Listen To Me Honey

By Fay Risner

Eighth grader, Amanda Craftton bent to peer pressure. She slipped away from school at lunch time with her friends. They went to the mall to get tattoos. Afterward, one of the friends invites the girls to go home with her to sample a beer. The time got away from them, making them late for math class. The teacher sent them to the principal's office for a tardy slip. The principal smelled beer on the girls' breath and suspended the girls from school for the last six weeks of the term. Amanda's parents don't seem to be able to make Amanda understand what she did was wrong. Her mother, Iris, decides to send Amanda south to Arkansas. She has to live with her grandparents on their farm for the summer in Pleasant Valley without many modern conveniences. Amanda's parents hope the elderly couple's no nonsense ways will teach Amanda a better path to follow. Living with her grandparents, Amanda certainly knows when she goofs, because Grandma Tansy is quick with a lecture that starts “Listen to me, Honey.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fay Risner
• Release date: Dec 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311848246

Fay Risner

Fay Risner lives with her husband on a central Iowa acreage along with their chickens, rabbits, goats and cats. A retired Certified Nurse Aide, she now divides her time between writing books, livestock chores, working in her flower beds, the garden and going fishing with her husband. In the winter, she makes quilts. Fay writes books in various genre and languages. Historical mystery series like Stringbean westerns and Amazing Gracie Mysteries, Nurse Hal's Amish series set in southern Iowa and books for Caregivers about Alzheimer's. She uses 12 font print in her books and 14 font print in her novellas to make them reader friendly. Now her books are in Large Print. Her books have a mid western Iowa and small town flavor. She pulls the readers into her stories, making it hard for them to put a book down until the reader sees how the story ends. Readers say the characters are fun to get to know and often humorous enough to cause the readers to laugh out loud. The books leave readers wanting a sequel or a series so they can read about the characters again. Enjoy Fay Risner's books and please leave a review to make others familiar with her work.

Book preview

Listen To Me Honey

By author

Fay Risner

Cover Art

Pleasant Valley Church, Mammoth Springs, Ark. picture taken by Fay Risner

All rights reserved 12/2014

Published by Fay Risner at Smashwords.com

Copyright (c) 2018

All Rights Reserved

By Fay Risner

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locals are entirely coincidental. Excerpts from this book cannot be used without written permission from the author.

Booksby fay Publisher

author, editor and publisher Fay Risner

This book is dedicated to Minnie Risner. Pleasant Valley Church, Mammoth Springs, Arkansas served as a school, church, voting place and community center for many years. It was a big part of her life for years.

This book was expanded from a short story I wrote for the Arkansas Writers' Conference titled Listen To Me Honey.

Chapter Nine was taken from my short story A Walk On The Wild Side entered in 2006 Arkansas Writers' Conference AR Center for the Book Award contest and awarded second honorable mention.

Chapter Eleven was taken from a short short story The Threesome entered in 2005 Arkansas Writers' Conference Lucille R. Longstreth Memorial Award and received second place.

Chapter One

Late one April afternoon, Tansy Craftton rode with her husband, Art, in his old blue pickup. They were headed to the bus stop in Saddle, Arkansas to pick up their granddaughter, Amanda.

This idea better work for Amanda, Art. There’s no other reason I’d consent to gettin' into this death trap of yers. I'm too old to be jarred up this way when we own a perfectly good Regal Buick, she grumbled.

Tansy swiped the stray sprigs of white hair escaping from the coiled braid on the back of her neck. When she got excited, her voice creaked like two branches rubbing together in a high wind.

Art usually joked or tried to reason with his wife to settle her down. You're just nervous, worrying about a youngun in the house after all these years. I understand how ya feel. It's been a right smart time since Jeff and his friends were underfoot all the time.

Tansy nodded. Almost twenty years I expect.

Maybe by the time this experiment is over y'all will learn somethin' about havin' a girl around, claimed Art, winking.

Tansy crossed her arms over her green, homemade, cotton dress defiantly. I'm learnin' all right. I've learned in a hurry the car is much more comfortable to ride in on these rough roads then this rattle trap rig.

I reckon it might be, Art conceded quietly. But I'm kind of fond of Old Blue.

Tansy was on a roll. Another thing I've learned. I should know better than to let that daughter-in-law of ours sucker me into taking Amanda during spring break. I take myself for a fool every time I think about how Iris said if we could do any better with the girl to go right ahead and try. I should have let well enough alone. Amanda's problems are Jeff and Iris's to solve.

I think it might have been what ya said before that ya shouldn't have, Art muttered. It upset Iris.

All I said was the truth. Our son and his wife shouldn't have spoiled the child by buying her anything she wanted. They wouldn't have so much trouble out of her now when they tell her no.

Too late now to change what Amanda's parents did in the past. They tried to be good parents to the child, but their way backfired. No reason we cain't try to he'p them out. The girl's just thirteen. Maybe we can he'p her see things a little differently. How long does spring break last?

Iris didn't say. She took me by surprise. I forgot to ask. Reckon Amanda knows when she has to go back, Tansy said.

Yip, we'll ask the girl. Ah, there she is. The bus has done come and gone. Wonder how long that poor girl had to wait on the sidewalk by herself? Art pulled over to the curb. We could have made it here at least a half hour earlier if the preacher hadn't been so long-winded.

Don't complain about listenin' to a long sermon. Just be lucky we have a preacher. Some small churches don't ya know, Tansy scolded.

A dark-haired girl, in a scanty, red tank top and hip hugger jeans, paced in front of the bus stop sign. Her ponytail swung back and forth with each agitated turn of her head.

That girl's clothes must have cost a small fortune, Art surmised.

All Tansy managed was to nod and frown. She didn't like one little bit what she saw when she scrutinized her granddaughter. She was close enough to see makeup and eyeshadow plastered thick on the girl's face. Close enough to spot her granddaughter’s belly button in plain sight under the tank top. A Jordache label was clearly readable on her hip hugger jeans when Amanda turned her back to the street.

With what she saw, the elderly woman worried even more about taking on the responsibility of her granddaughter. Laws a mercy, Arthur, get that girl in this rig quick before anyone we know comes by and figures out she's related to us. She ain't got half enough clothes on to be decent in public.

Tansy couldn't believe she was kin to the girl pacing on the sidewalk like a wild animal. She hated knowing she had a granddaughter that wouldn't mind anyone and dressed like a hussy. I'm staying right here. Y'all get her in the pickup. She folded her arms over herself and slid to the middle of the seat, waiting for Art to get out and greet the girl.

Art ambled around the front of the pickup. He smiled and stuck a thumb behind the strap attached to his blue bib overalls. In a husky, slow southern drawl, he said, Afternoon, Mandie. Got a hug fer yer grandpa?

Amanda's eyes darted from the old pickup to the elderly man. Her expression was puzzlement when she put her arms around his neck for just a second and quickly stepped away.

Yer grandma and me have been lookin' forward to yer visit. Hop in, and let’s go fer home, Art said, waving a thumb toward the pickup.

Amanda studied the gray-haired, elderly man. It had been a long time since she'd seen her grandparents. Grandpa moved fairly fast for an old guy.

She wanted to correct him about her name, but she thought she better let that go for now. She didn't need to get off on the wrong foot with him right away. It was just that she lived so far from them, she really didn't know how to act or what to say around her grandparents.

A large, black dog stood up in the back of the pickup and stretched. He sniffed in Amanda's direction. She reached out to pat him. What a nice dog! Come here, boy.

The dog growled and backed to the opposite side of the pickup bed.

Art warned, Put yer hand down easy, girl. Don't try to make friends right off with that old mutt. He don't warm up to strangers real fast. Art shook his finger at the dog. Jubel, ya shouldn't act that way. This girl just wants to be friendly. The sharpness in Art's voice made the dog whine. He flopped down and eyed Amanda.

"Hop on in, Mandie. We'll have plenty of time to work on that dog's manners