When the Women of the Canyon visit with the author
An invitation to pull up a chair on the veranda
Part 1 – “Marylee, We Need to Talk”
Marylee had barely settled onto Raven’s patio before Riley looked across the table and said, “Marylee, we need to talk.”
The tone was serious enough that Marylee lowered the notebook she’d just opened.
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
“It isn’t.”
Val took a sip of coffee without looking up.
Riley folded her arms.
“Remember when you were writing my book and we were all talking about us writing a garden book together? We wanted to bring it up then”
Part 2 – “Don’t Keep Making Us Older”
“I remember, Riley. Bring what up?”
Riley stood up and started pacing. “You created Echo Canyon as an almost unimaginable utopia in the middle of a desert mountain range.”
“That’s right,” Marylee agreed. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with the desert heat or winter freezes while you were busy… living.”
“We don’t want to age in these books. Don’t keep making us older. I know you have a spreadsheet charting our ages and milestones.”
“You’re right, Riley. I do. I need that to keep out stories accurate. I chose your ages back then to represent women at different stages of what is considered later life,” Marylee added seriously.
“But honestly, I hadn’t decided about aging you through the five books. I’ve thought about it, but keep setting it aside. What does everyone think?”
Part 3 – “I Just Don’t Want to Become Irrelevant”
Riley looked at Val and Quinn for support.
Val smiled broadly. “Well, what fun is that? Aging? We’ve all experienced loss. I can’t imagine going on inside these books without one of us.”
Quinn laughed, lightening the mood. “I retired once already. I’d rather not do it again.” The others chuckled.
Raven leaned back in her chair, looking out across the ranch.
“I don’t mind getting older.”
Everyone looked at her, especially Riley. Disappointed.
Raven shrugged.
“I just don’t want to become irrelevant.”
Marylee smiled warmly. “Raven, trust me. You will never be irrelevant.” Looking at the others, she added. “None of you will be.”
“Back when I was contemplating this book series, one of my readers suggested I have a serious illness and possible death in our community.”
There was a collective intake of breath as several of the friends gasped.
“Who?” demanded Riley.
“I’m not going to say because it’s not going to happen. It’s enough that I’ve already opened the door for Alzheimer’s with Skylar. I’m considering taking that out.”
Skylar perked up immediately. “I’ll vote for that! Since you created this utopia, you can create a cure.”
Everyone chimed in their agreement. Quinn said, “Yeah. Skylar has enough for her story with this mega novel she’s researching. That will keep her busy and out of Jim’s hair.”
The humor returned as naturally as the canyon whispering a breeze.
Part 4 – “Nobody Here Gets Put on a Shelf”
“Since we’re talking about getting older, why do you think women don’t want to talk about it?” Marylee looked carefully at each of the women.
Val rested both hands around her mug. “Well, the result isn’t pretty. But, I don’t think that’s what people fear.”
“What do they fear?” Marylee asked.
“We’re afraid people will stop seeing us. Expect us to stop being active.”
“Or stop needing us,” Quinn added quietly.
Skylar reached for a blueberry. “History has a way of celebrating youth while quietly forgetting the women who carried everyone there.”
Marylee looked around the table, wondering how a perfectly pleasant morning had turned into what felt suspiciously like an intervention.
“You know,” Marylee said, “none of you have ever complained before.”
Riley smiled.
“Because we finally figured out the number wasn’t the interesting part.”
That earned a round of smiles.
Marylee picked up her coffee. “Well… time keeps moving.”
“So does life,” Quinn replied. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
No one spoke for a moment.
Riley smiled.
“That’s probably why people like Echo Canyon.”
Marylee tilted her head.
“Why?”
“Because nobody here gets put on a shelf.”
Val laughed softly. “We still make mistakes.”
“We get mad now and then,” Quinn said.
“We’re not afraid to start over,” Skylar added.
“We imagine impossible things,” Riley said.
Raven smiled.
“And we look to each other for lifetime friendship and we still expect tomorrow to matter.”
Marylee looked around the patio.
She’d written every one of these women through heartbreak, laughter, uncertainty, second chances, stubbornness, friendship, and beginnings neither they nor she had expected.
Somewhere along the way she’d stopped thinking about birthdays.
She closed the notebook.
“You know something?”
“What?” Riley asked.
“I don’t actually write your ages anymore. Well except in Notes or Posts when I brag about you. And not as in getting older. Riley, you’re still 58. The youngest of you five.”
“Yeah, the baby,” Quinn chortled. Riley grinned as if she’d been waiting for that answer all morning.
“We noticed you don’t in the books.”
Marylee smiled.
“When did you notice?”
“The moment you stopped counting years…”
Riley glanced around the table at the women who had become family.
“…and began measuring our lives by what is still ahead of us.”
Marylee, I love this so much. This describes the heart of your writing. Which is why it touches so many of us. We feel a definite connection to our dear friends, you and the girls. Thank you so much for your stories. I love them and look forward to them always. Keep them coming.
Lynn
I like this! The idea of having your characters connect with you like this. I would hate to see what they’d say to me 😅 maybe it would be interesting to think about though 🧐