I hate having my picture taken.  I always have.  But I decided it was time to have a professional photograph done, so I set the appointment up.  And then I set up another for hair and makeup.

Did I mention that I also don’t like makeup?  It’s always felt like an uncomfortable mask, so I’ve never gotten particularly skilled at using it.  I figured a professional application would give me the best shot at taking a passable picture.  If that’s even possible.  I made peace with the fact that I’ll never be a raving beauty a long time ago.  No, I’m not fishing here, just stating a fact.  Ninety-five percent of my beauty is the most important kind anyway…it’s on the inside.

And I’m okay with that.  Except when it’s time to say cheese.  I always look better in a mirror than I do on film.

So I’m sitting there while the stylist is doing my hair, trying to stay awake…because I was  extremely stressed over this ordeal and didn’t get a whole lot of sleep.  Plus I’ve always felt very relaxed while having my hair brushed, so that didn’t help.  But all good things must come to an end and the moment arrived.  She started applying the makeup.

I had visions of walking out of the shop completely transformed, and heading off to the photographers to sit for a picture I was sure to love for a change.

Guess I should have known when the woman warned me that it might take awhile to get used to.  Since I wasn’t in the habit of wearing any makeup at all, it might look a little different.

Before I say anything else, this young lady did a superb job of applying all of her products.  Still, when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, all I could think is, “Oh my God.  I could audition for the dead body in a funeral scene.”  I think it was because she put eye liner on, and darkened my eyebrows (because the camera likes that, I guess).  It made the rest of the makeup appear a little pale.  She and my daughter kept assuring me that I looked really nice.  I just kind of thought I resembled the faces of people I’d seen lying in caskets.

To make matters worse, I was having the pictures done in another town and thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.  My glasses needed adjusting and that’s where I travel to in order to see my eye doctor.  I was so mortified by the makeup that I walked into the office hoping no one would look at me at all.  Kind of stupid, I know, since I had to check in at the front desk and deal with a technician.  And of course you just have to know my doctor was not with a patient.  All I  wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide.

The funny thing is, I think I will get a decent picture out of it.  At least it looked that way in the little two inch screen on the photographer’s camera.  It only took about fifty shots to get it… Anyway, I’ll see the proofs in a couple of days.  Here’s hoping for the best.

At least I don’t have to worry about looking like Frankenstein. Maybe.

No I did not make my bed today.  In fact, I don’t even remember getting from my bed to the office…but obviously I had the presence of mind to fling the comforter over the pillows.  Anyway, I walked into my bedroom awhile ago and this is what I found.  Lil Dude (Dude) with his back leg flung over sister Oreo’s back, and Jasper laying there facing away from them both.  So I HAD to snap a picture.  🙂

And now for the final installment…

“I know my grandchildren just fine.”

Brett’s kids. Her brother was still the only member of her family that understood the choice she’d made. The only one she’d been able to maintain a close relationship with. The only one who tried to defend her. Not that it helped. In fact it only made life harder on him, and Evie had eventually asked that he stop trying.

“You don’t know my kids, Mom.”

“And I don’t intend to,” she said harshly. “When my other children get married and start families of their own, I’ll have more. But until then, I only have three.” Hers made it a total of five, but unless the situation changed, they would never know this grandmother.

“How do you sleep at night, Mom?”

“Very well, thank you. How do you sleep knowing you married the son of the man who killed your sister?”

“Doug didn’t kill her. It was an accident. A blown tire, Mom. And he has lived with the guilt of it all this time. It wasn’t his fault. Heidi was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Are you finished here?”

Evie looked for any sign of softening in the woman she so resembled and saw none. Only the bitterness and hatred she’d clung to like a life preserver since that day so long ago.

She turned her gaze again to the pink headstone. It glittered in the sunlight, the sparkles looking almost cheerful. Heidi had only lived until a few days after her fourteenth birthday. A headstone shouldn’t look pretty. Only things that were good should be pretty. Evie’s heart hurt. She missed her sister.  She missed the rest of her family.

“Yes. I‘m finished here,” she whispered, forcing her gaze back to her mother. “If you ever change your mind, Brett knows how to get in touch with me.”

“I won’t.”

Unable to respond past the lump in her throat, she turned and started walking up the hill toward her family.

“Don’t bother coming back for my funeral,” Maddie called after her. “I don’t want you there.”

Her eyes were brimming with tears as she reached Jess. His smile was sad as he pulled her into his arms, gently kissing her hair. He told the kids to go ahead and go back to the car and to wait for them there.

“Is Mom okay?” ten year old Spencer asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Evie assured him quickly.

“Who is that lady, Mama?” Heidi Anne wanted to know.

“It’s Mom’s mother, you dope,” Spencer hissed, grabbing his sister’s arm and dragging her toward the car.

“Then isn’t she our grandma?”

“No.”

“But if she’s Mom’s mom, then-”

“Shut up, Heidi Anne. Do you want to make Mom cry some more?”

“But-”

Evie couldn’t hear any more of the conversation after that. She sighed and said,

“I should go and talk to them. Explain it so they understand.”

“We can do that when we get back to the hotel.”

“But Heidi Anne-”

“Hasn’t known about the situation for eight years. Another half-hour or so isn’t going to make a difference.”

“I guess you’re right.”

They just stood quietly for several long moments. As always she drew comfort from husband, and appreciated him more than ever.

“Evie, I am so sorry about all of this,” Jess murmured softly. “I’d hoped that after all this time-after losing Abe now, that maybe she‘d see what she was missing without you in her life.”

“I know. I’d hoped for that, too. But it’s okay. She’s made her choice.” Again.

And it hurt. Evie thought it probably always would. The only thing she could do was be willing to mend fences if her mother relented and decided to forgive her. Not that she felt she’d done anything requiring forgiveness. But she loved her mother enough to put the past aside if the opportunity ever arose to do so.

At least she had her big brother. And he’d hinted that a couple of their other siblings were beginning to soften just a bit. In fact, Brett and their sister were meeting her in the lounge at the hotel later for coffee and to talk. It was enough for now.

“Let’s go,” she sighed, smiling up at Jess. She started to pull away from him for the short walk to the car but he held her firmly in place, a question in his eyes.

“Evie?”

“What?”

“Have you ever been sorry that- You know. That you and I-”

“Not even once.”

Yes, it’s another Saturday post, but I just can’t help it this time!  I was reading a book on my Kindle and wanted to get an idea of how long it would be so I thought, why not go to Amazon and see how big this file is compared to Enza’s?  Much to my surprise, given that it’s not even released for sale yet, there was a review!   I can only assume that it’s from one of the reviewers on the blog tour, but I’m flying really high right now!  Especially because this particular reviewer seems to have written well over 150 other reviews.

And yes, I admit again (because I just admitted it when I shared it on Facebook)…I am bragging.  I am just so happy I could dance.  And trust me, I cannot dance.  If you want to check it out…just scroll down the page a bit and you’ll see it.  My first 5-star review for Enza.

That cup of coffee led to many more. Always on the sly because, although Evie had assured Jess that her parents would come around, they seemed to get angrier with each passing day.

And she knew that they would never approve of her friendship with Jess the day her mother came home from the grocery store fuming because she’d seen the wife of ‘the murderer.’ How dare she show her face in public after what her husband had done to their family?

She knew they wouldn’t approve of her falling in love with him either. But she had. Deeply, passionately-with the son of her parents most hated ‘enemy.’

When Jess proposed, Evie hoped that maybe their love could be the catalyst to healing between their families. But it only served to exacerbate the hostility the Elliston’s harbored toward the Monroe’s. So much so that Evie’s parents gave her a choice.

Them or Jess.

Two of her brothers and her only other sister joined forces with them, leaving only Brett, her oldest brother, on her side. And Evie was brokenhearted. She couldn’t give up her family. But she couldn’t bear to give up the love of her life either.

She and Brett discussed the situation for hours and they both believed that, eventually, the rest of the family would come around. They loved Evie, after all, and they’d already lost one daughter. They wouldn’t want to lose another.

And so Evie made her choice, crying as her brother walked her down the aisle on her wedding day, the only guests being Jess’ family, a couple of cousins and a few friends.

Her parents still hadn’t forgiven her when Spencer, was born two years later. Or when Heidi Anne came along two years after that. And when Evie tried to call her father, in the hospital and dying of cancer, just a few days before his death, he’d hung up on her.

Apparently he would take his hatred of her with him into eternity.

“I wondered if you’d have the nerve to show up,” Maddy Elliston said quietly, from somewhere behind her. Evie turned and had to steel herself against the coldness in her mother’s eyes.

‘I slipped in the back of the church for the service,” she explained softly. “Then I waited to say good-bye until after everyone else had gone back for the dinner.”

“You said your good-byes twelve years ago. He didn‘t want you here.”

“Mom-”

“Don’t start, Evie. You made your choice. You chose him instead of us.” She nodded her head toward the tree where Jess stood waiting with the kids.

“I shouldn’t have had to choose, Mom. I should have been able to marry the man I fell in love with. With your blessings. Yours and Dad’s.”

“You knew how we felt about him.”

“But he didn’t do anything!”

“I’m not going to argue about it. What’s done is done.”

“And you’re never going to forgive me for it, are you?”

“No. Your father wouldn’t and I can’t.”

“What you mean is that you won’t. Because you could if you wanted to.”

“I mean it, Evie. Finish saying your good-byes so I can sit with my husband for a while.”

“Don’t you ever miss not knowing your grandchildren?”

Nearly twenty-one at the time, Evie’s heart broke at the loss. But it was the agony it caused her parents that hurt the most. Especially when the judge, presiding over the civil case the Elliston’s brought against the driver of the car, ruled that it was exactly what the police had called it. An accident. A driver could not be held responsible for a defect in a tire. Even if a young girl had lost her life because of it.

Her parents were shattered. And angry. And in the hall outside the courtroom, even as Douglas Monroe sobbed and begged their forgiveness, her parents shouted at him that he was a monster and had murdered their precious baby. For once, Evie’s sympathy shifted to the Monroe family, standing there, presenting a rather pitiful, but united, front. Mr. Monroe, his wife and their eldest son. She could see that the tragedy had taken its toll on them, too.

And later that afternoon, after the doctor had made an uncharacteristic house call to administer mild sedatives, Evie did something that would have hurt her sleeping parents even more.  She drove to the Monroe house and, after only the slightest hesitation, walked up to their front door and knocked.

It was the son who answered the door. From his stunned expression, Evie knew he recognized her. She watched as he braced himself, as though expecting her to slap him.

“I just wanted to tell you that I am so sorry for what my parents said today,” she told him softly, surprising him even more.

“You‘re sorry?” he asked, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Yes. Your father didn’t do anything to cause Heidi’s death and I wanted you to know that I don’t blame him. And he shouldn’t blame himself either.”

“He wanted to kill himself the first few days after it happened,” the young man whispered.

“You have to believe me, I‘m glad he didn‘t… I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Jesse. Jess.” He blushed to his hairline. “I mean I go by Jess.”

“Jess, I promise you, my parents know that it wasn’t his fault. Deep down they do. They’re just hurting too much to admit it right now. I think it helps them to be angry at someone, and your father is the obvious target.”

“My family understands what they’re going through,” Jess had told her. He smiled a sad smile. “No, I guess we don’t really understand.” Pausing to think for a moment he admitted, “I don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding like an insincere platitude.”

“I know what you mean,” she assured him, smiling as best she could manage. Which wasn’t a lot. “Well. I suppose I should be going now. I just worried that your dad might- You know. Take it to heart. Can you tell him that they will be okay with it someday?”

“Sure. Thanks for telling me, Evie.” Evie remembered staring up at him in surprise. She hadn’t introduced herself. Seeming to realize that, Jess told her, “We know everyone in your family. We’ve been praying for all of you since the accident.”

“Thank you. I hope you’ll keep doing it because I think we’ll need all the help we can get for a long time.”

“We will.” As she turned to go, he said, “Evie?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to go get a cup of coffee with me? So we can talk a little more.”

Last June I posted a short-story I wrote awhile back.   It’s long enough that I broke it down into four parts, and I’ll do the same this time.

***

Evie stood, staring down at the fresh mound of dirt covering the grave. She was grateful for the numbness that had come over her once the initial onslaught of grief had passed. And she hoped it would continue to shield her from the worst of it for some time to come because, frankly, it just hurt too much to deal with right now.

When the last of the mourners headed back to the fellowship hall at the church where the service had been held, she finally had some time alone with him.

As she glanced at the little metal marker, which proclaimed, Albert Brecken Elliston, a tear slid down her cheek. He never cared much for either his first or middle names, preferring instead to be called ‘Abe.’

Evie just called him, ‘Dad.’

Her father was dead. At the too young age of fifty-four. And even though she was here, at his grave site, had sat through the memorial service, she still had trouble wrapping her mind around that fact.

“I won’t let go until you tell me to,” he’d promised, the day he’d removed the training wheels from her little bicycle.

Evie had wanted to be like her best friend Kate, and Kate had been riding on two wheels for several weeks. But when the time came to actually try it on her own, she had panicked and clutched at her father’s arm.

“Daddy, I’m scared!”

“I won’t let you fall. I promise. I’ll hold on until you’re ready for me to let go.”

And he’d kept his word. As sure as he’d kept hold of her handlebars, running alongside the bike until sweat rolled off his brow and dampened his tee shirt. Until his breath was ragged. And when she’d finally announced that she was ready, he’d stood to the side and cheered her on.

He’d also dashed to her side when she wiped out in a gravel driveway three houses down, drying her tears and tending to her scrapes and bruises.

Evie reached into the pocket of her lightweight jacket and pulled out a single photograph. Not that she needed to see it, because every detail was burned into her memory.  Not that she could see it for the tears that burned in her eyes.

The sixth grade daddy/daughter dance. Evie in her first grown up dress, a gown of lavender satin, sleeveless and lower cut in the back than Abe had been comfortable with. But then he hadn’t been especially comfortable in the suit and tie he’d worn for the occasion either. Still, his smile was proud as could be as he posed with his daughter beneath the fancy archway that had been set up in the gymnasium.

She’d had to have another copy made, and touched up awhile back because this one, the original, had grown tattered from being handled too much.

Though she had avoided it so far, Evie finally forced herself to look to her right. At the headstone that shouldn’t have been there either.

Heidi Anne Elliston. Beloved daughter of Abe and Maddy.

Evie had been there that afternoon. When the policeman had come knocking on the door to tell them that fourteen-year old Heidi had been hit by a car on her way home from the library. It had been a freak accident, there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it. Or to change the outcome.

Her baby sister would never come home again.

I know I don’t normally post on Saturdays, but after just a hint of a thought last night, I started going through my blog posts from last year…and was dismayed to find that I had noted, on three different occasions, how much better I was feeling after eliminating gluten from my diet.

I’m pretty sure it was Karen McFarland who told me about Udi’s bread products, which turned out to be a lifesaver for me.  Toast is almost always my go-to food when I’m hungry and nothing sounds good.  But the loaves from the rice flour recipes I was trying out left a whole lot to be desired.

Over the course of the two and a half or three months I did this, I found some fairly acceptable substitutions for foods I missed.  While they weren’t quite as good, I got used to them…and even got to the place where I could enjoy them.  Except the gluten-free lasagna noodles.  Those are awful and I’ll have to keep looking.  I never found a good substitute for dumplings, which I love with my chicken stew.  And what about tender, flaky pie crust?

So I’m appealing to you for help.

What do those of you who are gluten-free do to make it easier to adhere to the diet?  Do you ever cheat?  How long did it take you to adjust to it, and the fact that if you wanted to feel good, you couldn’t eat your favorite foods anymore?  Obviously almost three months wasn’t long enough for me.  Of course I wasn’t convinced that I was sensitive to gluten either.  I am now.

Some of you may know that I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism last year.  Even fewer know that the treatment hasn’t been working very well, and that I continue to struggle with overwhelming fatigue…especially when under stress.  And getting a novel ready in time for its release date is extremely stressful.  At least in Enza’s case, since many things that could go wrong did go wrong.

And so I have been slacking off a bit (a lot) on visiting other blogs, my own blog, and Twitter.  When there’s no energy to spare, you have to get efficient at prioritizing.  What is the most important thing on the to-do list?  Right now that’s Enza.

But that’s not all.  I’ve been researching, trying to find anything that might help me feel better (since the medicine regarded as the gold standard by physicians is having so little impact).  Hopefully some of the things I’ve discovered will put me back on track.  Until then I’m just going to keep sucking down a variety of supplements, napping when I need to, and trying to reduce the stress in my life.  And really hoping that I don’t have to go back to a gluten-free diet, because that sucks, too.

If you have symptoms of hypothyroidism, or know someone who has been diagnosed with it, the following video is worth your time to watch.  The Mayo Clinic lists symptoms that include:  fatigue, unexplained weight gain, constipation, dry skin, puffy face, muscle aches, and painful joints.  Other symptoms include brain fog, fluid retention, inability to lose weight (even with a low-calorie diet and exercise), decreased libido and hair loss.

In other words, hypothyroidism can adversely affect your life in almost every area.  Not everyone with the disease is going to experience all of the symptoms, but fatigue seems to be pretty universal…and is always at the top of every list I’ve ever come across.