Book Excerpt + Giveaway - Dancing Naked in Dixie by Lauren Clarke
EXCERPT # 4
"My fingers trace the edge of the soft
fabric. This was her blanket. One of a few keepsakes I managed to collect
before my father had my mother's apartment cleaned out. It had been all of
twenty-four hours after the funeral and I unlocked her apartment door to find
each room empty. There was a uniformed mover inside—someone David hired—packing
the remaining items into a solitary box.
“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Where
are my mother’s things? Who are you?”
The poor guy explained that he was asked to
remove everything from the apartment and dispose of it.
“Dispose of it,” I remember shrieking,
“like trash?”
The man backed away, holding up both palms
as if we were launching into a Jackie Chan martial arts battle. Without another
word, I heaved the box onto my hip and left the building. After a stop at my
apartment to drop off my mother’s belongings and pick up one very important
item, I went straight to my father’s office at Forbes.
I stormed inside the building, ignoring the
receptionist, and leapt around scuttling secretaries. My father was at his
desk. He looked up, brow furrowed, when I entered the room.
“Julia,” he said, getting out of his chair.
“How could you?” I asked, keeping my tone
low and soft. I was not going to lose control. I would act like an adult.
“What are you talking about?” my father
asked, sitting back in his chair with a frown. But he knew. I could see it in
his eyes. He knew.
“You’re throwing out everything. You hired
someone to dispose of my mother’s
things. You didn’t tell me. You didn’t ask me. How dare you try to erase her
memory?” The steadiness in my voice wavered. I waited for an answer. A flicker
of emotion. Anything.
My father shifted in his seat. He leaned
forward and clasped his hands. His cufflinks caught the light. The flash of
silver irritated me. Then, I realized why. He was wearing a gift from my
mother; cufflinks for his fiftieth birthday.
“Give those to me,” I said and held out one
hand.
“Pardon me?” my father appeared taken
aback.
“The cufflinks. My mother gave them to
you.” I began to tremble. My palm felt damp. I made myself stand straight.
Unwavering.
My father stared back at me. He didn’t
move. He didn’t remove the cufflinks.
I expected as much.
With a swift movement, I yanked the book
from under my arm and slammed it down on his desk. The pages flew open. For a
moment, I caught myself. Was I really
doing this? The album was a collection of postcards—places we’d visited
during my childhood, my teenage years, and in college. It was my mother’s idea.
She loved postcards—wacky ones, beautiful ones, every sort of postcard she
could find. It was a way to remember all of my travels. That’s what she told me
when she bought me the first one. My mother sent them when she was on trips.
When I was older, I mailed them to her. It was a way we had connected.
My heart thumped as I peeled back the first
page. I glimpsed my mother’s writing on the back. After a moment’s hesitation,
clutching the thick rectangle between my fingers, I tossed it at my father’s
head.
The first one was the most difficult. After
that, it became easier. I launched another, and another. Pictures of Myrtle
Beach, The Poconos, and Napa Valley flew past David’s head. I followed up with
New Mexico, Dallas, and the Florida Keys. The floor around my father became a
sea of color. The air filled with picturesque scenes—beaches, mountains, lakes.
The Grand Canyon bounced off his nose. Las
Vegas landed on his shoulder. The Seattle Space Needle slid past his elbow. In
a final rush, I sent postcards of St. Simon’s Island, Cancun, and Knoxville,
Tennessee into my father’s lap.
For my grand finale, I held up the
remaining pages and dumped them into the trashcan. David didn’t even blink.
“Good-bye.” I let the door to his office
slam behind me.
He never answered.
I close my eyes against the memory, tucking
my body into a smaller ball on the sofa. As my knees press against my chest, I
sigh. I wrap both arms around my legs, hugging them closer.
For the thousandth time since my mother’s
death, I wish I’d kept the album. I wish I’d kept even a few of the postcards.
A tear escapes from the corner of my eye. It runs down my cheek and splashes
onto my arm.
Most of all, more than anything, I wish I
had my mother back.
A wisp of a girl, feet flying, is wrestling
valiantly with a dark-haired man three times her size. After a few seconds, the
man squats down with the girl, gently holds her wrists and forces one hand
open, then the other. Defeated, the girl lets the stones fall like hail in a
thunderstorm.
I step from behind the vehicle. A much
too-thin, agitated woman rushes out the back door. It bangs hard behind her.
“Ella Rae Sweet, you come here this instant.”
Her face a mix of frustration and frown lines,
the woman storms for the steps leading down to the parking lot.
For a moment, the woman becomes my mother,
and me, the child. The lines soften into a round blonde woman in an apron and
skirt. I’m six years old again, my usual headstrong-self running away from
trouble. I’ve likely broken a vase or knocked over a table.
The wood on the stairs creaks, an eerie
loud crunch. We all look up in time to see the second rung crumble into several
pieces beneath the woman. As she falls forward, her mouth opens in a silent
shriek of dismay, too late to make a sound.
Like a tight end in a pro-football game,
the dark-haired man springs into action. In one fluid motion, he shoots to the
bottom of the steps, crouches down, and catches the woman in both arms.
Touchdown!
Wow. I blink at the impressive display of
athleticism."
Lauren Clark writes contemporary
novels set in the Deep South; stories sprinkled with sunshine, suspense, and
secrets. She is the author of Stay Tuned,
Dancing Naked in Dixie, and Center of Gravity (October 2012).
A former TV news anchor, Lauren
adores flavored coffee, local book stores, and anywhere she can stick her toes
in the sand. Her big loves are her family, paying it forward, and true-blue friends.
Check out her website at www.laurenclarkbooks.com. You can
also find Lauren on GoodReads, Twitter, and Facebook.
Smart,
Sassy Fiction with a Southern Twist
Other stops on the tour:
Sept 10 Forget The Housework, I'm Reading Guest Post/Excerpt
Sept 11 Chick Lit Reviews And News-
Review/Author Interview
Sept 12 Nette's Bookshelf Excerpt/Guest Post
Sept 15 Chick Lit
& WIne Review
Sept 16 The Thoughts Of A Girl, Review/Excerpt
Sept 17 Library Mosaic Excerpt
Sept 18 Desperado Penguin Review
Sept 19 Captivated Reading Excerpt
Sept 20 WV Stitcher Review
Sept 21 Kritters Ramblings Review/Author Interview
Sept 22 Steph The Book Worm Review
Sept 23 Aria's Dark Muse Review
Sept 24 Amy's Booket List Review
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Wow Dancing Naked Dixie sounds great!
ReplyDeletethanX
redz041@yahoo.cm
Thank you so very much, Carla, for reviewing Dixie and featuring the novel on your site! Eufaula is such a special place and I wanted to honor the history and beauty of the area with the book!
ReplyDeletexx, Lauren