Everyone Has a Story

By Rosie Moore

These stories were written over ten years and were based on true events that I have turned into fictional stories for the entertainment of my readers. Each story is exceptional in their own way. By the end of this book, the reader will have experienced laughter and sadness along with a realization that all these events can happen to anyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728340692

Rosie Moore

Rosie enjoys reading, people, and spending time with her grandchildren and great grandchildren. She started writting at a young age. In the last decade, people suggested she try to get her writting published and she had since published three books. Rosie grew up in Lancaster, PA. for the first 46 years of her life, before she moved to Knoxville, TN, where she currently resides surrounded by her loving family.

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© 2020 Rosie Moore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/10/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4070-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4069-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

I

want to dedicate this book to my granddaughter Megan.

Thank you for being here for me.

Contents

A Love Story

The Tomato Story

Another Love Story

Paula and Letty

The Lost Card

A Woman’s Story

The Cowboy

What Price Deception?

A Flawed Life

A Love Story

T he hot sun bore down on Beth’s shoulders. She stood straight and tall on the pedals of her bike, coasting down the incline of South Duke Street headed for Vine Street and the red light there. Her honey-brown hair waved like a banner behind her head in the breeze. She wasn’t very tall, but she was as slim as a reed, which made her seem taller than she really was. She had on a pair of khaki pants and a v necked white sleeveless shirt. She only wore shorts at home. It was the middle of August.

At the red light at Duke and Vine Streets she made a right turn then she made an abrupt left onto a dirt alleyway. A few yards down the Coke Place was located. Think of Arnold’s in Happy Days, only this was much smaller. The only things sold there were hamburgers, hot-dogs, chips, and soda. It had always been called the Coke Place, no one ever heard it being called anything else.

Adjacent to the Coke Place was a lean-to supported by three poles, which had a tin roof. It was open on three sides and the fourth side was closed in. Underneath the roof was a big red coke box where the drinks were kept locked up until they went inside. This was the meeting place for a bunch of guys who would stop there on their way home from school or work and who were just hanging around. There were five guys who hung around there regularly. Dan Hershey, Mark Weaver, Paul Rohrer, Hank Martin, and, of course, Johnny Kramer. They would horse around a little bit but mostly would just talk.

Johnny was, more or less, the all-around guy. Everyone liked him. He would listen to the other guys’ problems and try to help them out whenever he could. Today he had on a white shirt, which was unbuttoned at his tan neck and gray trousers, and his gray jacket was slung over his shoulder. He worked in his father’s book-store after school and on Saturdays. He really liked the work and was glad he had a job, it gave him some extra money to spend.

When Beth rode down the alleyway, a swirl of dust followed her. She slammed the bike down on the ground, ran into the Coke Place. In a few minutes she came back out, took a deep breath, then raised the bottle to her lips and took a swallow. The guys under the roof watched her with half-closed eyes. Johnny was in his favorite position, one leg up on an old orange crate, chewing on a toothpick, laconically observing everything. When Beth raised the bottle to her mouth, a drop of moisture fell onto her chin. Slowly it worked its way under her chin, ever so slowly it worked its way downward. It traveled down her neck towards the v in her shirtwaist. The guys leaned forward a little bit. Their mouths were halfway opened, and their eyes bulged. Slowly, slowly the dewy drop traveled down her chest. Just when it reached the v, it landed on her shirt. You could almost hear the inaudible sigh of disappointment from the guys.

Johnny gave a little smile and ambled over to the bike which Beth had now picked up. He straddled the front wheel and leaned against the handlebars.

Hi. He said.

Hi, Johnny, Beth answered brightly.

Ah, ha, so you know my name?

Sure, she answered, and I know your mother and father, too.

Johnny wasn’t sure what to make of this. How do you know them? he asked.

Beth looked at him mischievously and said, If you would go to church more often, you would have seen me there! Johnny’s father was the minister of her church.

Johnny watched her as she talked. She had the most perfect white teeth he had ever seen. They looked like tiny kernels of white corn of the cob, glistening with dew. He wondered what it would be like to take his tongue and lick those teeth in her mouth. No, no, he mustn’t think like that. He brushed the thought away quickly.

Hm-m-m. It looks like I better go to church more often. I’m really missing a lot.

Might do you some good, Johnny, she said with a laugh.

Actually, Beth didn’t know this, but Johnny had noticed her the few times he was in church. There was something about her that drew him. The first time he saw her his heart skipped a beat. Deep inside of him was the realization that she was the one for him. But he didn’t hurry things along. He bided his time. He wasn’t quite sure. As time went by, he was certain that he believed in love at first sight.

Suddenly, he came around the side of the bike, lifted her honey-brown hair and started to plant little kisses along her jaw.

She stiffened and hissed through those pearly teeth, what do you think you’re doing?

Kissing you, he murmured.

But you can’t do that.

Why not? he asked.

"I could give you lots of reasons but I can only think of two right now.

Hm_m_m, and they are?

Number one, I don’t really know you—

That’s going to change right now, he interjected.

Number two, this is a public place, she glanced around nervously.

You mean, if we weren’t in public, I could do this?

Suddenly, she reared back. Uh, oh, he really did it now. The guys under the roof snickered softly.

She got on her bike and pedaled so fast out of there a huge cloud of dust followed her.

Johnny sauntered back to the lean-to and said, leave your hands off that one, she’s mine.

Hey, wait a minute, how come you get all the gals. We never have a chance when you’re around, the guys grumbled.

All the girls? he queried. He picked up his jacket and threw it over his shoulder.

I’ve only dated two, one from school, and one from church.

Mark Weaver said. Well, maybe you’re going to marry this one, but I am taking her out this Saturday night.

Johnny jerked his head in Mark’s direction and said quietly, Oh, yeah, where are you taking her?

She wants to go see the play at her high school.

Just be careful, Johnny said as he walked down the dusty alley.

Johnny was very slender with dark brown way hair and dark brown eyes. Occasionally a lock of hair would fall on his forehead and he would have to whip his head back to get it out of his eyes. He was a gentle person, with as little rebellious streak inside of him. He would slip out of church while his father was preaching and take in a movie which was about a half a block away. He always got back just when the service was over.

Saturday night Mark and Beth were sitting on the far side of the high school auditorium listening to the Glee Club sing Oh, What A Beautiful Morning from the musical, Oklahoma. When out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw the exit door move slightly. Then it opened and she saw Johnny’s head peering through the crack. When he saw her, he motioned for her to come out into the hallway. With a sigh, she told Mark she would be back in a few minutes.

When she was in the hall, she whispered, what do you think you’re doing?

I’m just making sure you’re OK, that’s all. He looked at her intently.

Why wouldn’t I be OK? You’re not my keeper, you know.

He shrugged his shoulders. I know. I just wanted to make sure, that’s all.

He stood there for a moment as if he was unsure what to do next. Then he suddenly grabbed her shoulders and bruised her lips with a kiss so hard that when she went back in the auditorium, her eyes were glistening with tears. He let her go abruptly, and murmured, I’m sorry, then ran down the hallway. He could have kicked himself. That was a kiss of anger, of desperation, which was unusual for him. He never felt like this before.

The next night was Sunday and Beth sat in the church pew, waiting, waiting. She knew exactly when he came in the door and sat in the pew behind her, even though she didn’t turn around. Later, a piece of paper rolled on the seat beside her. It seemed to burn a hole in the palm of her hand when she picked it up. After the service was over, she slipped out the door as fast as she could and walked up the street towards her home. When she came to a street- light she opened her palm and smoothed out the paper. It said, my wife. please be my wife. You are my life, my wife. She could feel her cheeks get pink and she looked around guiltily even though no one was near her. She walked the rest of the way home thoughtfully.

Wednesday evening was Youth Group night. Afterward, Dan Hershey, Mark, and Hank Martin, Beth, and two other girls piled into Dan’s pickup truck and they went to the Coke Place for snacks. They were sitting in a booth when Johnny walked in. He came over to the booth, said hi to everyone then turned to Beth and said, may I talk to you?

She said, sure, go ahead.

I’d like to talk to you alone, he said.

She couldn’t resist the entreaty in his eyes. She got up and went outside with him. There was a harvest moon and the air rustled gently around them. Beth gave a little shiver and suddenly wished there was someone she could enjoy the moon with. But not this guy!

Well, what do you want?

I just wanted to apologize for what I did Saturday night. I don’t know why I did it.

I don’t know either, Beth said, looking into his eyes. "I hope it won’t happen again. In fact, I’ve forgotten about it. Ha! That was a laugh! She thought about it every minute. That kiss left a little bruise on her lips.

Well, look, may I walk you home?

No, I came with Mark and the rest, they will drop me off. she walked away. Johnny looked at her uncertainly then he walked away too.

Down deep Beth was very attracted to Johnny. She didn’t want to admit it but the first day she saw him in church she wanted to be his girl. It was hard to accept the fact that they got off on the wrong foot and she wasn’t sure how to straighten things out.

For three weeks Johnny didn’t come to church. Beth waited in vain for him to appear, but it seemed as if he had forgotten all about her. She felt lonely then wondered why she felt that way. This was a frustrating time for her. Being sixteen and in love wasn’t very thrilling, after all.

The following Wednesday evening the rain was coming down heavily. A group of them went to the Coke Place as usual. In a few minutes Johnny drove up in his father’s car. He didn’t come in but sat there for a few minutes. Then he started to drive away and as he did Beth saw a round-faced, beady-eyed girl in the seat beside him. Johnny looked at the girl and said something to her then they both looked at Beth and laughed. Beth felt so humiliated, angry, and so hurt. She vowed that she would never have anything to do with Johnny again.

He was in church the following Sunday. Beth could feel his eyes piercing her back, but she gave no notice of him. As soon as possible she left and started to walk home. She went to the Coke Place a few times and he was always there, leaning against one of the posts of the tin roof. One night he accosted her and said, Look, I thought we had an understanding? He looked so melancholy and his brown eyes bored into hers.

Understanding? What do you mean, understanding? Beth was puzzled.

You know it’s you and me, don’t you? Ever since I’ve seen you, well, you know…..

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Beth answered. Her heart was thumping wildly. She really didn’t know what he was talking about. She could only imagine. Did he expect her to quit running around with other people and sit and wait until he decided what to do—or what? He couldn’t waltz into her life and expect her to jump into his arms—but, oh, how she wanted to!

One Sunday evening things changed. She started walking home and heard his footsteps behind her.

When he came abreast of her, he gently took her hand. Immediately she felt the warmth of it and felt so safe