Carson Sigmund

What had I learned in six months in Middle Valley?

Elyse asked me the question on the phone the other night and I nearly cried. I barely had an answer except to say that I knew about love, and that was because she was in my life.

(God, could I be any more pandering?)

I don’t think that was what she was reaching for. I think she was reaching for something more emotional, more ingrained in all that was going on around us.

Only I don’t care. These people are all a mess. That Marjorie and her dirty gossip column should be disallowed. She does nothing but spew filth. Cassie and her middle-of-the-road bar do little else but cultivate it next to that McMurtry woman … and, apparently, now the McMurtry woman’s Euro-trash daughter. The sheriff has no handle on safety around here (imagine him in California … jeesh, good luck!) … and Bernie isn’t a real reporter. A real reporter would have left this town a long, long time ago. But then …

Then I’d have never met Elyse, she wouldn’t be here, and I’d be completely lost.

All of this is to say when I got the call from Mayor Charlotte last week asking me for “ideas” on how to finance the Mick statue I felt sick to my stomach.

“She asked you to build it?” Elyse asked on the phone. “As in, pay for the whole thing?”

I laughed. “No, she never said ‘pay for the whole thing’ but she certainly implied it.”

Elyse scoffed. “Who does she think she is? I mean, you just got here. The proper way to finance something like this is through a vote – a vote on how it would be paid for, then a vote on where to put it. It’s really up to Cassie how this plays out, if you ask me. She has all his money now.”

“Well, I’m not doing a damned thing. I don’t know the man, I don’t know his music, I never wanted to know his music.”

“Do you know Dexys Midnight Runners?”

I laughed. “You mean Come on Eileen?”

“Yes! Yes … you know, he co-wrote that but wasn’t credited. So, you know … he changed pop, well, all of pop history.”

I grinned. “How do you know this?”

At this point, Elyse was laughing hysterically. “Cassie’s not a bad seed, as you seem to think. She’s a good friend to have. You should talk to her.”

Right, I thought. I’m sure we’ll be close. (Not.)

“So when will I see you again?”

Elyse’s smile came through to me on the phone. “Soon. I have the kids this weekend, and Mom and Dad want to see them, so … “

I nodded. “So …”

“Soon,” she said. “I will see you soon.”

Not soon enough, I thought as I hung up the phone.

By Jenny Page

Money, murder, and mayhem persist in this small riverside hamlet where old and new don't mix. Welcome to River Road, a multi-platform soap opera and ongoing homage to the time-honored tradition of daytime storytelling.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *