Georgia Peaches

A southern woman living in 1953 Georgia tries to fix her failing marriage, but there’s a twist.

They always say that a woman should never stray to far from her husband, and I always try to live up to that expectation. Now, I must admit, I ain’t no Susie Homemaker, but I think I do pretty well considering my experience. The house is always clean, the laundry is always done, and there is always supper on the table when my husband comes home from work. It isn’t easy, but I manage the house work, and I’m able to keep myself done up. That’s the reason he keeps me around.

Well, that and my knack for fixing things. I can mend holes in the raggediest clothes, revive a dried out dying garden, and even tune up old cars. If it doesn’t work after I’m done, then god himself couldn’t fix it. So, when my marriage started failing, I knew just what to do. Even though Mamma told me he was a no good, woman beating, drunken b*****d, I couldn’t just give up. No sir. I wouldn’t run away after all my hard work. Like any good strong woman would do, I picked myself up again.

Growing up a poor farm girl in the middle of Macon really made me resilient. Like Mamma always said, “Be strong when things go wrong, dust yourself off when you fall, you’re a Georgia peach after all.” That’s exactly what I did. I found my strength when our marriage started to crumble, I dusted off the pain when he said that he didn’t love me anymore, and I found out that a little determination makes anything easy. Sure, I got a few black eyes and bruises here and there, but there’s nothing that a little powder can’t cover up. After all, what’s a woman without a pretty face? My looks are what got me out of Macon anyway.

However, I must say, I did come close to ending it a few times. Especially when I found out how unfaithful my husband truly was. He brought that fake blonde, wide hipped, hussy Barbra Lynn home. I came mighty close to wearing her out; he swung me over his shoulder before I could get ahold of that bleached hair. It doesn’t matter though I would have won anyway.


But, I think I’ve finally figured out how to repair our broken vowels. I made his favorite dinner, fried steak with a side of mashed potatoes. I took extra care with the delicious strawberry pie I baked, it took me almost 4 hours to make. I got my hair curled just the way he likes it. My makeup is done like those Hollywood stars in the magazines, and I picked out that red dress that really suits my figure from the Woolworth’s in Atlanta. He’s a lucky man to have such a strong and thoughtful wife like me. I even cared enough to scrub the dirt off of my palms after I climbed out from under our magnolia tree. You see, us Georgia peaches are very tough. Most women don’t have the courage to crawl out of their own graves.

Author's Note

Give my any type of feedback you feel necessary.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

.........this is a compelling story that begs for more to be written. You have created a fun character but end her story too early (there are so many things she could still do and many people in her life that we as the readers haven't met yet and are curious to know as well). This has the potential of being a novel, if you so wish it. Really delve into her world and paint the whole picture to flush out the story. For you definitely have something going with this one. Very intriguing and compelling. Well done!

[Chris]

It was a delicious twist at the very end... still chuckling. This one went well with some morning coffee.

[Delmar Cooper]

Hell of a story. Well the story is good but the characterization is the really good part. Fine job, thanks for sharing.