Great Strides: Growing Roots, #3

By Chelsea Falin

Willie is dedicated towards making great strides within herself.


Willie has finally found her father, and he's welcomed her with open arms. Now she must forge a relationship with the man she never even knew was alive. It isn't just him, however, Willie must also find out how she fits in with her step-mother and half-siblings. Left in Alabama with no close-in-age peers, Willie makes great strides in finding out who she is as an individual without a group of close friends to rely on.


Alabama offers many firsts for Willie. The most notable in her own mind is her first relationship. There are other firsts in store, however, and a whole new cast of characters to get to know. How will Willie handle this newest experience? Will she handle it in the mature the way she has always handled change? Or will this be the point in which Willie loses herself?


"Genetics are a tricky business at times, and you just never know what you're going to get when you throw two ancestry's together."
-Willie's Mamaw

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chelsea Falin
• Release date: Oct 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201958909

Book preview

Great

Strides

By: Chelsea Falin

Great Strides

Growing Roots Series, Volume Three

Chelsea Falin

© 2014 Chelsea Falin

ISBN: 1490958312

ISBN 13: 978-1490958316

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All matter contained within this book is a work of fiction. Any likenesses to real people or events is strictly coincidence, and should not be assumed to be fact. All story lines and characters contained within this book are a work of the authors imagination, and is copyrighted material.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. By purchasing this book you agree to the above terms. If a violation of the above terms is committed, the transgressor will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

Foreword

Halito. Ant Chukoa.

This book is dedicated to the memory of my dearly departed mother, Opal Shelton, who inspired me to write and believed in my ability to do so. It is also dedicated to the memory of my dearly departed cousin, Patricia Davis-Young, who recently passed from this life to the next.

I would also like to dedicate this book to my husband, Bobby, and daughter, Vikki Beth. To my sisters, Cory and Brandi,  my fathers, John & Darrell, my step mother, Sharon, and my friends (Tyler, Kenny, Nikki).They have supported me in their own ways along my journey, and without their help I'd be nothing. 

Of course, I must thank my wonderful readers. You make the hours I pour into each novel worthwhile, and can brighten my day with a single review or comment.

Thank you.

The American Indian is of the soil, whether it be the region of forests, plains, pueblos, or mesas. He fits into the landscape, for the hand that fashioned the continent also fashioned the man for his surroundings. He once grew as naturally as the wild sunflowers, he belongs just as the buffalo belonged...

-Luther Standing Bear, Oglala Sioux

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Chapter One

It took nearly two day's of lazy travel to reach my father's home in southern Alabama. We took our time, stopping often to stretch, eat, and use the restroom. Anxiety had not plagued me along the trip as I'd assumed. Now that we had actually arrived at our destination, however, it hit me full force. My stomach was in knots; my heart felt trapped in my throat, making it difficult to breath or swallow. Unnerving questions ran through my mind. What if my step mother or half siblings didn't like me? What if my dad decided he didn't want me around after all? I tried to squelch those thoughts, knowing they were no good for me. Trying to get hold of my turbulent emotions, I hesitantly stepped out of the truck.

My father had pulled his old truck into the yard of a modest one story home with a generous lot. The house was obviously old, but just as obviously well taken care of. An enormous porch was attached to the front, sporting an entire table with four chairs on the left. On the right a porch swing sat stock still. There was no wind to push it. The yard boasted a wide array of beautiful flowers in all different shapes, colors, and sizes. An red bone coonhound lounged in the yard, not bothering to rise  from his spot in front of the steps to bark at us.

My dad came up behind me and stood there, smiling. He looked first at his home, then at me. You ready?

I smiled. Yeah, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this.

He laughed. I swung my backpack over one shoulder as we began walking towards the house. We stopped to open a white picket gate. Once we were actually inside the fence the coonhound decided he had better act interested. He ran up, tail wagging, and sniffed me all over as I tried to walk. The effect was a slow shamble on my own behalf as I tried to avoid tripping.

Does he bite?

Dad shook his head. No, he doesn't really bark or bite or anything anymore. He's an old dog.

I nodded, slowly reaching down to pat the old dogs bony head. He repaid me with a huge slobbery lick on my hand. I grimaced, wiping the drool on my jeans. Once we made it to the porch, my dad pushed open the screen door. I followed him inside. We found ourselves in a comfortably furnished and rather small living room. It held a brown overstuffed couch, loveseat, and armchair set, a small entertainment center with glass doors, two end tables, and one coffee table.

I'm home. My dad called out, setting my bags on the couch. I followed suit and set down my backpack.

We're in the kitchen, I heard a woman's voice, strong and sure, call out from the back of the house.

My dad jerked his head in the direction of the voice, indicating I should follow. We made our way down a hallway, passing four doors as we did. I was quickly told what was behind each door as we passed. One was a bathroom, and three were bedrooms. At the end of the hallway was a brightly lit kitchen decorated in a sunny yellow. At a table in the middle of the room were three children- all noticeably younger than I was. A slightly plump, dark haired woman with a sense of busyness exuding from her stood at the kitchen sink with her back to us.

Daddy! The two youngest kids- both girls- yelled, leaving the table and making their way towards their father... our father.... with an enthusiasm reserved only for the very young.

The boy was obviously older, and much more reserved in his greeting. He walked slowly up to dad, and gave him a quick hug. At twelve, my younger half-brother, Will, was perhaps only an inch shorter than me. My brother was also the first to approach me. I had been standing awkwardly in the background, unsure of what to do or where I fit into this scene- if at all. He smiled. We almost have the same name. He grinned openly at the shock I experienced upon hearing his voice. I had expected that of a young boy, but he already had the voice of a man, deep and melodic.

I laughed awkwardly at his flat statement. Yeah, I guess we do.

We're both named after dad. Despite being a little unsure of how to take Will's strange mannerism, I was strangely relieved to hear him say 'dad' instead of 'my dad.' It was a small thing that meant a lot to me in my current situation.

Yeah.

It's good to finally meet you. He said. Do you want something to eat or drink? His manners were impeccable. My father, as it turned out, did a great job at raising children. I couldn't help but wonder what his influence might have been on my own childhood and mannerisms had things worked out a different way.

I shook my head, No, but thank you.

Will just nodded and walked back to where he had been sitting. The two little girls came up next. Both were small in stature like myself, and obviously my sisters. The older had light colored hair like my own, and green eyes. The younger had dark black hair and brown eyes. Both, however, had porcelain colored skin and small round faces resembling my own.

Hi, my name's Violet, the green eyed girl said.

And my name's Carrie. the dark haired girl added.

Hi, I'm Willie. I said smiling.

Violet nodded, We know. You're our long lost sister!

Carrie added, That's what momma and daddy told us!

Uh huh, Violet was talking again, and we're real excited for you to come here. Momma says you're gonna be a real normal part of our family.

Uh huh, Carrie broke into the conversation again, it's just like a fairytale!

I chuckled softly. Well, I certainly hope it's just like a fairytale. A fairytale would be much better than a nightmare.

Violet smiled. Oh, we'll make sure of it!

I smiled warmly at their contagious enthusiasm. From behind them dad called, Girls, why don't you go play for a few minutes and let Willie settle herself in before you wear her out?

The girls nodded. They gave me quick, surprising hugs, and ran out of the kitchen giggling. My dad smiled fondly as he watched them run off before introducing the woman he currently had his arm around. Willie, I'd like you to meet my wife, Vallera.

The woman smiled at me, her light brown eyes shimmering with genuine happiness. Hi Willie. It's so good to finally meet you. She broke from my father and swept me up in her strong, matronly arms. You've made your father very happy coming here, and we're all so excited to finally meet you. She let go, immediately transitioning to a brisker manner, But you don't have to call me Vallera. No one does. You can just call me Vi.

Okay, Vi it is then. I smiled. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.

Well, I hope you come to think of it as your home also.

I'd like that.

While my dad washed up and rested a bit, Vi showed me my room. I was surprised to find I would be getting a room to myself. My initial thought had been that there were only three bedrooms, but Vi informed me the master bedroom was actually just off the kitchen. My room was the one opposite the bathroom, beside Will's. The girl's room sat directly opposite his. The room was small yet cozy, with a twin bed, dresser, desk, and nightstand. It was plainly decorated, with sheets that smelled freshly washed tucked in militarily tight on the bed.

Do you need anything, Willie? Vi asked, looking about the room as if trying to decide for herself if something was missing.

No ma'am, I'll be just fine, thank you.

Vi nodded briskly. Then I'll let you get changed and rested or whatever you need to do. Just let me know if you think of anything.

I will, thank you.

Left alone, I decided to unpack. At some point my dad had brought my bags into my room. I was staying for two months, so unpacking would make things easier. When finished, I tucked the bags inside of each other, stuffing them beneath the bed frame to save space.

Laying back on the surprisingly comfortable mattress, intent upon resting my eyes for a second, I drifted off to sleep only to startle myself awake. According to the clock on the wall, only fifteen minutes had passed. Not ready for sleep, I changed into more comfortable house clothes. I slipped on a black band shirt Spike had given me for Christmas, and a pair of black cloth shorts. I ditched my tennis shoes, opting instead to keep my feet bare. It was more comfortable for me that way.

I opened my door and walked into the hallway. The familiar smells of southern food drew me into the kitchen. Vi stood at the stove, something sizzling in the frying pan before her. Finished already?

Yes ma'am. I answered respectfully.

With a wave of her hand, Vi answered, "Oh, you don't have to call me ma'am. I appreciate the good manners, but we are family after all, honey."

I smiled, deciding not to comment on her statement for fear of