Candace Meredith earned her Bachelor of Science degree in English Creative Writing from Frostburg State University in the spring of 2008. Her works of poetry, photography and fiction have appeared in literary journals Bittersweet, Backbone Mountain Review, Anthology 17, Greensilk Journal, Saltfront and The Broadkill Review. She currently works as a Freelance Editor for an online publishing company and has earned her Master of Science degree in Integrated Marketing and Communications (IMC) from West Virginia University.
Here is an excerpt from Candace’s New Book Losing You.
Many years later, the death of the girl still weighed on his mind. Condry, who stood at 6’4” and 280 pounds, employed in corrections enforcement, had a sixth sense for convicts in the twenty years he worked for WCI.
Condry was a man for truth, justice, and conviction. He spoke of the law eloquently when his own wife died in her car. She was hit head-on when a drunk driver ran a stop light and the impact upon her Jeep Liberty caused her to die instantly. That was four years prior to the death of the young woman, who, at 24, was the same age as his daughter. Condry felt that his wife called to him to take that detour through town that night when he had usually stayed on the interstate.
“It’s July again,” he says, stepping into the break room of the WCI facility.
“And the wettest damn season in twenty-five years,” Ed, his second in command, replies.
“Rained out my daughter’s vacation plans last month, now it’s going to rain on the festival it seems.”
“My wife intends to go to that dang Heritage Festival – when is it?” Ed inquires.
“It’s today,” Condry nods, “daughter sent me a text a few minutes ago – it’s raining like hell out there.”
“Well, there’s always next year.”
Ed’s head falls, “Oh man, I’m sorry brother – I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s alright man,” he interjects. “It’ll be five years ago next week.”
“How is Kristi holding up?” Ed asks.
“She’s still selling those angels made from her mother’s old jeans, but the dang rain is too much for anyone to want to go outside,” he shrugs, grabbing a cup of coffee.
“Well, she still got that little store down in Bedford?”
“Oh yeah man, doing pretty good,” Condry sips and grimaces. “She’s still with that loans officer from the PNC bank,” he grabs a few packets of sugar from the communal counter.
“Any plans for a wedding?”
“There would be,” he shrugs, “but she’s not making any plans without her mother.”
“Still hard to believe it’s been five years already,” Ed says, shifting his feet.
“Yeah, well, you know what they say,” he says, “feels like yesterday. It changed Kristi, she was only nineteen then. Rick actually told her the other day she should go back to college, for her and no one else.”
“What she say to that?”
“She thought he was being an asshole,” Condry snickers.
Ed laughs as he glances at the clock, “Well it’s time to get out of here,” he zips his parka and grabs his bottled water from the fridge.
Condry returned home to an empty fridge and a six pack of beer; the home he shared with his wife has gone stale over the years. Old news and dated magazines litter the kitchen table and torn grocery bags lay forgotten on the floor. Bed sheets cover the furniture.
Kristi bends slightly over her mother’s grave. It’s the third consecutive day of rain, but she doesn’t care. She places fresh yellow roses before a headstone that reads:
Miranda R. Sullivan
Beloved Mother and Wife
01-29-1960 to 07-24-2010
Kristi kisses the last rose before she drops it to the ground. The geese at “At Rest Memorial Garden” fly overhead; the pond’s waterfall hums in the background. In the five years since her mother’s death, Kristi recalls how her mother’s killer served eighteen months in prison and was released in January 2012, the same month her mother would have turned fifty-two years old.
Continued in book . . .
Visit Candace’s Author Page To Order Your Copy Today!
Categories: Featured Writer's