She’s Just a Small Town Girl
Paige – Chapter One
There are two different types of people who grow up in a small town. Those who never leave and those who dream to explore the world and escape. After completing my degree in history and anthropology I was going to travel to Scotland, find my Highlander, and find the love of my life. I blame the discovery of my first 200-page romance novel at the pivotal age of 13. My whole understanding of life and love were warped from that day forward. I was never satisfied with the local boys who were sons of farmers and local merchants. I did occasionally date them, but I never got serious. Getting serious meant getting stuck in this tiny town of Alma, Missouri population 600 counting cows and blades of grass.
I wanted to spread my wings and taste all the experiences the world could offer. I could never be satisfied with spending my Friday nights getting drunk on Southern Comfort on the back end of Bobby Taylor’s truck. It was a toss-up as to who would end up in the hospital trying to light a fart from the bonfire. I kid you not, that is what would happen on a typical Friday night. It was somewhat comforting living in a small town knowing everyone, and everyone know me but being the Sheriff’s daughter put a bullseye on my back. I had to be perfect all the freakin’ time. Do you know how exhausting that is? Trust me I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I was everyone’s business and if I even thought about doing something wrong, my parents knew about it before I did. There’s nothing juicier in a small town than the Sheriff’s daughter getting into trouble. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen” I would hear the town gossips say under their breath when I’d pass by.
“My whole understanding of life and love were warped from that day forward.” ~Paige
My family being one of the founders of the town sort of made us small-town royalty without all the perks of Buckingham Palace. My Dad’s brother Ben, my favorite Uncle, owned the only gas station in town and since he didn’t have any kids, I became his social experiment in child rearing. I was his little shadow following him around his garage fixing cars, changing oil, and learning to cuss like a sailor. He would drop a tool or hit his hand and the whole string of the worst cuss words would spew from his mouth. I had to find out the hard way that these words were only to be used in Uncle Ben’s garage. These were not words to be used in school ever and if they were used, you would have a significant emotional experience with the Principal and get detention after school.
My twenty-second year was both the best and worst of my life. I managed to graduate with my history and anthropology degree and was planning my first trip abroad to Scotland when my Uncle Ben died of a massive heart-attack. He was found slumped over the engine of Mr. Matthews’ Cadillac and I was shocked to find out that he had left his gas station to me. I was the only kid in the family between him and my Dad but always thought he would leave it to Danny Rogers who he pretty much took under his wing and treated like a son since Danny was 14.
So here I am five years later still in Alma, Missouri, running my Uncle Ben’s gas station. What is that old saying, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” What was I supposed to do? Just walk away and leave behind everything that Uncle Ben built? Abandon his dreams and selfishness keep my own? He taught me to how change a cars oil and rebuild an engine. He had the storytelling expertise of a Scotsman and laugh so infectious you’d laugh without knowing what you were laughing about. Uncle Ben was the father I always wanted, my protector, and the voice of reason that kept me out of trouble.
