Thursday, March 25, 2021

An original short story: Rome

I wrote this lighthearted tale a couple years ago. Hope you enjoy.

Rome by Patty Panni

“James Thomas Lee, if you don’t get your butt out here right now, you are gonna regret it!” I hollered through the screen door.

“Geez, mom, I’m coming.” My 13-year-old son huffed past me and jumped in my ancient pickup, where he had the nerve to look at me and tap an invisible watch on his wrist.

“Dear God, give me strength,” I muttered, locking the front door, “because if You don’t, I’m fixin’ to break Commandment Number 5, right here and now.”

With only two minutes to go, I dropped off my red-headed mini me at school with an admonition to “pay attention and learn something...and don’t sass the teacher!”

I stopped for coffee at the Dixie Gas-n-Go, before heading to my job as Administrator of the North Georgia Convalescent Center, a 52-bed nursing facility.

“Good morning, Jess,” called out one of the nurses as I came in.

“Mornin’, Sheila. Anything going on I should know about?”

“So far, so good. All quiet on the home front.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. That girl does love her a cliché. In my office, I surveyed the stack of files on my desk. It was my practice each morning to review all nursing notes from the previous night. I liked knowing how our patients were doing, and it kept the nurses on their toes. That done, I moved on to other work and didn’t look up again until I heard a familiar knock.

Graham Bartholomew appeared at my door. “Hey, Darlin’ – how ‘bout I take a pretty girl to lunch?”

“Sounds great. When you find one, let me know and I’ll come along too. I’m starving.” Ignoring my lame attempt at humor, Graham extended his arm and escorted me out to his car. He headed to Lulu’s Café, home of the best meat and three in town, and one of our favorite lunch spots.

Graham is a lawyer with an office right across the street from the courthouse. We’ve been keeping company, I guess you could say, for a couple years now. We actually grew up together, lost touch when I moved away, then reconnected when I moved back to care for my father in his last days. Graham is the one person I’ve trusted with my secret: I have applied for a hospital administrator position in Atlanta. It’s not easy keeping a secret in Rome, Georgia. Somebody’s mama always knows somebody else’s cousin…and things just have a way of getting out. People say Rome runs on gossip and sweet tea.

“Heard anything yet?” he asked as we settled into a booth at Lulu’s, waving off the offer of menus. We both know the menu by heart.

“No, and it’s been weeks. I might as well face it; I didn’t get the job. It was a stupid idea—"

“Now, hold on. You don’t know that yet. First, they’d be crazy to not want you. Second, these things take time. They have to go through all the candidates, check references…it’s a process.” How does that man always know the right words to make me feel better?

“Anyway, I still don’t understand why you want to go to Atlanta. It’s hot and crowded, and the traffic…Jess, I really wish you’d reconsider.”

“Graham, I’ve told you a hundred times, I’ve got to think about the future. In a few years James Thomas will be going to college and Lord knows he’s not gonna get much of a scholarship with his grades, and—” I stopped and looked around, suddenly aware of my voice, which can go from zero to sixty in a heartbeat when I get worked up. Luckily, everyone around us was tucking into their chicken and dumplings and didn’t appear to be paying me any mind.

“Anyway,” I continued in a quieter tone, “I need to do everything possible to give James Thomas the best future I can.”

Graham didn’t reply. He just looked at me for a beat, and then we both tucked into our own chicken and dumplings.

Late that afternoon I headed home, thinking about fast and easy dinner options. For a boy who ate like a grizzly bear heading into winter, James Thomas had some strong opinions about my cooking. Wondering if I could get away with fish sticks and mac & cheese a second night this week, I parked in front of the house.

James Thomas was in the den playing on (surprise, surprise) his phone. “Hey kiddo, how was school?”

“It was okay.” I kissed my son’s head on my way into the kitchen. And there, on the kitchen table, was a letter from the Atlanta hospital. My heart skipped a beat.

“Oh yeah, mom, Graham called. He’s coming over.”

“Umm, okay,” I said absentmindedly, sitting down in front of the letter. But no sooner had I put my hand on it, when there was a knock at the back door. I looked up to see Graham and motioned for him to come in.

“Hey Jess, I wanted to—” Graham began, but stopped when he saw my face. “Jess?”

I raised the letter so he could see it.

“Oh.” He looked at me and swallowed. I watched his Adam’s apple bob down and up. “What does it say?”

“I…I haven’t opened it yet.” I giggled, an obnoxious nervous habit I’ve had since childhood.

“Well, don’t. Don’t open it, Jess,” he said quickly.

“What? Why ever not?” I began, but Graham interrupted me.

“Jess, you’re a strong woman. You haven’t had it easy as a single mother, but you’ve always done whatever was necessary to make a good home for James Thomas. You’re a great mother.” He paused, and I looked at him, pleasantly surprised at his words.

“You’re also a headstrong, stubborn, aggravating woman—”

I felt my eyebrows lower.

“But…you’re a headstrong, stubborn, aggravating woman that I don’t want to live without – can’t live without.”

Eyebrows back up, way up.

“So, I want to ask you—" His chair scraped as he stood up, then knelt on one knee before me. “I want to ask you, Jessica Margaret Lee, if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.” He fumbled in his pocket and took out a beautiful ring. “This was my mother’s. She gave it to me before she died and asked that I give it to my wife.”

For once in my life, I was completely speechless. And, even though I am not a crier, my eyes filled with tears.

“Jess, you have to know how much I love you and James Thomas,” Graham continued tenderly. “I would do anything for you. I really, really want y’all to stay in Rome, but if you decide Atlanta’s where you belong, then I’m willing to relocate my practice there. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Suddenly, the elusive future I’d been trying to envision was crystal clear and absolutely perfect. Without breaking my gaze from Graham, I picked up the envelope and tore it in two, completely dazzled by the look on his face, and smiling what felt like the biggest, goofiest smile ever.

“James Thomas,” I hollered. “Come here quick. Graham’s got a question for us.”

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