It Burns a Lovely Light by penny mccann pennington Page A
Authors: penny mccann pennington
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pace left her no time to think. Order in...hot food
out...refills...complaints...more bread...check, please. By the end of the day she was too worn out to do anything but fall into bed.
Claire shifted her shopping bag and took William's hand as they approached the intersection. At sixteen, his body was still fragile and
childlike, but his long, ill-proportioned feet seemed predisposed to tripping.
"Can I have extra chips in my lunch, for Marcus Shultz?" asked William.
The light changed and they stepped onto the crosswalk. "We'll let Marcus' mother take care of his chips."
William's voice was somber. "Marcus' mother doesn't believe in chips."
Half-way across the street, an elderly man smiled and tipped
his hat. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Sullivan."
Raising her chin, Claire walked on. William tugged on her hand.
"That man said 'Good afternoon' to you! He took off his
hat and everything!"
She continued walking.
"Aunt Claire, you have to say it back! That's not nice!"
"No more talking," snapped Claire. "Not
another word until we get home."
Veda Marie emptied a load of warm, clean laundry onto the drawing room table and turned on the TV. For three peaceful hours a day, she washed, dried, folded, and ironed to the leisurely pace of All My Children, One Life to Live, and General Hospital. A feeling of tranquility came over her as she worked. The walls could be falling down around her, as long as her linens were folded into neat piles and her towels smelled like sunshine. September
called it her personal way of meditating.
September Rose was by far the most interesting boarder at Bridge Manor. Initially, Veda Marie would have put money on Resa Romano, given
that she was a recovering alcoholic and an ex-anorexic, to boot. And no one knew much about Mr. Winston, their most recent boarder. He seemed nice enough, although a bit standoffish for her taste.
September was Bridge Manor's official indoor house painter
and clandestine - or so she thought - resident pot smoker. Her first project had been the old playroom - now Farley's room - on the third floor. After applying a light buttery color, she distressed the walls to give them an aged look. Then she finished off the room by trimming it in an eggplant color, blended with tiny flecks of gold. The result was breathtaking.
The best part about September was how she was with William. Veda Marie smiled, recalling the first time the two met. A few days after he
and Farley arrived, Veda Marie asked him to help gather tomatoes in the garden. Returning from a weekend with friends, September floated down the yard to greet William. He had immediately taken to the girl with the long, free-flowing
skirt, peasant blouse, and bare feet. September was a poster child for healthy living, with her silky strawberry blond hair, and shiny, clear skin. Although, thought Veda Marie, she could do with a little color on her lips. Everything about her - down to the bump on her nose - seemed...true.
"Is September Rose a lie name, too?" asked William.
"It's not the name my parents gave me. My real name is Samantha Rosenstein. I liked September Rose better; so I changed it."
William hugged himself and twisted from side to side as he stared at her feet.
"Walking in bare feet is an invitation to ringworm."
She checked the bottom of her feet. "All clear."
"Are you a hippy?"
"I don't think so. I just got tired of being the penny-loafer, cookie-cutter, Magna cum laude type. After college, I decided to
be more...carefree."
He put a finger in his ear. "You decided ?"
"It took some practice, but I was determined. I even moved to a commune in Vermont for exactly three days. Commune's weren't for
me." She placed a gentle hand on William's cheek, a gesture that usually made him flinch. "I guess you could say I'm trying out a different lifestyle."
"I'm trying out a different lifestyle, too."
Veda Marie busied herself yanking weeds, her heart in shreds.
"I know," said September. "I'm so sorry
out...refills...complaints...more bread...check, please. By the end of the day she was too worn out to do anything but fall into bed.
Claire shifted her shopping bag and took William's hand as they approached the intersection. At sixteen, his body was still fragile and
childlike, but his long, ill-proportioned feet seemed predisposed to tripping.
"Can I have extra chips in my lunch, for Marcus Shultz?" asked William.
The light changed and they stepped onto the crosswalk. "We'll let Marcus' mother take care of his chips."
William's voice was somber. "Marcus' mother doesn't believe in chips."
Half-way across the street, an elderly man smiled and tipped
his hat. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Sullivan."
Raising her chin, Claire walked on. William tugged on her hand.
"That man said 'Good afternoon' to you! He took off his
hat and everything!"
She continued walking.
"Aunt Claire, you have to say it back! That's not nice!"
"No more talking," snapped Claire. "Not
another word until we get home."
Veda Marie emptied a load of warm, clean laundry onto the drawing room table and turned on the TV. For three peaceful hours a day, she washed, dried, folded, and ironed to the leisurely pace of All My Children, One Life to Live, and General Hospital. A feeling of tranquility came over her as she worked. The walls could be falling down around her, as long as her linens were folded into neat piles and her towels smelled like sunshine. September
called it her personal way of meditating.
September Rose was by far the most interesting boarder at Bridge Manor. Initially, Veda Marie would have put money on Resa Romano, given
that she was a recovering alcoholic and an ex-anorexic, to boot. And no one knew much about Mr. Winston, their most recent boarder. He seemed nice enough, although a bit standoffish for her taste.
September was Bridge Manor's official indoor house painter
and clandestine - or so she thought - resident pot smoker. Her first project had been the old playroom - now Farley's room - on the third floor. After applying a light buttery color, she distressed the walls to give them an aged look. Then she finished off the room by trimming it in an eggplant color, blended with tiny flecks of gold. The result was breathtaking.
The best part about September was how she was with William. Veda Marie smiled, recalling the first time the two met. A few days after he
and Farley arrived, Veda Marie asked him to help gather tomatoes in the garden. Returning from a weekend with friends, September floated down the yard to greet William. He had immediately taken to the girl with the long, free-flowing
skirt, peasant blouse, and bare feet. September was a poster child for healthy living, with her silky strawberry blond hair, and shiny, clear skin. Although, thought Veda Marie, she could do with a little color on her lips. Everything about her - down to the bump on her nose - seemed...true.
"Is September Rose a lie name, too?" asked William.
"It's not the name my parents gave me. My real name is Samantha Rosenstein. I liked September Rose better; so I changed it."
William hugged himself and twisted from side to side as he stared at her feet.
"Walking in bare feet is an invitation to ringworm."
She checked the bottom of her feet. "All clear."
"Are you a hippy?"
"I don't think so. I just got tired of being the penny-loafer, cookie-cutter, Magna cum laude type. After college, I decided to
be more...carefree."
He put a finger in his ear. "You decided ?"
"It took some practice, but I was determined. I even moved to a commune in Vermont for exactly three days. Commune's weren't for
me." She placed a gentle hand on William's cheek, a gesture that usually made him flinch. "I guess you could say I'm trying out a different lifestyle."
"I'm trying out a different lifestyle, too."
Veda Marie busied herself yanking weeds, her heart in shreds.
"I know," said September. "I'm so sorry
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