“Not always. My early years were heavily influenced by the notion that my life should follow a traditional path—marry well, have children, be content with a quiet, domestic life. It was only when I finally left my small town that my worldview began to expand.”
“And is that when you realized you wanted to have a career in law, or have you always known?”
I laughed, recalling my youthful dreams. “Actually, I did have early aspiration of being a lawyer, but I was too shy to even dream of standing before a courtroom. So I dismissed it as an impossible dream and decided to be a teacher instead. In fact, I graduated with a mathematics degree from the University of Tennessee with the intention of doing just that. For a while, I even toyed with the notion of becoming a college professor. It wasn’t until years later that I was given a second chance to follow my original dream.”
Diane’s pen paused and she looked up. “And what led you on that path? There must have been a turning point, yes?”
I allowed my mind to journey along the threads of my memory. “Yes, indeed there was. But perhaps we should save that for later. I don’t want to spoil the plot. We’re only in chapter one, after all.”
“Fair enough,” Diane said, her professional demeanor faltering for the briefest of moments, replaced by a flicker of unguarded curiosity. She clicked her pen, collecting herself. “Just so you know, I typically like to split my interviews into three parts—past, present, and future. I like to start with the journey that has brought you here, then delve into what you’recurrently engaged in, and finally get a glimpse of where you might be headed. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a fair approach. And I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God,” I said, working in some lawyer humor.
Diane chuckled and glanced at her wristwatch. “We probably should wait until tomorrow to really dig into your past, but I’d like to ask a few preliminary questions, you know, to break the ice. Are you up for that?”
“Fire away.”
She pulled out the recorder and flipped the switch, the red light flickering on. “Let’s start with your early years. Tell me about the town you grew up in. What was it like?”
I glanced at the flames in the fireplace, my mind traveling back to the days of my childhood. “I was born in a little town called Sims Chapel, the only child of a single mother that loved me more than life itself. It was a place where everyone knew each other’s name, and secrets could hardly be kept secret. Nestled between the Smoky Mountains and a river that kissed the edges of town, Sims Chapel was as charming as any small town could be.”
“It sounds like a lovely place.”
“Oh, it was. Unlike the mansion we now sit in, my childhood home was neither fancy nor glamorous. But it sat atop a rolling hill with a view of the mountains that would take your breath away. In the winter, when the trees were bare, you could see all the way down to the river.” I paused, feeling the weight of years that had passed, the memories layered like paint on an old wall. “Before the Tennessee Valley Authority came in and dammed up the river, I used to swim and play in its cool waters. Until I got old enough to swim properly, my mother would sit on the bank, humming to herself while mending clothes.
“It sounds as if your mother played a significant role in your upbringing,” Diane interjected. “Tell me more about her.”
I nodded, absorbed in the memories. “My daddy died before I was born, so Mother was everything to me. A guiding light, a pillar of strength. She taught me kindness and respect, showed me the pain of hard work and the joy its fruits could bring. She was a seamstress, working long hours to keep food on the table and clothes on my back. She used to say that she sewed pieces of her heart into everything she made.”
“I like that. What about your friends? Did you have many?”
“Most of the kids my age lived in Dandridge, which was up the river a bit, but there were a few in Sims Chapel. Yvonne Tidwell and Connie Barnes were both close friends of mine. But my best friend was a boy named Jack Bennett. He and I were two peas in a pod, inseparable from the day we met. Jack was the adventurous type, always up for just about anything, constantly dragging me into the woods or down to the river on one of his exploits.”
“So you were a tomboy?”
“Oh yes, very much so. I was climbing trees and scraping my knees before I could read and write. Jack and I would spend the day exploring the woods, fishing down by the river, or playing pretend in the old barn at the back of his family's property. Mother was forever washing dirt out of my clothes and scolding me for coming home past sundown. But she was always there, waiting on the porch with a warm smile and a hot meal.”
Diane chuckled softly. “So is it safe to say that you and Jack were partners in crime?”
“I reckon we were. We were mischievous, no doubt about it. At least I was. I had this knack for finding trouble, you see, and Jack had a knack for getting us out of it. We’d explore the land together, looking for arrowheads and old artifacts, or sneak down to the creek and catch crawfish with our bare hands. Jackhad a wild, free spirit about him, like the wind in the trees. It was infectious…made me want to follow him on whatever crazy adventure he had planned out for that day.”
“And did your mother know about your exploits?”
“Oh, she knew about them all right.” A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. “I think she wanted me to be more like the other girls—quiet, gentle, and clean. But she also understood my need for adventure and freedom. She knew I wouldn’t be content with sewing circles and tea parties. No, I needed the open air, the feel of the dirt under my feet and the freedom of the wild. As long as I got good grades and was home in time for dinner, she was content. At least she pretended to be.”
Diane’s eyebrows went up a notch at that, her pen racing across the page again. “It’s clear your mother played a significant role in your life, but what about your friend, Jack. Was he influential as well?”
I paused for a moment, my gaze cast down, to remember a face that time had begun to blur. “Yes, Jack was…is…a huge part of who I am.”
Before I knew it, an hour had passed. Diane had a way of making the minutes vanish, one question melting into another with seamless grace.
“Thank you for being so candid with me this afternoon,” Diane said as she put away her things. “We’re off to a good start.”
“My pleasure,” I said as I stood and made my way to the window. Outside, the rain had stopped, and the first rays of sunlight were beginning to pierce through the thinning clouds. “See, what did I tell you. Just look at that view.”
“Gorgeous,” Diane replied, her eyes wide as she joined me by the window. “Does this mean we can see the cottage now?”
“Absolutely,” I said, motioning her toward the door. “Follow me.”