Plowed by My Stepfather novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: The Letter

My mother's recipe tin was dented on one corner, and it still smelled of cinnamon.

I carried it to the kitchen table in Dean's flannel shirt and sat down in her chair.

Dean stood at the counter, and he didn't sit.

Under the index cards for rhubarb pie and church-supper meatloaf lay a long white envelope.

It said Gretchen in my mother's round hand.

The M had the loop she had put on every birthday card since I was five.

I opened it.

She had written it in December, on lined paper, and her handwriting wandered toward the end.

Dear Gretchen, it began.

If you're reading this, Dean finally disobeyed me about something else.

I told him not to call you, and I expect he did anyway.

I laughed, and the laugh broke in the middle.

I'm not sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted you to remember me with my hair.

I wanted you to stay in Des Moines and be young. That was my mistake and not yours, so don't carry it.

The note is mine too. I took it after the drought, and I should have told you.

You'd have sold the farm to pay it, and I'd have died angry.

Don't sell to Orrin. He's been kind to me for forty years, and he's never been kind in a way that didn't cost somebody else.

I put my hand over my mouth and read on.

Now the part I'm only writing because I won't be there to say it.

I know about the August. Dean told me himself, the week after, because he's a terrible liar and a good man.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Plowed by My Stepfather from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.