Masen to Mia
Mia
“Masen,” I said, turning to my very best friend in the whole wide world. “I will help you. Now sit down, pour us some wine, and stop whining. This’ll be fine.”
Masen glared.
“Make sure you specify in there that I’m a woman, not a man. I don’t want to pick up the wrong orientation. I’m desperate here. I could almost do that mail order bride thing,” Masen joked.
She looked almost out of place in my house. Her designer clothes looked so much more fashionable than mine. Even now that we were both making the same amount.
I guess it was the ingrained knowledge I’d been raised with that anything could happen and that I shouldn’t spend my money on frivolous things, like a pair of two-hundred-dollar pants.
Mom and Dad had been barely making it with their two salaries, and when two salaries suddenly became one, we weren’t making it anymore.
Hence the reason why we’d moved to Kilgore, Texas, hoping it would be easier for us both to live off of Mom’s smaller, single income.
For the most part it worked, but we still had to make sacrifices that other kids would never have to make.
“More wine?” Masen asked.
I looked down at my now empty glass and winced.
“No,” I said. “I better not. I haven’t had anything to drink in a long time. I fear I’ve become a lightweight.”
I wasn’t counting the night with Tai and his brother and sister-in-law.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I just plain couldn’t remember it.
Surely that meant it didn’t count, right?
Masen stared at me in horror.
“No!” She exclaimed.
I grinned.
“Yeah. Pretty depressing, huh?” I said, typing in the website Masen had told me about earlier in the evening.
Masen had been on a backpacking trip to exotic faraway place…okay, she really went to North Carolina, but that was pretty darn far away from her home state of Texas.
She’d been gone for a little over a month helping out people who had been displaced by flooding after a hurricane. She was doing clean up and helping with temporary housing.
Secretly, I felt that under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have done it.
But her parents owned a huge chain store, and they had a big hand in community outreach programs worldwide.
Since she was, technically speaking, a part of their company, she was expected to go to places where her face would be seen. And sometimes that meant going somewhere that she normally wouldn’t ever go.
“Okay…,” Masen started. “Tell them that I like whiskey.”
I blinked turning only my head to glare at her.
“You can’t start off with ‘I like whiskey’,” I said. “You have to start off with something like…,” I hesitated, “I’m a country girl, looking for a God fearing, country boy that loves to get dirty, but doesn’t hate getting cleaned up, either.”
“Okay,” she said. “But make sure you put that I like beer in there, and I’m not a martini kind of girl.”
“Maybe I should just tell him that you’re an alcoholic,” I muttered.
Masen punched me.
“Alright,” I muttered, typing with my tongue between my teeth as I let my fingers carry me away.
“And make sure you tell him that I like to read, so he won’t get disappointed,” Masen urged.
“Why would he be disappointed?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Masen was an avid book reader, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to get so lost in her fictional character’s world, that she would ignore her real life world in the process.
I smiled.
I’m a country girl, looking for a God-fearing, country boy who loves to get dirty but doesn’t hate getting cleaned up, either. I’m not interested in partying and staying out all night, unless it’s wrapped up in a blanket, standing in front of a bonfire with a beer in my hand. I need a man that’s not offended by my mouth, because when my Dallas Cowboys are losing, I tend to lose control of it.
I’m a simple girl at heart that loves being on horseback,
Mia
“Masen,” I said, turning to my very best friend in the whole wide world. “I will help you. Now sit down, pour us some wine, and stop whining. This’ll be fine.”
Masen glared.
“Make sure you specify in there that I’m a woman, not a man. I don’t want to pick up the wrong orientation. I’m desperate here. I could almost do that mail order bride thing,” Masen joked.
She looked almost out of place in my house. Her designer clothes looked so much more fashionable than mine. Even now that we were both making the same amount.
I guess it was the ingrained knowledge I’d been raised with that anything could happen and that I shouldn’t spend my money on frivolous things, like a pair of two-hundred-dollar pants.
Mom and Dad had been barely making it with their two salaries, and when two salaries suddenly became one, we weren’t making it anymore.
Hence the reason why we’d moved to Kilgore, Texas, hoping it would be easier for us both to live off of Mom’s smaller, single income.
For the most part it worked, but we still had to make sacrifices that other kids would never have to make.
“More wine?” Masen asked.
I looked down at my now empty glass and winced.
“No,” I said. “I better not. I haven’t had anything to drink in a long time. I fear I’ve become a lightweight.”
I wasn’t counting the night with Tai and his brother and sister-in-law.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I just plain couldn’t remember it.
Surely that meant it didn’t count, right?
Masen stared at me in horror.
“No!” She exclaimed.
I grinned.
“Yeah. Pretty depressing, huh?” I said, typing in the website Masen had told me about earlier in the evening.
Masen had been on a backpacking trip to exotic faraway place…okay, she really went to North Carolina, but that was pretty darn far away from her home state of Texas.
She’d been gone for a little over a month helping out people who had been displaced by flooding after a hurricane. She was doing clean up and helping with temporary housing.
Secretly, I felt that under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have done it.
But her parents owned a huge chain store, and they had a big hand in community outreach programs worldwide.
Since she was, technically speaking, a part of their company, she was expected to go to places where her face would be seen. And sometimes that meant going somewhere that she normally wouldn’t ever go.
“Okay…,” Masen started. “Tell them that I like whiskey.”
I blinked turning only my head to glare at her.
“You can’t start off with ‘I like whiskey’,” I said. “You have to start off with something like…,” I hesitated, “I’m a country girl, looking for a God fearing, country boy that loves to get dirty, but doesn’t hate getting cleaned up, either.”
“Okay,” she said. “But make sure you put that I like beer in there, and I’m not a martini kind of girl.”
“Maybe I should just tell him that you’re an alcoholic,” I muttered.
Masen punched me.
“Alright,” I muttered, typing with my tongue between my teeth as I let my fingers carry me away.
“And make sure you tell him that I like to read, so he won’t get disappointed,” Masen urged.
“Why would he be disappointed?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Masen was an avid book reader, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to get so lost in her fictional character’s world, that she would ignore her real life world in the process.
I smiled.
I’m a country girl, looking for a God-fearing, country boy who loves to get dirty but doesn’t hate getting cleaned up, either. I’m not interested in partying and staying out all night, unless it’s wrapped up in a blanket, standing in front of a bonfire with a beer in my hand. I need a man that’s not offended by my mouth, because when my Dallas Cowboys are losing, I tend to lose control of it.
I’m a simple girl at heart that loves being on horseback,
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