Another gloomy day came and went for Old Sara.  She swept the dust from the porch and spent the day with her son and his sons.  This time, Sophie hadn’t come.  Apparently, she’d been too upset by her new mother-in-law’s behavior of the Sunday before. 

“She’s too fussy, Marcus,” Sara had told her son.  “She’ll never be strong enough to handle anything if she can’t handle me.” 

That was it.  She spoke plainly, slapped him on the back and walked into the house to get the pitcher of lemonade from the kitchen counter.  For though the clouds were thick- the hot, muggy air was thicker.

Sara never really thought much of Marcus’s first wife, either.  She was a flighty little thing with blond hair and blue eyes.  She was thin just like Sophie was; something that Sara frowned upon.  Sara wasn’t overweight herself, but she had a tendency to be plump, round in the right spots- at least according to her own opinions.  Sara wasn’t surprised or even a little sad when the first wife left.  She just helped them pick up their lives and they all moved on.

“Hasn’t a day gone by that I haven’t thought of that Sydney girl.  What ever came of her, anyway?  Marcus?  Are you listening to me, son?” she demanded.  She’d stopped her sweeping to speak to him for the first time in such a long time.  And truth be told, he’d been ignoring her completely.

“Marcus!” she shouted.  He jerked his head around, having been caught completely by surprise.  She hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him when she swept the dust from the porch in several years.  And she’d only talked of his father at those times, so there was really no need to listen to her.

“Yes, Momma.  I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you were saying.  What was that again?” he asked. 

Clearly irritated at having to repeat herself, Sara again recited her feelings about the absence of Sydney, his first wife and the mother of his children.

“I don’t know, Momma.  Haven’t heard a word from her since she left us.  That was more than three years ago.  Huh, time passes quickly, doesn’t it?” he said.  He turned to face her, watching for her reaction, but got none; Sara simply turned and continued sweeping.

“Gotta get this dust away from the porch before Papa comes,” she stated.  To herself, she muttered, “Wonder what came of the skinny little thing anyway.”

Marcus turned away, walking the boys into the living room where they wouldn’t hear any more talk about their mother.  She’d left without so much as a word to any of them and been gone for far too long.  Now, he felt more hatred for her than anything else.  He suddenly wondered what he’d do if she ever showed up again- and without realizing it, set in motion a chain of events that would answer that very question.

On the east side of the porch sat Duke, the old coon hound.  It was this tired, lazy old dog that everyone ignored who would give more information to Sara’s wondering.  More so than anyone else, anyway.