Stef Ann Holm
Lucy gets Her Life Back
I am blessed to have two ladies in my life who have made my world all the better for their existence. I’m proud to have their friendship and support, feel the grace they bring into everyday things that surround us, their respect and unconditional love. They are my wonderful daughters.
This book is for Whitney and Kayla, who have been by my side the past three years with smiles, kindness, late-night conversations, laughter, tears and hugs. You have both been incredibly strong and loving in the challenges we have faced, and you make my days bright. God gave me an incredible gift when He gave both of you to me.
I love you,
Mom.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Coming Next Month
Prologue
The Mountain Gazette would later report that virtually the entire population of Red Duck, Idaho had gathered in the Mule Shoe Bar to witness history in the making.
With heightened anticipation, gazes fastened on the big screen television during the world news broadcast. The aroma of coffee mingled with remnant tobacco smoke from the night before. Steady conversation filled the barroom as the sun began to rise.
A handful of those in attendance had barely let their bar stools cool down for four hours before returning at this early hour to support something really big.
There hadn’t been this much excitement in town since Bruce Willis premiered his latest movie at the Mint Theater in Hailey. Second to that was when John Kerry ran for president and the majority of Democrats in Red Duck had to go over to the dark side and turn Republican. But that was a heated story, one that was often rehashed over shots of Jack Daniels.
“It’s coming on in a just a few minutes!” P. J. Guffy said, aiming the clicker at the television to turn up the sound. “Quiet, everyone!”
The noise in the crowded room hushed to a soft murmur as the morning broadcast changed gears and moved on to the weather.
Red Duck had its own radio station and a newspaper that came out once a week. To tide everyone over until each Wednesday when the Gazette was published, gossip was exchanged over at the High Country Motel’s lounge. The closest thing to local news in between was the TV stations airing from Boise.
The toupee-wearing anchor in a double-breasted suit filled the screen, animated hand signs indicating it was going to be another record-breaking day in the area.
But nobody in Red Duck cared about the barometer.
Sitting dead center in the room for the best view of the television was the soon-to-be local celebrity.
Fern “Spin” Goodey-Leonard had both hearing aids ramped up to full power so she wouldn’t miss a thing.
One of her liver-spotted hands clamped down on the chair’s wooden arm while the other held on to a coffee sweetened with brandy. She smiled broadly, but at no one in particular—just a double check to make sure her dentures were still firmly in place. She inhaled, sucked in her gut, the latex of her girdle constricting her effort. When she’d been a spry young woman, and tall as a barn post, she’d been nicknamed “Spin”—short for “Spindly” because she’d always been so thin. Now she relied on Playtex to keep everything in place. It was amazing how one could pour one’s skin and flab into a girdle, and in a matter of seconds, elastic smoothed out all the wrinkles.
She’d been the seventh woman admitted to the Idaho Bar in 1924, quite a feat back then. Judges had been discriminatory in the courtroom, her cases having been especially trying when she was defending other women. It was amazing she’d lasted in a male-dominated business, her career spanning three decades. She gave up her practice in 1953 and moved to Red Duck with her husband, Wally. God bless him, Wally had died in 1956 in a bear-hunting accident. Having lived with the love of her life for the better part of thirty-two years, Spin had never remarried.
P. J. Guffy flapped his arms, cranking the volume higher.
A stillness fell over the room as Willard Scott’s face filled the screen.
Applause rose and Spin wasn’t even on yet. Willard was one of Spin’s favorites. She’d tried for a few years to get his recognition and, finally, this was her year. She was glad she’d held on this long, because she didn’t think she’d be around for next year’s birthday. Her bladder was failing and her kidneys gave her trouble. Cataracts had messed with her vision and her oil painting skills had suffered in recent years. But her mind was still relatively sound, so thank God for that.
As Willard addressed the camera, photos of centenarians across the country flashed on the screen, each one bordered by the well-known checkerboard frame.
“And from Red Duck, Idaho, Fern Goodey-Leonard, who turns one hundred and three this week.”
Cheers rose in the barroom as soon as Spin’s name was called, and gooseflesh prickled her loose skin. She hoped her red lipstick was still on straight. Seeing her picture on the television made her so happy. She had lived a long time for this.
Holiday poppers exploded in the bar, with tails of streamers falling over her shoulders and catching on her rhinestone-rimmed eyeglasses.
And it wasn’t even over yet.
The screen went from Willard Scott to blackness as Guffy turned off the set, and all of a sudden the bar was filled with big lights from the local news media. Channel 7 had been sent to Red Duck to do a follow-up on Spin’s birthday bash.
The reporter, perhaps twenty-two if she was a day, shoved a microphone in her face.
“So, Ms. Goodey-Leonard,” she stated, “how does it feel to see yourself on
