Jacqueline T. Lynch
Copyright 2011, 2015 Jacqueline T. Lynch
All rights reserved by the author. Unauthorized copying is prohibited.
Constance Ridleck looked rather like a young Greer Garson. This was noticed almost immediately by fans of classic movies, and never by anybody else. At eighteen, she had grown into an unusually unpretentious woman with high, full cheekbones, rather merry robin’s egg blue eyes, copper colored hair that fell in a thick, naturally curling mass to her shoulders, and an attitude of detached amusement about almost everything around her, despite the fact that, as her mother often pointed out, she was seriously stubborn.
Constance put the last box of her belongings into her car, a late 1980s fugitive from the scrap heap, while her mother kept busy refusing to watch. Her mother had mixed feelings on her daughter’s leaving home: on the one hand, frustrated that this stubborn girl of hers was so foolish as to throw her life away; and on the other hand, relieved that the constant failure this daughter represented to Tina Ridleck would be out of the realm of her responsibility now. Tina was free now to devote her extraordinary energy to sculpting her younger daughter, Brianna.
Tina looked at the bright side of life, and needed this gift, for she was burdened with loved ones who did not measure up to her expectations.