville Sun family.

"I was wondering when you were finally going to get here." Bessie gave her a bear hug that made Echo wonder if a rib or two had cracked. "You know I have the list of ads I've collected this week for the paper."

"I know, I'm sorry. I was held up covering the opening of Super Handyman."

"Yeah, how'd that go?"

"Not bad for wandering around a crowded hardware store," Echo said.

She paused in the foyer and looked around the softly lit living area before her. It was adorned in resplendent holiday decor. A huge evergreen tree stood proudly against the southern wall, tucked into a place that seemed reserved for it all year. Decorations, most of which seemed made by children and grandchildren, hugged it in a yuletide embrace.

Every inch of the room bore silver and gold garland, or bits of greenery, smelling of a mixture of evergreen and spiced apple. Christmas was definitely Bessie's thing. Echo hung her coat on the coatrack in the corner and followed Bessie into the kitchen.

"Did you get enough for your article?" Bessie asked.

"Plenty."

"Good, then I can read about it in the paper, because I'm sure not going in there."

"Why not?"

"Girl child, I gave birth to six boys and if something around here breaks, and not one of them can show up to help their 83-year-old mama, they're off my Christmas list, and they know they don't want that to happen."

Echo chuckled. Bessie's Christmas parties and gifts were legendary. "You've got a point, but you know you could have emailed those ads to Claude. He brought you a laptop over here and I've shown you how to use it several times."

Bessie rolled her eyes dramatically and motioned Echo to a seat at the table.

"I've been delivering these ads by hand for over fifty years. I see no reason to change just because Claude bought some new fangled toy. You'll take them in for me, won't you, sweetheart?"

"Of course, Bessie. I always do."

"Good, now, have you eaten lunch? I have some left-over beans and cornbread from last night. It won't take a minute to reheat."

"No, thank you, I'm on a diet."

Echo realized, before the words left her mouth, that she'd slipped up. She braced herself for the onslaught.

"A diet?" Bessie spat the words out like she'd just taken a bite out of a rat's tail. "Why would you want to do that? You're practically a skeleton now. Look at that pretty red dress you're wearing. It's practically hanging off of you."

"Bessie, I wish that was true." she sighed as she let her sentence trail off.

"Now you listen here, young lady...." Bessie pulled a cast iron skillet from a lower cabinet, threw some beans in from the fridge, added half a slab of bacon, and continued without missing a beat. "...skipping meals has never helped anyone.

"Girls think they have to be bone thin for a man to desire them. They have no idea how wrong they are. A man wants a soft woman to cuddle and a strong woman to bear his children. He doesn't want some puny bag of bones he has to constantly take to the doctor. Now you let Bessie make you some decent food, and then we'll talk about the main reason you really came here."

Echo smiled to herself. She remembered Claude's advice before she visited Bessie for the first time.

"Be careful what you say to her, that sweet old bat is smarter than a snake and strikes twice as fast."

He was right. Knowing Echo had come for more than the ads, Bessie was planning to get what she wanted before telling what she knew about the night the body was found. In Georgia there were two very strict rules: you never argue with your elders, and you never, ever refuse offered food. Bessie had both on her side.

"Thank you, I'd love some lunch."

"How do you want your grits today," Bessie asked, "with or without cheese?"

"Grits? I thought it was just left over beans and cornbread."

Bessie looked sideways at her. "Grits can go with all meals, you know that."

Echo gave up. "I'll take them with sugar and butter."

For a while, the only sounds heard were those of pots and pans rattling and the scraping of spoons on metal. Echo watched as the older woman added turnip greens and fried okra to the growing stack of food warming on the stove.

"How's your kitty?" Bessie asked in the middle of stirring. "You used to bring him with you when you came to visit. What's his name, Moonbeam?"

"Kitty Sunshine, but I call him Sunny," Echo said, "and he's doing great, thank you. I didn't want to leave him in the car while I went to the Grand Opening."

"Well, good, good. What kind of cat did you say he is?"

"Russian Blue."

"Well, whatever country he's from, he has a nice color."

"He's from here, Bessie. That's just the name of his breed. They were originally bred in Russia."

Bessie nodded and placed a plate brimming over with food on the table in front of Echo. "I prefer Persians, myself, or at least I did before I developed allergies."

"I hear there's a hairless cat you can get that won't make you sneeze. They're a bit odd looking, but they're supposed to make good pets."

"I'll keep that in mind, honey, but when you're my age, you don't have time for things like you did when you were a young'un."

"Oh please, Bessie, remember I go shopping with you. I wear out hours before you do."

"Entirely my point, dear, that's why you need to eat more."

"Okay, I'm throwing in the towel."

"About time. How's the food?"

"Absolutely brilliant, as always."

Bessie filled another plate for herself and joined Echo at the table. Echo suspected that wasn't the first lunch plate she'd had that day.

For just a moment, Echo was able to escape her worries and responsibilities as she ate and enjoyed good company. She even forgot about her diet. No problem, she had only started it that morning.

Finally, when the dishes were cleared away, Bessie slapped her hands together definitively.

"Okay, that's taken care of. Why don't you come sit with me in the living room where we can talk?"

"I'd love to." Echo left off the word, finally, that she definitely thought.

She rose to her feet and followed her hostess. It was obvious that enough ritual had been observed to allow Bessie to share her story.