Episode #9: As Long As You Eat At Home

She stood there in the kitchen door and looked for a place on the counter to put down her armload of groceries. “Mama, what on Earth are you a doin’?”

“What does it look like, Vista Kay? I’m bakin’ some apple pies.”

“Are ya feedin’ an army?” She asked as she finally found a place to plop the pokes.

“Law no, but the boys is comin’ over ta watch “Primeval” with me, so I thought we’d have some pie an’ ice cream.”

“That’s real sweet Mama, but ‘xactly how many boys is comin’ over?”

“Just Brod, Ronnie and Jeff.” She rubbed White Lily on her wooden rolling pin and went to precisely flattening the dough. “I tol’ them boys they needed to be out a cattin’ aroun’, but they insist on one night a week with their Maw Maw.” She put the rolling pin aside and smiled at her daughter. “Who’da thought I’d be the pop’lar gal all the boys wants spend Saturday night with?”

Vista opened the pantry and started putting cans of soup away. “Are ya gonna be finished in time fer me ta start dinner?”

“Oh, honey, I already gots a chicken casserole in the ice box ready for the oven. That little Melanie and Brady was a sittin’ around eatin’ one Maggie made on m’story this week an’ I got a hankerin’. I tried ta find Maggie on Twitter ta tell her ta add a brick a cream cheese, but I cain’t find her.”

“You’ve really gotten into ta this Twitter thang, ain’t cha?” Vista opened the fridge and put some veggies from her bags in the crisper.

“Oh, I jus’ love it. Gives an ol’ lady sumpin ta do.” Maw Maw picked up her pie crust and gently laid it in one of the pie pans she’d bought when she was Vista’s age.

Suddenly the kitchen was filled with music. Vista looked up from her grocery bags. “Is that cello music?”

Maw Maw held up her finger. “Torchwood Theme…hold that thought, honey pot.” She pulled her I-Phone out of her apron pocket. She expertly pressed a few buttons and smiled. “Ronnie’s gonna bring Modene. Did you get some Sun Drop?”

“Yes…”

“Good.” Maw Maw smiled and typed a message and hit send. “Cain’t understand why Ronnie and Modene love that Sun Drop. Tastes like dirty water a lemon peed in ta me.” She dropped her phone back in her pocket, washed her hands and went back to work on her pies.

Vista balled up the grocery bags and stuffed them into the recycle holder her Aunt Faye made out of an old umbrella cover and some safety pins. She walked past the oven to preheat it for the casserole. “Have you already got pies in the oven?”

“Uh huh.” Maw Maw sprinkled more White Lily on the counter and plopped another mound of dough on it. “Got four a coolin' in the mud room, four in the oven and getting ready ta fill the last four.”

“Twelve pies?” Vista put her hands on her hips. “Just how many tape worms do the boys have?”

Maw Maw giggled. “Vista Kay they ain’t all fer me an’ the boys. I’m sendin’ ten of em as gifts to m’friends.”

“What friends?” Vista opened the door to the mudroom and sure enough, there were four golden brown apple pies on the baker’s rack.

“Well, James Scott had a birthday las’week. Now he ain’t got no Twitter account so I couldn’t wish ‘im happy birthday, but that Nicole girl, what’s her name agin? Sumpin Zucker, anyway she Tweeted a picture of a birthday cake someone sent ‘im so I thought…”

The woman held up her hands. “Stop right there, Mama! Are we a talkin’ about that soap opera agin?”

“No.” Her mother looked up from her last pie crust and rubbed the flour off her nose.

“Ain’t James Scott that actor?”

“Yess’m. He plays E.J.”

“Then we are talkin’ about your story.”

“No, we’re talkin’ about James Scott. The actor who plays Elvis, Jr. on m’story. They’s a difference a tween real and not real, Vista honey.”

“No kiddin’.”

“Anyway…” Maw Maw went back to her pie. “I thought I’d send him one a m’apple pies as a late birthday gift. Then a course that little Ali Sweeney hurt her knee. She’s still a waitin’ on the MRI, so I thought I’d send her one. Then I thought well, I’ll just make enough for whoever’s a workin' the day they come.”

“So you’re gonna send twelve apple pies to Salem?”

Maw Maw shook her head. "Jus' ten of 'em. The other two's fer tanight. We gots ta have some sugar wif our monsters."

“Mama, Salem don’t exist!”

“Yes it does!” Maw Maw whipped around and stabbed her flour covered rolling pin at her daughter. “It’s a set at the studio. I’m a havin’ m’pies UPSed to the set with a little thank ye note, and I sorry I fergot yer birthday card fer Mr. Scott.”

“Mama, I’m beginning ta worry about you.”

“P’shaw honey. I know them people don’t read most a m’Tweets, but it makes me happy. An’ if someone from Ca-nay-de-a kin have a choc’late cake sent to E.J. fer his birthday, then UPS can fer dern sure cart ten pies to ‘em.”

“Fine, Mama.” Her head turned when the chicken timer started squawking. “Does’at mean yer pies are comin’ out of the oven?”

“Yup an’ leave the oven on. I jus needs ta put the finishin’ touches on this’n and the last batch’ll go right in. Do ya wanna sign Jimmy Scott’s birthday card?”

Vista smiled as she stuck her hands in the oven mitts shaped like cows and opened the door. “No thanks, Mama.”

“It’s real funny. On the front it’s got Lazarus a tellin’ somebody ‘I was dead! I tell ya, I was dead!” an’ on the inside it says ‘My excuse fer missin’ birthday isn’t as good’. Ain’t that darlin’?”

“Real cute, Mama.” She carried one of the pies into the mud room.

“I thought ‘bout scratchin’ Lazarus’ name out an’ writin in Stefano, but I thought that a might sac-religious.”

Maw Maw carefully laid the top crust on her pie and began to pinch the edges. The Torchwood theme played again. She reached in her pocket and looked at the screen. “Hey, Luller, what’cha doin’?”

“I need your hep’ somethin’ awful, Ruby.” She heard her day. “Am I a botherin ya?”

“I’m jus’ finishin’ up makin’ some pies for E.J.’s birthday.”

“Is it his birthday?”

“Las’ week.” She shifted the phone to her other ear and wiped her hands on her apron. “You want I should put yer name on the card, too?”

“Would you? That’d be so sweet.”

“Sure, honey, now what can I do fer ya?”

“I’m a tryin’ ta make yer Monkey Bread fer m’ gran’babies. I got ever thing, but I forgot how ta put it ta-gether.”

“No prob, Luller. I’ll walk ya through it. Now what have ya got?”

“Well, I got two cans a buttermilk biscuits…”

“Have ya preheated yer oven to what the directions says?”

“Ya huh and a melted a whole stick a butter.”

“Did ya mix tagether a cup a sugar an a tablespoon a cinnamon?”

“In the bowl, now what?”

“Hold yer horses, Luller. Ya gots yer bunt pan all greased?”

“A course I got m’bunt pan greased, ya think I jus’ come from a two fer one sale on stupid?”

Maw Maw laughed. “No, honey, but if ya ain’t got that bunt pan greased real well yer Monkey bread’s a gonna stick ‘n’ burn.”

“Taken care of.”

“Okay, Luller, the rest is simple. Jest cut them biscuits each in half then half agin, roll em into balls an roll ‘em in that sugar mixture.”

“That’s it?”

“Uh huh. Drop 'em in the bunt pan onest ya gots ‘em rolled. When ya got one can a biscuits dropped in, pour half that butter over ‘em, then sprinkle half yer remainin’ sugar mix then repeat.”

“See I knowed it was easy. I was jest sure it was harder’n that.”

“Now, if’n ya want afore ya do the other can a biscuits you kin sprinkle a handful a nuts er choclate chips er raisins, what ever blows yer skirt up. Just do it again when ya git that other can a biscuits done.”

“Then I bake it fer whatever the directions on the can calls for plus fifteen right?”

“Plus ten, but if the top ain’t brown leave it a while longer. An don’t ferget when ya take it outta the oven, flip it right outta the pan. Don’ let it cool er you’ll never get that mess out!"

“Got’cha. Hey, you watched the story yet?”

“Course, once yestady and once on Hulu this morning. I been bawlin’ my eyes out all day.”

“It’s jus sa sad.” Luller moaned. “I cain’t believe they’s pokin’ both a little Johnny’s eyes out.”

“Law, you don’t think they’d make that little boy blind do ya?” Maw Maw fretted.

“They gots ta do something to redeem E.J. and Sami.”

“Well, Sami ain’t got nothin’ to be forgiven fer as far as I’m concerned.”

“But she shot E.J. in the head, Ruby!”

“Law, the way that man has treated her, the only thang she did wrong was put a bullet in the wrong head!”

Luller giggled. “I swan, Ruby Acres, you is a mess. Now do ya thank Dr. Dan and that Chloe’ll get back tagether?”

“I gots to admit, I do feel sorry fer Chloe, but she’s just one split end away from Crazyville, an’ poor ol’ Doctor Dan. With all the yer the daddy yer not the daddy biz'ness Carly and Chloe has put him threwed, if I was him I’d join Vivian a daydreamin’ about skinny dippin with Brady.”

“The womens in Salem just don’t know how ta treat a man, do they?”

“Luller honey, I gots to crimp m’pies now. Me ‘n’ the boys er a watchin’ “Primeval” tonight if ya wants ta come over.”

“No honey, but I'm sa glad God give us poor folk BBCAmerica."

"Ain't it the truth." Maw Maw agreed.

"But lets me know when season three a “Being Human” starts, the good one." She remembered, then added, "I loves me some Russell Tovey.”

“Luller, ya know he’s one a them gay boys.” Maw Maw reminded her.

“I know, but it don’t matter whar ya git yer appetite as long as ya eats at home.”

Maw Maw laughed. “Law, ain’t it the truth, Luller. Hope the gran babies like the Monkey Bread.”

She hit end on her phone and slipped it back in her pocket. She picked up a bread knife and made five perfect slits in the top crust of her last pie, then inspected her work.

Vista breezed in from the mudroom. “Mama, one a these days yer gonna hafta teach me yer secret to crimpin’ a pie crust. They is always the purdiest I ever seed.”

“Honey, it’s a secret handed down from each generation a women in are fam’ly. When I pass on, I left a letter fer both you ‘n’ yer sister ‘xactly how ta do it.”

“But Mama…”

“Honey, ya waited all this time, another thirty forty years ain’t gonna hurt’cha none.”

“Fine. Get them pies in the oven. Brod’ll be home from work soon; an I wanna have dinner on the table. He likes aspar’gus with chicken. Has we gots any in the freezer?”

“Should be. You run out ta the Spring house an’ check an’ I’ll crimp these last pies an’ gets ‘em ta bakin’.”

“Ya won’t let me stay ‘n watch?”

“No honey. I wants ta be buried in m' Save Mark Hapka tee shirt, so my secret is all a gots ta pass on to ya when I die, other wise I cain’t leave ya nothin’ but m’bills.”

“Okay, Mama.” Vista grabbed her jacket and kissed her mother on the check. “It’s cold out thar. I keep a wonderin’ when Johnson County, Tennessee slid all the way to Montana.”

“Still gots four more pebbles in m’jar. Winter aint’ ova yet.” Maw Maw nodded to the Mason jar on the windowsill.

“Well, if I don’ come back in five minutes come lookin’ fer m’body at Spring thaw.” Vista pushed out the kitchen door into the snowy winter chill.

Maw Maw nonchalantly looked out the window to make sure she saw her daughter had passed. As soon as she was sure she wouldn’t return suddenly, the old woman pulled closer the last pie to be finished. “Ain’t even lettin’ m’daughter has a chance a winning the blue ribbon at the county fair ‘stead a me…”

She looked out the window one more time. Satisfied Vista wouldn’t return, she pulled out her false teeth and used them to perfectly crimp the crusts of her pies.

Episode #8: That Well You Know Feeling

“Hey, you!” The woman knocked her shopping cart into the case of “Bagel Bites” he was stocking. “What did ja do with all the Nippelodian ice cream?”

Jeff stood up straight and smiled. “Uhmm…I’ve never heard of that, but I’ve only worked here a few days.” He took a few steps to the refrigerated section and opened a door. “Here’s where we keep the ice cream. Let’s see if we can find it.”

“Right thar it is!” The woman reached down towards the bottom and hauled out a huge plastic tub. “Cain’t you read?”

Embarrassed, Jeff read the label. “Oh, Neapolitan. I misunderstood, ma’am. I thought you said…”

The woman pointed to the big black word and spelled it out loud for him. “N-E-A-P-O-L-I-T-A-N…Nippelodian! It’s Franch, you cain’t pronounce all the letters. That’s what I hate ‘bout all you ferinners. Ya think yer so much better than ever body. Go back to whar ya come from!”

“Ma’am, I’m American.” Jeff blinked.

“But you ain’t from here! Go back up North and speak Yankee to yer own kind.” She had to push hard to run over his foot, but she managed to do it, mumbling, “Comin’ to our town and takin’ all are jobs…” as she went.

Jeff just shook his head and limped back over to the Bagel Bites and finished stocking them. He broke down the box, doing his best to smile and say hello to everyone that knocked into him or told him to get out of the way. He broke the empty box down and placed it on his float.

Looking over the carnage of the grocery store, he wanted to stand on the float and yell at the top of his lungs, “Yes, it’s snowing outside! Better hurry, you’ll never ever be able to buy food again!”

Another woman grabbed him by the arm. “Are you stockin' here?”

“I’m trying ma’am, but there’s not much left.” He said. “Is there something I can help you find?”

“Yes. I need a case a them microwave dinners. Them kind that ain’t frozen.” She snapped like he should have known.

“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. We are all out. They’ve been on sale, and the truck couldn’t get here because of the bad weather.”

“Stop yappin’ boy, and run in the back and get me some. Don’t care what kind, just mix me up a case.”

“Ma’am, there aren’t any in the back. We’re all out.” He tried to smile. “Hopefully, we’ll have some more on Monday. That’s when the next truck comes in.”

“All out?” She screamed. “You ain’t got narry one in the back?”

“No, ma’am. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, I swan. I bet if I's a Butler 'er a Trivette you'd have some.” She grabbed her cart and started to storm off. She stopped in front of him and screamed in his face. “I jus’ want you ta know, that when the ‘lectricity goes out, my kids ain’t gonna have nothin’ ta eat, an’ it’s all yer fault!”

“But ma’am, if the electricity goes out, you won’t be able to use the microwave anyway.” He said meekly.

“That’s why I want them kind that ain’t frozen, ya fool!”

Jeff yanked his feet out of the line of her cart wheels just in time. He sighed, then weaved and veered until he got his empty float off the floor. He took a few minutes and pushed the last jugs of milk through the doors so they could be snapped up by those convinced they’ll never ever be able to buy milk again.

All the eggs and bread were gone, he was hoping the last gallons of milk would give people something else to fist fight over rather than taking it out on him. He looked at his watch, a half hour to go. Jeff took a deep breath, plastered a smile back on and headed out to the sales floor. He’d block what was left on the shelves until time to go.

He’d just stepped out and a little tot of a girl with bushy red hair darted right into him.

“Baby Girl!” He heard the mother bellow. “I said to not let go of the cart!”

The little doll looked up at him and smiled. The sweetness melted all the nastiness of the rest of the day away.

“Sowwy, mithtah!” She said.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He smiled back. “You better run back to your mama, and don’t let go of that cart anymore. Okay?”

“Oh tay.” She turned around and he watched her slip her fingers through the metal mesh of the cart, all the while looking at him and grinning away.

“Jeff?” He heard the mother’s voice again. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Deanna?” Jeff finally recognized her. The last time he’d seen her she was about to give birth on the floor in Homeroom. “How you doin’?”

She grinned from ear to ear, making Jeff see the resemblance in her daughter’s smile. “Jes’ fine! I ain’t seed you since the first day a school. You likin’ it?”

“It’s fine. I’m still adjusting, but school is school.” He took a step towards her and rubbed her little girl’s curls again. “Did you not come back after the baby was born?”

“They made me git one them tutor thangs, but soon as all this snow melts enough to run the buses agin’, I’ll be back.”

“Good. Home room’s been a little dull without you.”

“Aw, that’s sa sweet.” Deanna smiled. “An’ thank ye fer the diapers. Them disposable kind is a real treat. I’m only a usin’ ‘em fer special occasions.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” Jeff noticed the car seat strapped in the shopping cart. “Is that the baby?”

“Yup.” Deanna picked the chubby little boy from the trundle and plopped him right in Jeff’s unexpecting arms. “This is Derek Hough Morely and…” she reached down in the basket and picked up an equally chubby identical baby. “…this is Maksim Chmerkovskiy Morely.”

“Twins?”

“Uh huh…fer some reason when I pop out boys they comes in pairs.”

“You named them after those people on ‘Dancing With the Stars’?”

“I figured they’s the reason I got pregnant in the first place.” Deanna frowned. “I feel kinda bad about not namin’ one after that Mark Ballis, but I be dang if I was havin’ triplets just to name one after him.”

“Well, they’re definitely interesting names for two very beautiful little boys.” Jeff stood there holding Derek Hough, hoping Deanna was intending on taking him back eventually.

“I’m callin’ em D.H. and M.C.” She plopped M.C. back in the basket. “I think that sounds modern without bein' stupid, don’t you? I jus’ hate it when people names they kids somethin’ stupid.” She looked up and growled. “Impala, git outta that woman’s cart an’ get back over here.”

“I’d better get back to work.” Jeff held the baby toward Deanna. “I guess I’ll see you in homeroom at Spring thaw.”

Deanna giggled. “Yer funny!” One hand on the cart, and one hand on red headed Impala she started to shove off. “I’ll see ya soon.”

“Uhmm…Deanna?” Jeff held the baby very definitely toward her. “I think this is yours?”

“Lawdy!” Deanna slapped her forehead. “When ya got six under six, sometimes ya ferget where ya put one.” She took the baby from Jeff’s arms and strapped him back in the seat. “…but I reckin that’s why God makes babies cry sa much.”

She rattled off and Jeff stood there wondering if he should check the aisles for mislaid redheaded toddlers. He looked up and saw another face he recognized, one that made him smile.

“Miss Ruby!” He called out.

The old woman smiled back and pushed her cart right over to him, keeping one hand on it while she gave him a big old hug. “Jeff! I was a hopin’ I’d see you!” She pushed him back and chided him. “An’ I tol’ja ta call me Maw Maw.”

He blushed. “But you’re not really…”

“Hesh up, chil’” She smiled. “There’s blood and there’s heart. Yer def’nitly that last ‘en.”

“Thank you.” It was his turn to chide her. “Now what are you doing out in weather like this?”

She waved her hands at him. “Law, Jeff. This ain’t nothin’. When I was yer age I had to walk ten miles barefoot up the mountain ta school in snow deeper’n this a fightin’ off Indians at the same time.”

“I see you’re wearing your tee shirt.” He laughed.

“A course!” She stuck her sagging chest out and smoothed the picture emblazoned with the words ‘Save Mark Hapka’. “I kin still watch ‘im til March I figure. I’m hopin’ there’s still a chance they’ll bring ‘im back. He ain’t been a Twitterin’ much, but I figure they’s throwin’ him one a them goodbye orgies. Ain’t that what they calls ‘em?”

“Uhhh...”

“Now…” Maw Maw reached in her purse and pulled out a box, handing it to him. “This is fer you.”

“Me?”

“Uh huh. A li’l thank ye and late Christmas present.” She grinned.

“Miss…Maw Maw. You didn’t have to do that.”

“P’shaw! Jes’ open it.”

Jeff ripped the paper off one end and his jaw dropped. “Ma’am this is an I-Phone.”

“That’s what they calls it.” She smiled. “I was a hoggin’ Brod’s laptop, so me an’ Dreama Holmes runned down ta that store on Exit 7 and got me one. An’ while I was there I got a good deal on them thangs.” She pointed to the gadget in Jeff’s hands. “So I got one fer me, Brod, Modene an’ you. Had ta make sure all m’Twitter buddies had one, too.”

“But, Maw Maw these are expensive. How could you afford…?”

“Shush now. You’d be surprised at what you can get when yer 86 an’ can fake a fall in a chain store. Come shoppin’ with me sometime. I’ll show ya how ta gets a good deal.”

“I don’t know what to say.” He said as he gave her a big hug.

“Don’t say nothin’ jus’ come over to the house this weekend and show me some more stuff on the computer. Fer an ol’ lady, I’m a havin fun! Did you know they’s a place called Hulu whar you kin watch TV shows anytime?”

“Yes I did.”

“I been watchin’ Mark Hapka almost all day long. Vonda Kay’s got a TiVo now, so she’s gonna down load some episodes on her computer sos she can edit all the good butt shots ta put on disk fer me!”

Jeff bit his lip. “I’ll be happy to come over any time if that’s okay with Brod.”

“Brod?” She frowned. “Why wouldn’t be okay wi’him?”

“Well…” Jeff looked at his feet. “I think I make him uncomfortable, that’s all.”

“Honey, he’s a gettin’ over it. We all gots ta remember how he feels. He ain’t never had no contact at all wi’ his Daddy, an’ suddenly after almost eighteen years he comes back inta his life wi’ you in tow.”

“I understand.” Jeff looked at her with a weak smile. “I’ve never seen my biological father either. So I know how he feels.”

“Sweetheart.” Maw Maw put her hand on his arm. “I didn’t know that.”

Jeff nodded. “I can only imagine what Brod must think when I'm around.”

She touched his cheek with her withered fingers. “Honey, ya’ll have sa much in common. Give it time.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ruby Acres!” A snide shout came from behind them. “I am surprised to see you!”

Maw Maw’s eyes closed to slits and her old voice dropped an octave. “Arzella Tater, you about in all this snow?”

“Of course, dear.” The woman’s cart came to an abrupt stop as she looked down on Maw Maw and Jeff. “Marcella’s birthday party is today. It always the bash of the year, too many would be disappointed if we canceled. Most of the county would hap’ply risk death to get to one of my parties, let ‘lone a celebration of my Marcella’s birth!”

Maw Maw smiled. “Did Dreama drop off the gift I bought fer Marceller?”

“Yes, Ruby. She’ll open it with the rest of the gifts.” Arzella sneered. “The ones from people who were invited.”

“Well, ain’t nothin’ ‘spensive, just a new pair a knee pads.” Maw Maw looked at Jeff. “I heard the football team say she’d worn her’s out.”

“Yes, she goes through them like peanuts.” Arzella cocked her head and smiled obliviously. “Marcella is so athleltic.”

“Sump’n like that.” Maw Maw said.

“Well, I just wanted to say hello.” Arzella grasped her cart. “I had heard you weren’t up to par, and was shocked to see you out in this weather.”

“I had a little weak spell, but I’m back a full tilt a’gin.”

“That’s good.” Arzella looked at her tee and Jeff could see her lips move as she read. “Save Mark Hapka? Why, Ruby, how wonderful that you’ve taken to carryin’ on the Lord’s work.”

“What er you talkin’ ‘bout, Arzella?”

Arzella scowled and pointed to Maw Maw’s shirt. “Save Mark Hapka. I assume you’ve started a massive effort to save that young man’s soul.”

“He’s a Horton, Arzella, that’s purdy much a free ticket ta heaven.”

“Then why…?”

“Never mind, Arzella, it’s sumpin you cain’t unnerstand.”

Arzella Tater squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips, 90% cellulite, 10% hip. “Are you insinuatin’ I’m stupid?”

“P’shaw, I ain’t insinuatin’ nothin’…”

“Ma’am…” Jeff decided to step in. “Is there something I can help you find…for the party?”

Arzella smiled and turned her attention to him. “Yes, young man. Cheese, I need cheese and let me remind you, this ain’t no Moretz hoedown. This is a fine ta do with class!”

“Of course.” Jeff put up his hand before Maw Maw could make a come back. “All we have in this aisle is your standard American, Swiss and Colbys but the Deli should have some nice imported soft cheeses like Brie and Gouda.”

“Gouda?” Arzella turned up her nose. “This is a first class party young man. We ain’t havin’ no ferrin garbage! Only the best fer my Marcella. She gets squirt cheese!”

Jeff slapped his hand to his mouth to stifle the laugh Maw Maw barely hid. Arzella pushed her cart away from them and threw snidely over her shoulder, “Squirt cheese on Chicken in a Bisket!”

“Look honey, I’d better git outta here afore I git both of us in trouble.” Maw Maw kissed Jeff’s cheek. “Now you be careful goin’ home.”

“I have four wheel drive.”

“I got four wheels, too.” Maw Maw smiled. “And sometimes, all four of ‘em’s on the ground when I drive.”

Jeff shook his finger at her as she headed toward the check out. She got in Luller Needles line, so she knew it wouldn’t take long. Sure enough, as she started putting her groceries on the belt her buddy Dreama Holmes appeared, chomping at the bit.

“Luller rush her through. We gots ta get home.” Dreama said.

“I know. I’ll do that best I kin, Dreama honey. I wanna git home m’self. I hate drivin’ in all this stuff.” Luller said rubbing a can of collard greens across the red eye.

“Oh, we don’t care nothin’ bout the snow Luller.” Maw Maw plopped a sack of White Lily on the belt. “Miss Americer’s on tonight. Me an’ Dreama ain’t a missed one since the first TV set in Johnson County.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve watched one of them since that little Sonya Pleasant from Mountain City was Miss Tennessee.” Luller ran a few more items across the eye. “You want yer milk in a bag?”

“No, honey. It’s easier to haul by hand.” Maw Maw handed Luller her coupons. “I was so mad she didn’t even make the finals, but a hometown girl was Miss Tennessee so that was nice.”

“You know they should have a Miss Johnson County agin.” Dreama hefted some plastic bags into the cart. “We haven’t had one a them in twenty years or more.”

“Shoot, Dreama.” Luller snapped her gum. “They ain’t had enough smart, nice purdy girls to have one in twenty years.”

“El, they find fifty to represent Americer.” Maw Maw handed Luller some cash. “So ya know half ‘em gots ta be fakin’ it. Thar should be 'nough sluts in Johnson County ta fake bein' good girls fer a beauty pageant.”

Luller handed Maw Maw her change. “Maybe I’ll get m’husband ta watch it with me tonight. I usually don’t let ‘im watch lots of girlie thangs, ‘cept women’s basketball.”

“You let Wally Dean watch women’s basketball?” Maw Maw grabbed a bag from her hand and plopped it in her cart.

“He says it’s because them girls er in it fer the love a the game and not the money like the men.”

“Well, ya cain’t really argue wi’ that.” Maw Maw agreed.

“I know.” Luller sighed. “But deep down I know he jus’ likes the bouncin’ hooters.”

“Luller, we all gots them secret things we likes ta see that gives us that…well you know feelin’.” Dreama said.

“I reckon.” Luller fretted.

“I like m’stories. They do it fer me.” Maw Maw rubbed her tee shirt, “’Specially this hunk a man.”

“I like ta watch them gym-nasts.” Dreama put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Law the way they kin twist themselves and theys all them muscles that bulge out in the right places.”

“Maybe that’s m’problem.” Luller said. “Ta be honest, if ya wanna git ta me rub a grilled steak behin’ yer ears an’ talk like a loaded baked tater.”

Maw Maw shook her head and put the last plastic sack in her cart. “Luller, you just need ta spend some time on the Food Network.”

“Oooh! I love that channel!” Her eyes brightened and she smiled.

“See?” Dreama said getting behind the cart loaded with groceries for two snowy households. “We all gots them secret things we watch cause they make us feel good.”

“Tha’s right, Luller.” Maw Maw grabbed the cart, too. “Don’t go frettin’ ‘bout Wally Dean a watchin’ women’s basketball.”

“I guess yer right.” She smiled at her friends. “You girls be careful. Them roads is awful.”

“We jes’ gots a straight shot up the mountain.” Dreama reminded her. “But we’ll be right careful.”

“You, too, honey.” Maw Maw helped Dreama push the loaded cart towards the doors.

Luller turned to her next customer. “Nonnie Funk! I ain’t seed you in ages!”

The arthritic lady stood there with a loaf of bread cradled in one arm and five pounds of sugar in the other, snuff dripping down the wrinkles in the corners of her mouth. “Huh!” She snorted and spit on the floor.

“Would like ta take advan’age of are special? Two nabs fer a dollar?”

“No!” The woman huffed. She slammed her bread on the conveyor and before Luller could push the button she slammed the sugar on top, completely obliterating the bread. “An’ if m’ bread is smashed one more time afore I git it home…”

Episode #7: The Hapka of Our Lives

Vista Kay opened the door and let her twin sister Vonda Kay inside.

“How’s she doin’?” She asked as she closed the door behind her.

“It’s bad, honey.” Vista pushed her hair back in place and motioned Vonda to follow her down the hall to their mother’s room. “I didn’t think she'd take the news like this. I just had no idea.”

“She’s 86 years old.” Vonda sighed. “It don’t take much to set her off.”

“But this…” Her sister shook her head. “I’ve tried ever thing to pull her outta it, but it’s been a week.”

“A week! Law, she hain’t tuck to her bed fer that long since they canceled “Another World”.” Vonda held up the Lock’n’lock she held in her hand. “Well, maybe this’ll cheer her up. If not, I got one more trick up m’sleeve.”

“Good luck.” Vista sighed. “I’ve tried ever thing I can think of, even offered t’ load the shotgun and let her shoot at any thing that moves in the backyard.”

“Mercy, that usually perks her right up.”

“Like I said, honey.” Vista put her hand on her mother’s bedroom door. “This is worse than I’ve ever seen her.”

Vista knocked lightly and pushed opened the door. “Mama? Look who’s here?”

The sisters stepped in the room and gazed at their mother, laid back on the gingham pillowcases, still in a rumpled bed with the curtains closed.

The old woman turned her head to the door and smiled feebly. “Vonda Kay. You come to say goodbye.”

“Oh pooh, Mama. Don’t wanna hear ya talk like that.” Vonda whisked into the bedroom trying hard to be a ray of sunshine. She snapped off the lid of what she was carrying and presented it to her mother, holding it under her nose so she could get a good whiff. “Look what I made, just fer you?”

“Steak fingers?” She asked.

Vonda nodded. “All fer you. I know how much you like ‘em.”

The old lady looked sadly down at the breaded, deep fried meat and sighed.

“They’s still hot…” Her daughter encouraged.

“Uhmmmm, they smell good.” Vista smiled. “Kin I have one?”

“No. They’s all fer Mama.” Vonda picked one up. “Want one?”

The old lady shook her head. “Just put the lid back on and put ‘em over there. I’ll share ‘em with the angels when they come ta take me ta heaven.”

Vonda tried one more time. “What if the angels are vegetarians?”

Her mother shot her a look. “Then I’ll know I’ve died an’ gone ta hell.” She crossed her arms, pulled the handmade quilt up tighter and stared into space.

“Aw, Mama.” Vonda sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s got’cha in such a state?”

“Life just ain’t worth livin’ no more.” The woman’s wrinkled face trembled and her eyes teared up.

Vista took the cover crocheted to look like a possum off the Kleenex, picked up the box and sat on the other side of the bed to hand them to her.

The 86 year old took one, honked her nose and sniffed. “The world just ain’t a place an ol’ lady like me needs ta be. I’m jest gonna lay here and wait fer Jesus to come an' kill the rest a me, like they done to m’heart.”

Vonda looked at Vista who shrugged her shoulders as their mother balled up the used Kleenex and lobbed a perfect shot into the trash can without rim. They all turned to the commotion barreling down the hall.

“Maw Maw!” Brod said as he threw open the door. “Maw Maw open them curtains an' see what me and Modene made fer ya in school.” He ran in the bedroom and threw open the blinds flooding the dank room with light.

“Law, child!” Maw Maw threw her hands in front of her face. “You tryin’ ta blind me afore the vegetarian angels drag me ta hell?”

“Sorry, Maw Maw.” The teenager twisted the blind knob a little. Out of breath he pulled a flimsy, poorly wrapped package from his jacket. “Here. Me and Modene spend extry time in the media center today and made this fer ya.” Brod smiled as he placed the package in his grandmother’s hands.

“Sweet Chil’ I don’t want no presents.” His grandmother sighed. “I just wanna go be with yer Granpaw. He’s been in heaven five years now, so I’m sure he’s got on socks that don’t match.”

“Open it, Mama.” Vista said. “It gots ta be something purdy. You know how Brod and his cousin git when they sit down at the computer.”

Brod grinned from ear to ear as his grandmother opened the paper. Contents revealed, she looked up. “That’s real sweet, Brod honey. Thank you.” She let it lay there untouched.

“Hold it up.” Brod shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. “We made it special fer ya.”

“Let me he’p ya, Mama.” Vista picked up the tee shirt, let it unfold and laid it picture out against her mother’s chest. Vista’s eyes lit up and she giggled. “That’s perfect Brod!”

“We thought so.” He smiled.

Vonda looked at the emblem on the white shirt. “Save Mark Hapka? Is that was all this is about? A soap opera?”

Maw Maw put her hands to her face and sobbed. “First John and Marlena, then Patch and Kayla and now they’ve let that sweet little Horton boy out of his contract!” She wailed.

Vonda Kaye stood up and slammed her hands on her hips. “Mama! It’s just a soap opera for cryin’ out loud. It ain’t the end a the world!”

The old lady whipped her head to stare at her daughter with eyes blazing. “I can get over that Blackburn’s is now a Food Country. I got used to always havin’ ta look fer the phone when it rings and I learned to live wi’the fact that a gallon a gas cost more’n a pair a good panties but that boy made that show! It’s too much!”

“Burned biscuits, Mama!” Vonda snorted. “Why don’t you just watch some other show?”

“Watch some other show?” Maw Maw grabbed the covers with her fists. “I’ve watched that show forever! It's my story! Them Hortons mean just as much ta’me as you do.”

“But they’re characters in a TV Show.”

“They’s Horton and they ain’t many real ones left, Vonda Kay.” Maw Maw crossed her arms in defiance.

“That’s just silly.” Vonda plopped back down on the bed and picked up the tee shirt, looking at the picture on it. “It’s an actor named Mark Hapka, not a Horton.”

“Ah know, I’m old. I ain’t senile.” The old lady snapped and grabbed her tee shirt back. “But he plays the last real Horton on m’show. After Miss Alice passed away this year, me ‘n’ the Hortons are like dinosaurs; one breath away from bein’ a horror movie on the SyFy network.”

Vista played with the top button on her blouse. “You got to admit, Vonda. He is a little cutie."

Her sister smiled. “Well, he is adorable.”

“Adorable?” Maw Maw scrunched her nose. “He’s a hottie. That boy’s got the best tushie in Salem. Now they’ve kicked it to the curb.”

The sisters exchanged glances. “Now, Mama you know they just may not have cable in heaven. How you gonna keep up with yer story if you go to heaven and cain’t watch?”

“Don’t be stupid.” The old woman snapped. “’Course they’s got cable. It’s heaven, not a Walmart. Mebbe me and Alice Horton can teach yer Daddy how to match his socks.”

“Maw Maw…” Brod finally said. “Don’t talk like ‘at. You know how much I needs ya here.”

“Yer a growd man, Brod honey. Ya don’t need an’ old lady ‘round no more.”

“Course I do.” Brod kneeled next to the bed and took his Grandmother’s hand. “Who’s gonna he’p me make sure m’ socks don’t clash with m’underwear?”

“I keep tellin’ ya tighie whities go with ever thing and they’s sexy as all get out.”

“Then there’s m’ Daddy comin home outta the blue with another son my age and bein’ the new principal o’ the high school ta boot. I’m a senior Maw Maw, you know that’s gonna ruin homecomin’.”

His Maw Maw took his hand and smiled so dearly. “Broderick baby, life is tough sometimes, but yer young and can handle all the changes. Ya got strength and character. Person’ly I’m just too pooped ta deal with it anymore.”

“But Maw Maw…” Brod started to argue.

She put her withered hand to his lips. “Thank ya kindly fer the shirt. Make sure they bury me in it.”

Brod looked at his mother and aunt defeated.

Vonda picked up the shirt and looked closely at the picture. “Mama, this boy is cute, but they’s much better lookin’ men left in Salem. That man who plays Brady's awful nice on the eyes.”

Maw Maw rolled her eyes. “He’s fine, but he ain’t no Horton.”

“He’s got such a nice chest, and those eyes.” Vonda closed her eyes. “He’s just yummy.”

“He’s sugar cake, Vonda.” Her mother reached for her tee shirt and held it close. "My Nathan Horton’s red velvet…red velvet cake with whip cream!”

“What about Doctor Dan?” Vista closed her eyes and licked her lips. “That man, talk about hot with a great tushy…”

“Great ever thing…” Vonda agreed.

“I don’t get it.” Brod looked up at the women. “What’s all the women sa crazy about that Shawn Christian fer? He’s just a hairy chest slammed down on a bunch a muscles.”

“It’s that smile.” His mother sighed.

“That smile on that face on that body.” His aunt chimed in.

“He’s a slut.” Maw Maw jumped in. “Sure he’s a hunk a man, but the man cain’t keep it in his pants. First that Chelsea girl, young enough ta be his daughter, then Kate that poor girl’s Granmaw mind ja, then Chloe. Mercy, an come ta find out he had a baby with Carly, whom I love but should not be with Bo…that’s just wrong!”

“You know, Bo’s awful good.” Vista suggested.

“I always liked him.” Vonda agreed. “Bad boys just do it fer me.”

“What about Bo, Maw Maw? Ain’t he worth livin’ fer?” Brod hoped.

The old lady curled her lips. “He’s got Hope, you just know they’ll get back tagether. Either that or I’ll come back an’ haunt them people.”

Maw Maw slashed her hand through the air. “Nathan Horton is the best man on that show. I’ve waited forever fer him and that sweet little Melanie to get tagether, an’ if Mark Hapka is a leavin m’show…then that does it. I’m a leavin’ this world!”

“Mama, honey, tomorrow just in case, let’s watch another show. Maybe we’ll find you another sweet face and firm butt to make you wanna live.” Vista smoothed the quilt.

“I’ll watch sumpin else with ya, but at one it’s still “Days of Our Lives”. She determined.

“Fine.” Vista stood up and put the Kleenex box back in the possum. “But I think we’ll watch “The Young and the Restless", too. We watched it a couple of times, remember? You seemed to like it.”

Maw Maw nodded her head. “I liked that little gay man they brought back.”

“That narrows it down.” Brod said under his breath.

“You know the one with the same body but the new face?” The old woman said.

“What?” Her daughter asked.

“You know the one.” Her mother scolded. “He was on the show years ago, then died and they made a big deal when the actor came back.”

“Oh yeah. I know who yer talkin’ about” Vonda chirped. “That Thom Bierdz. He’s a cutie.”

Maw Maw slapped the underside of her chin with the top of her hand. “He’s had a little work done, not that they’s anything wrong with that. They did such a good job on him, if I could afford it I mighta done it m’self.”

Vonda looked at Vista and smiled. “Well, Mama. I got some money. If you wanna have some o’that plastic surgery get yer dress on and I’ll run you right down ta Johnson City and we'll get it done.”

“Aw, that’s sweet child, but no thanks.” Maw Maw sighed. “They’d have ta do sa much nippin and tuckin’ to make me look young agin I could flick out m’navel lint out with m’tongue.”

"You know." Vonda said. "I shouldn't admit this, but I actually like that "One Life Ta Live" mor'n "Days" anyway. You should try that story."

"One Life Ta Live!" Her mother's head spun around. Vista and Brod stepped back knowing pea soup would spew forth any moment. "Get down on your knees and beg God forgiveness child!"

"I knowed I shouldn't a mentioned that." Vonda looked at the floor in mortal shame.

There was another slight knock at the door. It eased open and a familiar but long missing face peeked in.

“Maw Maw?” he said.

“Ronnie?” The old lady reached out her arms and let her other grandson swoop in.

Vonda turned to Vista smiling and whispered. “Told ja, I had another trick up m’sleeve.”

The old lady pushed her grandson back so she could get a good look at him. “When did they let you outta prison?”

“Just this mornin’.” He kept his arm around his grandmother and kissed the top of her mussed gray head.

“El Ronnie…” Vista bent over to give her nephew’s cheek a kiss. “Why didn’t no one tell us.”

“I was gonna.” Vonda said. “But then you tol’ me about Mama, an’ I thought the surprise might be enough to cheer her up.”

“Oh law, it does make me happy.” Maw Maw squeezed her grandson close. “I’m s’glad they decided twus a accident after all.”

“No, Maw Maw.” Ronnie corrected her. “Sorry ta say twernt no accident. Some fool runned over that girl with m’hay bailer on purpose, but they declared me innocent. Said twernt no way possible I coulda done it.”

“I coulda told ‘em that.” Maw Maw said confidently.

“They said she got runned over after that big rain storm an’ if Ronnie’d done it there would been blood on his clothes and the tops a his shoes, not just the bottoms from when he found her.” Vonda announced.

“Yup.” Ronnie smiled. “Between the rain and watchin’ “Days of Our Lives” I gots saved me from another jail term fer murder.”

“Aw, sweetie.” Maw Maw put her head on her grandson’s shoulder. “Nobody liked that first man you kilt.”

“Hey! I got an idea!” Brod piped in. “If they do a TV movie of yer story…” Brod held up the tee shirt he made. “Have Mark Hapka play you!”

“That’s a great idea!” Vista chirped. “He’s so much better than that guy with the Mohawk on ‘Glee’”.

“The dude who plays Nathan Horton?” Ronnie looked at his grandmother. “Is that what’s got ya so upset Maw Maw?”

“He’s leavin’ the show honey.” She sniffed. “I ain’t got no reason ta live.”

“Well, if it’ll make ya happy.” Ronnie told her. “I won’t sign a contract unless he plays me.”

“Ooh!” Vista piped up. “And the girl who plays Jennifer Horton can play the three a us.” She motioned to her sister and her mother.

“Oh she’s a good actress…” Maw Maw smiled. “An’ a real Horton, too!”

“And we’re all natch’ral blondes.” Vonda patted her hair.

“Today…” Brod coughed into his hand.

“You like this Hapka guy, Maw Maw?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes’m. He’s a true Horton and the hottest man in Salem. I’ll still watch ‘til I die, but ain’t got no reason ta live if he ain’t on m’show.”

“Hot?” Ronnie asked. “Ya know, I think if I was a woman I’d be all over that Stefano Dimera…”

“Stefano?” Maw Maw’s jaw dropped. “Land sakes, why on earth would you think that?”

“El Maw Maw, ever time you turn around he’s got another kid comin outta somewhere like cockroaches. He may not know nothin’ ‘bout birth control but ya gotta know he knows how ta satisfy a woman.”

“I never thought ‘bout that.” His grandmother mused.

“Ya know he’s ‘bout yer age…” Vista smiled and her mother giggled.

“I kinda think his newest kid is hot.” Vonda said.

“That Chad?” Maw Maw looked at her. Vonda nodded. “He’s cute, but he ain’t no Nathan. 'Sides they may be dancin’ round it, but I jes know him and that Will Horton is meant ta be.”

“Ooh…Will…” Vonda said. “Have you seen him with his shirt off? If he’s seventeen then I kin believe it’s butter.”

“Maw Maw?” Modene Moretz stuck her head in the door.

“Modene?” The old lady looked up.

“I’m sa sorry.” She apologized as she stepped in. “We knocked and the door was open…”

“Anytime, youngun…you know that.” Vonda gave her niece a hug.

“We?” Maw Maw asked. “Who’s we?”

“I brought a friend.” Modene reached out into the hall and pulled another boy in the crowding little country bedroom.

Brod stood and growled. “What’s he doin’ here?”

“Calm down, Brod.” Modene shushed him. “Ever body this is Jeff Neff.”

“Hello.” The boy said quietly.

“Oh my.” Vonda said.

“You’re my…” Vista said.

“Yes, ma’am. Mac Moretz is my stepfather.”

“Let’s not worry ‘bout all that right now.” Modene stepped right in. “Brod go get yer laptop and bring it here.”

“What?”

“Jest do it. Jeff’s come up with a way to hep Maw Maw.” Modene said. “Now run.”

“No need to hep me girl.” Maw Maw said and then held up the tee shirt. “This was awful purdy. Thank you.”

“Yer welcome.” She kissed her grandmother. “Hey Ronnie, they let you out again?”

“Yup.” Ronnie smiled. “I’ll be a little more careful where I park m’bailer fer a while.”

“Good idea.” Modene smiled.

Brod entered with the laptop. “Okay. Here it is.”

Jeff reached out his hand. “May I?”

Brod held it back a moment. “This is ta help my Maw Maw?”

“Yes.”

Begrudgingly he handed it to him. “Alright then.”

“Thank you.” Jeff took the laptop and laid it on the bed. “Ma’am, do you know anything about computers?”

Maw Maw looked at him. “IBM do you?”

He laughed. “Have you ever tried to use one?”

“Child, I’m too old to mess with such things.”

“Can you read?” He asked.

“Of course I can read…” Maw Maw was almost insulted.

“Can you spell?”

“Mama was a State Spellin’ Bee champ when she was younger.” Vista said with pride.

“Then this will be a piece of cake for you.” Jeff looked at the old lady. “May I?”

Maw Maw motioned for him to sit down. Modene and Ronnie popped up from her bedside and Jeff took their place sliding the lap top around so both he and Maw Maw could see the screen.

“Now Modene told me all about your problem.” Jeff said.

“Problem?” Maw Maw said. “I got it all worked out. NBC’s the one with the problem.”

Jeff smiled. “Well, let me put it this way. You're upset because Mark Hapka is leaving your soap opera and you’ll never see him again, right?”

“Sure ‘nuff.” Maw Maw said. “They brought that boy in and he stole m’heart. Now they’s rippin’ ‘em both out.”

“Well, he’s leaving the show, ma’am, but I found a way so he never has to leave your life.”

“What?” Maw Maw was confused.

“Jeff and I have signed you up for a Twitter account.” Modene smiled.

“A what?”

“Just watch how simple this is.” Jeff said.

He told the old woman what to type in and her face lit up. “Why that’s a pitch’er a me!”

“That’s because it’s your account. See right there…you’re MawMaw#1 on Twitter, and right here where it says followers are Modene and Brod and me. So whatever you type in and send we’ll all be able to read.”

“That’s so sweet child.” Maw Maw said, "But what does this have to do with m’ sweet Nathan Horton?”

“Well over here.” He patiently showed her what to do. “Is a list of people you are following. Anything they type in and send you’ll get to read. Now who’s there?”

Maw Maw slipped the glasses on that Vonda handed her. She cocked her head to see just right. “Let’s see there’s Brod, Modene and that’s you…”

“And…” Modene giggled.

“Law!” Maw Maw said. “That’s that sweet little Melanie from m’soap an…that’s m’boy! That’s m’ sweet lovely Nathan!”

Jeff nodded his head. “And anything he tweets, you can read. You can now know what he does and says even after he’s no longer on your show.”

“That’s jes amazin’!” Maw Maw cooed. “Can I send him a message?”

“Well not unless he’s following you, but you can respond to anything he tweets and he can read that.” Jeff pointed to the screen. “Look he just tweeted “Last week in Salem.”

“Aw…” Someone in the room said.

“Now how to say somethin' back ta him?”

Jeff showed her what to do. “Now you only have 140 characters, but it will tell you if you use too many.”

“Oh good.” Maw Maw pointed to her dresser. “Ya’ll hand me them steak fingers and Vonda run go iron m’ blue dress.”

“Sure Mama. You gonna get outta bed?”

“Course I’m getting’ outta bed.” Her mother chided. “Now ya’ll leave me alone while I write somethin’ to m’Nathan Then I’ll get dressed and we’ll make us some supper.”

“I can hang around a minute in case you have some trouble.” Jeff said.

“That’d be real sweet, Jeff honey.” Maw Maw said. “You jes stay fer dinner so we kin git ta know ya. Now ya’ll git out. Let a old woman have some privacy.”

“Sure Maw Maw…” The crowd all kissed her, Brod and Modene swiping a steak finger and filing happily out into the hall.

The woman in bed sighed and typed for a minute. She looked and read it out loud.

“Dear Mark I will miss you. Your butt makes an old lady remember what its like to be a woman. Love MawMaw#1”

Then she hit send.