Page 18 of Endless Southern Love

Goldie stops rocking and picks up her drink. “Can we make the kind of tea Ms. Linda does?”

Ms. Linda sets hers out in the morning and let’s nature do its thing. “Sure, but not tomorrow.”

“How come?”

“I have to get up really early and head over to your school.”

“Why?”

“Well because the fifth-grade class is going to plant a garden and I need to dig up the ground for them. But it’s going to be early, so Grandma will be here when you wake up.” I’m very thankful my parents are close and my mom’s willing to drop everything for Goldie.

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“Do you want to be up before the sun?”

Goldie shakes her head slowly. “No thanks.”

“Same, but it’s either I go in early, or I won’t get home until late tonight. I’d much rather spend this time with you instead of digging holes.”

Her lips lift and then turn into a full-blown smile.

“You’re my best girl, right?”

She nods and continues to smile.

The sound of a motorboat catches my attention, I look out toward the river and see Connie Lincoln coming around the bend. I look down at my watch and frown at the time. He’s way later than normal.

“Hey Connie,” I say as I walk toward him. “Late night?”

“Late all around,” he says as he hands me my mail. We are one of the last towns in the country to still have mail delivery by boat. Men like Connie are a dying breed. Everyone wants to drive or have you pick your mail up at the post office.

“Sorry to hear that. Have yourself a good night.”

“You too, Wade. Tell Miss Goldie I said hello.”

“Hi, Connie,” Goldie yells from the porch and waves her arm back and forth. Connie waves back and then motors toward my neighbors mailbox.

“How come you don’t drive a boat?” Goldie asks when I sit back down.

“Because I drive a truck.” I point toward my truck with the trailer attached to it. “And I think it would be funny if I showed up to mow someone’s lawn in a boat.”

Goldie laughs. “It would be very funny.”

We stay on the porch for another thirty minutes and then head inside. Goldie heads to take a shower while I start a load of laundry. Before she moved in with me, I would do laundry every couple of days, but now it seems like it’s an everyday, twice on Sunday’s sort of thing. I’m not complaining because I love having my daughter here but damn my chore list has increased. Between this and grocery shopping, it’s endless.

“Everything good?” I ask, knocking on the bathroom door. Goldie’s at the age where she doesn’t need her dad hovering. I know Ana does, but it’s not something I can get on board with. I press my ear to the door and smile when I hear the shower curtain move.

“Yep,” she yells loudly, through the rush of water.

“Did you get the shampoo out of your hair?”

“Yep,” she says again.

I’m not well versed when it comes to curly hair and rely heavily on Ana and Alani’s guidance. Having a salon to turn to when Ana isn’t available is a godsend.

“And what about your feet, toes, pitters?”

Goldie laughs. “Yes, Dad. I got everything.”

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