The TwoMomma Chronicles

"TwoMomma"

Yes, Virginia, there is a Twomomma!

Growing up in Johnson City, Tennessee, was unique because my paternal grandmother, Twomomma, lived next door and kept watch over our lives from inside and outside her home. Her den window, overlooking our driveway, offered a view of our kitchen sink, revealing whether my mother had washed the dishes that day. Twomomma often remarked that she didn’t know the color of my mother’s kitchen counters because they were always covered with dirty laundry, unwashed pots, and dishes. Twomomma, an aristocrat from Sparta, North Carolina, always claimed to be the most beautiful woman alive, had the cleanest house in Alleghany County, and believed everyone was lucky to meet her. She was a talented classical pianist who earned her living teaching piano. Witty and intelligent, she could outplay anyone at Bridge but saw her daughter-in-law, Tobie, my mother, as her rival. Meanwhile, my father, Baxter, her beloved son, often acted as a mediator between his mother and wife, keeping his sense of humor and endearing himself to everyone who knew him.

About the Author

Virginia Mattie

I'm Twomomma’s namesake, named Virginia after her, but my mother refused to call me Virginia. She said she hadn’t agreed to that and that my father chose the name without her consent. Not one to accept defeat, my mother gave me the nickname Sissy, which stuck like glue—much to Twomomma’s dismay. Over the years, I can tell which decade each of my names belongs to by how people addressed me. At Northside Elementary, my teachers called me Virginia Lee; my family called me Sissy; and after we moved to Jonesborough, my teachers and classmates called me Jenny. I responded well to all these names, but the U.S. Navy insisted on my legal name, Virginia. My husband, Edward, has never called me anything but Virginia, and I have never called him anything but Edward—his family still calls him Ed. Nicknames and family! Here’s a funny story: our daughter Kara, who was three at the time, pulled me aside during a Christmas visit to Jonesborough. She was totally confused by everyone calling me Sissy and pointed her finger at me and whispered curiously, "Are you, Sissy?" I remember laughing at her innocent expression, and I realized then how much I had grown used to having all these names, and how strange it was to her that her mother could possibly be called something else that she didn’t know anything about. But while I wrote this trilogy, I began to see my life differently and how easily I adapted to whatever curveballs life threw at me, even at a young age. I had this incredible life that began with my grandmother, who told me she had won every beauty contest she ever entered and instructed me never to call her anything but Twomomma—her reasoning? Because no one would believe she was old enough to be a ‘grandmother’—she was clearly, in anyone’s eyes, a youthful and beautiful woman who could only be my mother. This is where my story begins, and I hope you find it as entertaining as I did—it has been an incredible journey, and believe me, Twomomma was the real deal, and so was her famous Brown Sugar Pie!