Dylan's Story - Part 9

Good morning FFFs,

It's cloudy right now. I think there's a slight chance of rain this morning and then it's supposed to clear up. Yesterday was rather strange because now and then the sun would come out and it would look like it was clearing up only to have the clouds gather even darker and hide the sun.

We babysat Doodle Bug, Lukesters, and Ti-K yesterday for a few hours while my brother helped my dad on a roof and my sis-in-law is laid up with a sprained ankle. Please pray for her. She's pregnant, has 6 kids to take care of (with little miss Ti-K being a handful by herself. 😛), and now has a sprained ankle.

This has not been a "lot of words written" week. I have written some, but not a whole lot. Part of it I'm blaming on the weather because when it get's just a little too warm upstairs in my room, I don't feel like writing. I'm also blaming it on other distractions, and the fact that I was doing quite a bit of editing. But, you will no doubt be happy to hear that "Dylan's Story" is now waiting for the first of my beta readers (my sister) to start reading it! And yes, I will be contacting other beta readers later.

And, just because I'm nice, I thought I'd let you all read one more part of "Dylan's Story" before you have to wait for it to be published. I wasn't going to give you more, but the story ended up being 12k words longer than I had hoped it would be. I hope you don't mind. 😉

Enjoy!

Dylan's Story

Part 9

    “There he is,” Aunt Autumn smiled as he entered the dining room. “We can–Why, Dylan, where are your socks? It’s too cold to be going around barefoot.”

    “I don’t have any more clean ones,” Dylan mumbled, staring down at the floor and feeling his face growing warm.

    “I have a pair of socks that shrank in the wash,” Scott began. “They don’t fit me, but I kept them anyway. After we pray, I’ll run up and get them. They’ll at least be warmer than nothing.”

    Without a word, Dylan slid into his chair. At least Fern hadn’t said anything.

    The socks were an almost perfect fit, and Dylan nodded when asked if they would keep his feet warm. With warm feet, hot food, and the soothing sound of rain pattering against the window, Dylan relaxed and the dismal thoughts of earlier melted.

    After lunch was finished, Autumn stood up and remarked, “I think I’ll do some laundry this afternoon. Dylan and Fern, find all of your clothes that need washed and, . . .” She frowned thoughtfully a moment. “Scott, could you get the laundry basket and set it in the hall upstairs? If they just brought their clothes down, we’d probably end up with a trail of things they dropped.” She cast a quick wink at Dylan.

    “Sure thing.”

    Then Fern piped up. “I don’t do laundry. Dylan does it.”

    Autumn couldn’t refrain a slight chuckle. “Well, I’m doing the laundry this time; all you have to do is get your dirty clothes in the basket.”

    “That’s Dylan’s job.” Fern slid from her chair and carried her dishes to the kitchen, her dark hair swinging loose about her shoulders.

    “Just take care of your things, Dylan,” Autumn said quietly. “Fern is old enough to carry her own dirty clothes to a laundry basket.”

    However, Fern didn’t think so. She didn’t get angry but shook her head innocently and repeated her statement each time Autumn told her she was to get her own dirty clothes to the basket. At last Autumn grew tired of trying to persuade her to change her mind. Crouching down in the kitchen so she could look right into the little girl’s dark eyes, Autumn said, “Fern, I’m not asking you to take care of your clothes, I’m telling you to. And I’m not going to listen to any more excuses. You are old enough to know which of your clothes have been worn and which haven’t. Now go upstairs to your room, collect all your dirty clothes, and put them in the basket.”

    Bursting into tears, Fern turned and fled from the room.

    After she had left, Autumn stood up and leaned on the counter. “This may be more of a challenge than I had first thought.”

    “What is Fern crying about?”

    Glancing over at her husband as he stepped into the kitchen, Autumn gave a small smile. “I told her she had to put her dirty clothes in the basket herself.”

    Scott raised his eyebrows. “She’s crying over that?”

    “Uh huh.”

    For a minute Scott didn’t speak, and Autumn wondered what he was thinking. At last he spoke. “I think I’ll just go upstairs and see how Dylan is coming along. I was thinking we might play a game or something, if he was interested. And I’ll bring the laundry basket to you in ten minutes.”

    “Thank you. Fern seems to respond better to your authority than mine.”

    “We’ll work on it.”

    Autumn had finished cleaning up the kitchen before the laundry basket was brought down. “Did she do it?”

    Scott nodded. “Yes, but only after I told her that she couldn’t go play a game or do anything else until her clothes were in the basket. I don’t know if she actually knew which ones were dirty, or if she just grabbed everything off the floor. But it’s there.” He nodded towards the basket.

    “That’s it?”

    “Yep, Dylan’s suitcase, at least, was empty. I told him we’d put their suitcases in the closet and he could use the dresser now.” Scott turned as though to go.

    “Scott.”

    “Yeah?”

    “They really don’t have anything else?” Autumn looked up from the basket of clothes to her husband with a troubled face.

    “Not that I know of. Unless–”

    “Unless–what?”

    Hesitating a moment, Scott’s eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. “Their mom’s car was packed with boxes and things. I wonder if they have more clothes in there. I think I’ll call the sheriff later and see if the car, or at least what’s in it, can be brought over and unloaded. It can’t be good for everything to stay in there.” He glanced out the window. The rain had stopped, but it was still dreary and the wind continued to blow. “Maybe I’ll make a quick call before we start the game.”

    “I wish you would. If it continues to grow colder, the kids are going to need warm coats and warmer clothes than they have been wearing.”

    After seeing her husband nod, Autumn started the washing machine. Several times she shook her head as she saw the few items of clothing Dylan and Fern each had. “Only enough clean clothes for about six days. However did they manage it?”

    Scott and Dylan were in the middle of an intense game of Monopoly when the doorbell rang. Dylan paused with the dice in his hands and looked questioningly at the player opposite.

    “Let’s pause the game for a few minutes, Dylan,” Scott suggested. “I think that might be the sheriff with your car.”

    “Our car? Why would it be here? Is Mom here too?” Dropping the dice, Dylan sprang to his feet.

    “No,” Uncle Scott shook his head. “Your mom isn’t here. But we thought it might be a good idea to unload the car so that nothing got ruined from being in it too long. We’ll put everything in the mud room unless it’s needed.”

Do you do your own laundry?
Could you fit all your clothes in one suitcase?
Do you enjoy playing Monopoly?