Good day my friends. I posted that I had chapter three done from my visit to the friend in the hospital, and then, I realized….its still in the notebook. I don’t have it typed into the computer yet. So, until I get that done, I have cheated you. I do have chapter one and two this laptop, so, I will share that with you. I’ve had a blast writing this.
Another friend told me last year, I would know my career when I would do it for free, because it was something I loved so much, that I just didn’t think to get paid for it. Well, he was write. I have always loved to write and the last two weeks, working on this coming book, “Coffee of Change,” the hours fly by and I never even know they go. The work is fun, and loving and easy. It comes easy. The first two books I wrote, were not organized on purpose. They were designed to disorient the reader and go in and out of time. And that was to simulate the confusion one can have when dealing with a passive aggressive personality. It’s not easy to explain confusion….although we all have felt it. And this current book…it has taken on a life of its own. But, I must confess….I don’t know whether the characters should off one of the ex husband’s or just keep it as a chick lit and a feel good story. Suggestions?
Well, here is a bit of what I have so far. You don’t’ get to count errors or misspelled words. I have not gone back and done any of that….so…in the rough today—-so to speak.
The Change of the coffee..
Was that a scream that just came out of her mouth? Tony sat straight up in her bed. The room was spinning. She reached for her pillow and held on. Her right hand reached for her husband. Empty. His space was empty. Gone. He’s gone. She wiped the tears from her cheek. The tissue was on the night stand. Flipped the switch to the lamp, blew her nose and laid back on her pillow. What in the world…..oh, a nightmare. A man, taking her son. No, it was the ex-husband taking her son. She shook her head to clear her mind. The image was fading, but the feeling of panic was still very clear to her senses. In her night mare, her ex had snuck into the house and grabbed their son and disappeared into the night.
She slid out of her bed. Her satin night-gown flowed to her knees and brushed her breasts as it untangled from around her. She tiptoed down the hallway, in her bare feet. Pat pat pat. And a tiny creak as she grabbed the doorway to peak in. Her eleven year old son, Shane, slept peacefully in his new sleigh bed. His Spiderman sheets tucked into his hands and wrapped around his toes peeking out of the batman quilt. Apple juice stains near the lamp by his pillow. All was peaceful…. good.
Tony slid the door almost closed. Leaving just a crack open for sound in case he needed her. Her mind calmed and she wrapped her arms around her chest for warmth. It was chilly. The hall creaked on her last step and quieted. The vinyl tile echoed her steps across the living room to the wood stove. Thank goodness I filled the box last night, she thought. Her wood box was over flowing with a stack of fir wood. She grabbed a few and opened the glass door to the Kuma stove. She chucked in three waiting a moment before she shut the door, opening the flue and air vents a bit and waited for it to start-up again. At first sign of flame, she shut the door and skittered back to her bedroom. She lifted the blankets and sheets, turned a bit, flipped the dirt off her feet, curled under her flannel sheets and her King size quilt. Blue, to match nothing in the room. It was on sale and she needed something to stay warm. After Jeffery had left, she needed something to radiate heat. No husband, so, a quilt had to do it.
Her eyelids weighed heavy and she slowly sank back into sleep. The last thing she saw was the clock on her night stand. It was three am. And she heard nothing but the crickets as all her senses closed down for the rest of the night.
Warm radiant heat caressed her right cheek. The eastern sunrise was blessing her with its presence through her window. Her Auburn hair glistened all over her green pillow cases. She stretched and glanced at the clock. “Well, at least it’s not three anymore,” she mumbled to herself. She laid on her backside and flumped the covers over her. Fresh cool air kissed her legs and feet all the way to her nose. She raised her arms over her head and smiled at the sun. “Its going to be a beautiful spring day. Lots to do!” And with that, she flipped the covers to the left and pounced out of bed.
More wood into the fire. She spun around and happily bounced toward the kitchen. Her freezer had bacon in it. Time for it to be used. Mmmmm, she thought to herself. Eggs and bacon, pancakes and fruit. That would fill a growing boy. Little tummies take miles of food to fill. Along the way, she grabbed her burgundy terry cloth robe from the bathroom. Slipped on flip flops, so as not to touch the cool floor, and skittered to the refrigerator. The side by side was holding that bacon hostage, and it must be freed. She pulled out the wire basket and whisked it to the microwave on the counter. Forty seconds later the alarm was beeping and Tony almost had the coffee brewing. One more moment she thought. Slide, click, brew. “Ahhh, that smells yummy,” she inhaled the fresh grounds about to be simmered into Breakfast Blend goodness.
Under the stove in her storage area, was the broiling pan. A bit warped, a few stains here and there, but clean. She stood straight, and placed the pan on the surface of the cook stove and turned to her left to get into the microwave. “Ohhh… dang!” She grabbed the wash rag in the sink behind her. The bacon oozed some fat over the glass round about. She dabbed and scrubbed and got all the residue. Quickly, she placed one hand underneath to catch any runoff, and moved over to the broiler. Layer by layer she placed the bacon over the pan. She turned the oven on low and slid the pan onto the trays. Now that was done, she could get on with the rest. She grabbed bowls for pancakes and bowls for mixing eggs. And one more for fresh fruit. Before she knew it, she had the entire kitchen counter covered with everything from the fridge. Fresh orange slices, cut pineapple, slivers of apples with the skin still on, handfuls of blueberries, all piled into little glass bowls on top of cottage cheese. She turned right from the Island counter top, and pulled out a drawer. Hidden inside were the pots and pans. She grabbed a pan to cook the scrambled the eggs…… and hummed to herself as they cooked. She slid them off the heat, covered them with the lid and returned to a bowl she had pancake mix in. The square skillet had been warming on the burner. A bit of spray to keep it from sticking and she poured some batter onto the hot skillet. Sizzle, sizzle steam. Mmmmm…..she smelled it’s yummy goodness. It sent shivers all over her. She smiled and checked the bacon. It required turning. Her drawer of gadgets was right there. The tongs were…..oh, right there. Oven mitt on the right hand and tongs in the other, the bacon was flipped in no time. Tony shut the oven door, and turned just in time to catch Shane as he jumped into her arms. Legs and laughter all over the place. They giggled and danced around the kitchen and returned right to the stove, Shane carefully put back on his own two feet.
“Good morning Mom!” He hugged her legs. Tony smiled and put a hand on his head. She leaned over, kissed his tow-headed curls and raised up to smile at him. Gorgeous young man. Long black eye lashes, blue eyes, dimples and always a smile. He was tall enough to reach her chest and she was no short lady. Blessed with long legs, slender hips and over 5 foot 8. She took care of herself, walked often and seemed to keep most stress and cellulite at bay.
Startled, she turned just before the pancake turned black. She flipped it, grabbed the huckleberry syrup from the fridge along with the butter, and started getting the plates ready. Shane went over to the stools on the island, and plunked himself down to watch her.
“Mom, can I have orange juice?”
“Well of course you can!” Tony forgot the juice and reached into the fridge for the container. The cupboard was beside the refrigerator and she reached in for a glass. She filled it and placed it in front of Shane. “Now, don’t drink it all before I give you your breakfast.”
Plate in hand, Tony filled it with the cooked bacon, the fresh fruit and oozed that yummy syrup all over the melting butter on the pancakes. She hummed to herself. All that goodness on one plate and they got to have it….yum.
She sipped her coffee and put the cup next to her plate. Bacon, fruit and three pancakes. Melting butter all over those pancakes and some sugary goodness made of free range berries.
She plunked down on the stool, took the hot pad off her hand, and they ate. She leaned her elbows on the counter and put her chilled feet on bottom bar of the stool. “oh the eggs!!” she startled herself with her forgotten eggs. Quickly, before they were cold, she walked to the stove, turned, lid off, and grabbed the spatula she had left on the counter from the pancakes. She served some scrambled eggs onto Shane’s plate and some to her. NOW, she could relax. She smiled and relaxed as Shane shoveled the eggs and fruit into his mouth. She was no slacker this morning. All of breakfast was good. She finished like she was famished, and from her seat, laid the plate and fork into the sink.
Shane gobbled his up and many times tried to talk with his mouth full. Tony covered her lips with her left index finger and shushed him. She stayed on the stool and sipped her coffee. Her mind wandered and her eyes glazed over as she stared out the window. All that her mind could see was Jeffery leaving in the sports car. They had argued, he held up his hand in defiance, turned, walked over the lawn, and got in his red mustang and left. They were fighting over her job. Again. He had said she was around too many men, and he could not stand her being ogled all time. She sniffed a laugh at that. She’d been there her whole life. The truck drivers were like family. After her mom had passed, those men took care of her family until they got back on their feet.
Mom had gone to bed the night it had happened. No symptoms at all. She just never woke up. Dad had gone into a deep depression for weeks. He barely got out of bed and Tony and her brothers had to force him up. They had gotten him his meals, opened the blinds, had the neighbors come over and slowly……Mark, her dad, has somehow made it back to them. That was three years now. Tony wiped her eyes and got off the stool to get some paper towel. Shane noticed she was weeping and started to ask, but thought better of it, and finished his pancakes. He knew mom would be ok. What ever was bothering her.
Tony stood by the window, between the stove and the fridge. The sun was warm and coming through the glass, albeit, not direct light as of yet. The son was still closer to the east side of the house. She sipped more coffee and then placed it in the sink with the plates. Shane was finished with his food and she cleared it while he looked on.
“Why don’t you go and get a shower?” Tony asked.
“I hate showers. Dad has one, and you have a tub. Can I just have a bath? I like baths better.” Shane pleaded and even leaned down on his knees.
She laughed and picked him up by his arm pits. “I have no reason why you can’t have a bath, if that is what you would like.” They walked down the hall, arm in arm, and ran a bath. Again, as she left the bathroom, water running, she left a crack in the door way, in case he needed her.”