Background

Friday, September 23, 2022

Runaway? - Part 3

Happy Fall!

Wednesday was in the mid to upper 90s and yesterday never got out of the 60s. Today is supposed to be warmer in the low 80s and then we're supposed to get another hot day on Saturday before next week of 50s at night and low 80s in the day. I love fall!

I got 3k words written between Monday and Tuesday, and then have only written a little bit last night. But that's what happens sometimes. I was working on other things. Got some blog posts done and the Christmas play edited, copied, and put into folders with each person's parts highlighted. I give them out on Sunday.

This morning we clean house and then my grandpa and aunt are coming down for a visit.

Tomorrow my best friend and I are going to head out to Prairie State Park for their Prairie Jubilee! We used to go there all the time when we were growing up. We learned so much and did so many things. It will be fun to go back there and see the old places and do some prairie things again. Plus the Naturalist who used to teach us back then, said she'd be there working, so that will be even more fun.

I do need to design the cover for this year's Christmas Collection story. I haven't had much time to do much of anything on that yet.

I know this is short, but oh well. Enjoy the last part of this story. I don't know what I'll post next week. I guess you'll have to come back then and see.

 

Runaway?
Part 3

 

    “What for? Don’t you have a good home?” Gil asked.
    “Yeah, but I want a dog, and Dad said I can’t have one ‘cause I’m not re–respect–” He frowned and shook his head.
    “Responsible?” ventured Officer Rockwell.
    Jerry nodded, forgetting that he hadn’t wanted to tell the policeman he had run away. “Yeah. But I’d take care of a dog if I had one,” he assured his new friends.
    “Rock!” Someone from the kitchen area stuck his head out and shouted. “Got a call.”
    Standing up, the officer said, “Be right back. Now don’t you go letting Gil take my plate yet, Jerry.” Then he strode off and disappeared.
    Gil leaned closer and spoke confidentially. “It’s got to be either his chief calling to make sure he’s not slacking off, or his wife wanting him to bring home some milk. Happens quite often. Need some more lemonade?”
    With a nod, for his mouth was full, Jerry watched Gil take his glass and fill it up. He’d never gotten a refill before.

*


    “I got the kid,” Rockwell assured his chief. “He’s safe and enjoying a good lunch.” He paused and listened a moment. “No, tell them he’s all right and will be home later.” Another pause. “Gil and I are working on him, just give us some more time. . . . Yep. I’ll take him there.” Pulling out a small pad of paper from his pocket, Rockwell scribbled something in it before tucking it back in and buttoning his shirt pocket. “Yes, sir.” He hung up the phone and grinned at one of the cooks. “Just save me a slice of that apple pie.”
    “Will do, Rock,” the man replied.
    With that, Rockwell left the kitchen and sauntered back to his seat at the counter. “Now, where were we?” he asked before shoveling in a large bite of spaghetti.
    Gil answered. “We were talking about Jerry wanting that dog but his folks not thinking he’s responsible enough.”
    Rockwell nodded and scratched his ear. “Well, Jerry, the way I see it, you’ve got a couple options here.” He paused and glanced at Jerry, who was shoving the last bite of his sandwich into is mouth. He wondered if the boy would run now that his stomach was full. He hoped not. He didn’t want to take him home by force. “One is to keep on walking toward Washington, but it’s a mighty long way, and someone else might see you and decide to pick you up and take you home.”
    “And even if you reached Washington,” Gil put in, “I hear it’s a big city. Not like our town. There’s bound to be a lot of crime and such.”
    “Gil’s right about that.” And Rockwell wiped his hands on a paper napkin and pushed back his empty plate. “The other option would be to go back home and show your dad you can be responsible, and maybe earn a dog that way.”
    “How?” Jerry’s swinging feet tapped lightly against the counter.
    “Well, for one, you could make sure you make your bed each day and keep your room clean. Maybe take out the trash.”
    “Take out the trash?”
    “Sure,” Rockwell said. “I take out the trash.”
    Jerry didn’t say anything.
    Gil leaned on the counter again. It seemed to be his favorite attitude for conversation. “And if your mom’s got any chores for you to do, get ‘em done right away, before she can ask, if possible. There’s nothing that spells responsibility like doing things before you’re asked to do them.”
    Jerry was silent so long that Rockwell wondered if they’d said too much.

*


    Thoughtfully, Jerry considered the suggestions. “Do you think I’d get a dog if I did that?” Running away wasn’t as fun as he thought it would be.
    “I don’t know,” the officer replied. “But it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”
    “I suppose so.” Jerry gave a long sigh. “It’s going to be hard though.”
    “Taking care of a dog is hard. And so is walking all the way to Washington D.C.”
    Jerry looked up at Officer Rockwell. “I guess it would be.” He started to slide off his stool, but a hand placed on his arm stopped him.
    “If you’ll have a piece of pie with me, I’ll drive you home in style,” Officer Rockwell offered with a smile. “Gil’s pies might be as good as your mom’s.”
    At that Jerry scooted back onto his seat. “Okay. Mom doesn’t make very good pies. Grandma does though. Can I have cherry?”

*


    Rockwell stopped at the door of the diner with one hand on Jerry’s shoulder, and glanced back. “Thanks, Gil,” he called.
    Gil gave a friendly wave. “No trouble. Come see me again, Jerry, and bring your parents with you.”
    Jerry waved. “Okay.”
    The sun was hot and the air heavy with the approaching storm as Rockwell and his young friend walked the few blocks to his patrol car. For once it looked like the weatherman was correct. Rockwell opened the door. “Hop in, Jerry.”
    The boy scrambled into the car and rested his bundle and bedroll on his lap. “I’m kind of glad you found me,” he said as the car started rolling along the street. “I don’t like big storms.”
    “I’m glad I found you too, Jerry.” Rockwell replied quietly. He was thankful God had caused his path to connect with Jerry’s and that Jerry had decided to go home and learn to be responsible.
 

Did you have a cool first day of fall?
What's your favorite season?
Did you enjoy this story?

Friday, September 16, 2022

Runaway? - Part 2

 Good morning!

It's a lovely morning. Cool enough to have the windows open and go walking before breakfast. Actually, this whole week has been nice. A few days we never had to turn the AC on. And Sis and I have walked a mile every day. I've missed getting out and walking.

This week has not been a writing week, but I've gotten other things done. As some of you may have noticed, I was interviewed on Once Upon an Ordinary, and then Kate reviewed one of my books, and then I did a guest post over there for her all about writing short stories. But that wasn't what kept me from writing. I was just busy with other projects:

  • Kate designed a cover for "Lawrence & Lenexa" and gave it a new title "Summer Light" which fits so well!
  • I've tried to get a few blog posts written.
  • There have been organizing and cleaning out that I've been doing.
  • This year's Christmas Collection story was edited, so I made corrections and added to the final scene.
  • Oh, I updated many pages on my website! Including the Home page. (hint: you can see a cover of Summer Light on there)

Today all my nieces and nephews except my oldest are spending most of the day over here. My oldest niece (who has a birthday today!) will be shopping with her parents. (Happy 16th birthday, Pickle Puss!  It's been a long time since I called you that. :)) Anyway, today will be busy.

I hope you enjoy this next part of this little story.

 

Runaway?
Part 2

    Gil came over and leaned on the counter. His clean white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled partway up. Thin dark hair was brushed back on his head, and a smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Hi there.”
    “Hi.”
    “Gil, Jerry here is headed to the White House.” Officer Rockwell hoped his friend would pick up on what he wasn’t saying. All his wondering was put to rest when Gil spoke.
    “You don’t say! The White House in Washington?” Gil looked impressed. “I’ve never been that far east before. I went west during the war. Say now, young fella, are you planning on walking the whole way?”
    Jerry gave a half shrug.
    “It’s a mighty long way, but if you’re heading that far, you’re going to need a good meal. What’ll you have?” And Gil straightened up.
    “I only have ten cents,” Jerry admitted, looking first at Gil and then at Rockwell.
    “That’ll get you just about anything,” Gil told him. “And what about you, Rock? Want your usual?”
    Rock gave a nod. “Sure do. No one makes spaghetti like you do.” He turned to the boy beside him. “How about you, Jerry? Want spaghetti?”
    Jerry shook his head. “I want a sandwich.”
    “Ham?” Gil asked.
    Jerry nodded.
    “I’ll take those orders back to the kitchen and will be right back.” And Gil moved down the counter, leaving the boy alone with Officer Rockwell.
    This was what Rockwell wanted, and he leaned over. “Say, Jerry, how old are you?”
    “Almost seven.”
    “That’s mighty grown up, but it’s a long way to Washington D.C. Where are you going to sleep?”
    Jerry patted the sleeping roll he had across his lap. “I’ll sleep out under the stars in this. It won’t be too cold since it’s summer.”
    “That’s true,” Rockwell said musingly. “But what if it rains? I heard the man on the radio say we might get some thunderstorms tonight.” Rockwell shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be sleeping out in a storm. Would you, Gil?”
    Leaning once more on the counter, Gil looked from one face to the other. “Sleep outside in a storm? Well, I’ve done it before, and I don’t recommend it. You get all wet, and your bed and clothes get wet, not to mention how loud that thunder can be. Besides, if you’re going to see the president, you don’t want to show up all dirty.” Gil shook his head slowly. “No, sir. I wouldn’t recommend walking the whole way. Now a bus might be a good way to get there.”
    Rockwell nodded. “Yep, that’s how I’d go.” Then he stopped as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Jerry, I don’t see how you can take a bus though if you’ve only got ten cents.”
    Jerry said not a word, and Rockwell wondered what he was thinking but didn’t feel that he should ask yet.
    “What made you decide to go to Washington today, sonny?” questioned Gil, his tones curious. “Or have you been traveling some time?”

*


    Jerry’s hands fiddled with the rope around his sleeping roll. What should he tell them? It was wrong to lie, but he didn’t want to go back home.
    “I started this morning. I didn’t hear anything about storms,” he admitted at last.
    “Oh.”
    Jerry wondered what Gil’s tone meant. It had sounded somewhat like his dad’s voice when he knew more than Jerry hoped he did.
    A little bell rang, and Gil disappeared for a moment, only to return with their lunch. Officer Rockwell took off his cap and set it on the counter. “I always pray before I eat, Jerry,” he said.
    Quietly Jerry folded his hands and bowed his head.
    “Heavenly Father, thank You for this food that You have given. Thank You for Jerry’s company. I do ask that You would help Jerry know what he should do about his trip. Keep us safe today, I ask. In Your Son’s Name. Amen.”
    No one spoke for some minutes as Jerry and Officer Rockwell enjoyed their lunches. Gil busied himself on the other side of the counter doing something, though Jerry didn’t know what.
    “You know,” Gil said thoughtfully after several minutes, coming over and resting one elbow on the counter, “you never did tell me why you were heading to Washington? Oh, I heard you were going to see the president, but what about? You have important matters to discuss with him?”
    Right then Jerry was thankful for his mom’s constant admonitions not to talk with food in his mouth, for he had just taken a large bite, and this gave him a chance, a polite one, to think. He stole a glance at Officer Rockwell, but he didn’t even seem to be listening, for he was concentrating on his spaghetti. Maybe it would be okay to tell.
    “I was hoping I could live with him.”
    “What for? Don’t you have a good home?” Gil asked.

Have you seen the cover for Summer Light?
What advice would you give Jerry if you were there?
How has your week been?
 
P.S. The Prequel of  the Woodbreak series is Free on Amazon right now.

Friday, September 9, 2022

Runaway? - Part 1

 Good morning.

It's a lovely morning. Right now it's in the 60s and highs today are supposed to be 80s. My sister and I have gotten to walk every morning this week, and we're planning on heading out again before too long.

This week has been good. Busy, but not crazy. At least not yet. ;) And I have gotten to write at least 1k every day. Monday I actually wrote 2k. I've worked on Kate & Kylie, and my Unnamed Story (the one I shouldn't be writing, but I guess I should be because it just keeps coming), and last night I reached the end of this year's Christmas Collection story. I was having some trouble with it because I wasn't sure on one part, but I got that figured out yesterday. It's such fun to be back to writing again.

Still no update on Lawrence & Lenexa. No ideas for a cover yet. But that's okay. It will get done. Sometime.

I'm trying to get different things like blog posts, and writing camp stuff, and things for the release of A Homewood Christmas, done ahead of time so I can actually take time to enjoy the fall this year. The last two years I was rather distracted and busy.

There are some volleyball games this evening, and then tomorrow afternoon. I probably won't be going, but I don't know if any of my nieces and nephews will be coming over to "play with BehBeh" or not. I guess we'll see.

Today's story is a re-posting of a story from 2019. I hope you all enjoy. It was fun to write it. And yes, I got the idea from a Norman Rockwell picture.

 

Runaway?
Part 1


    Jerry trudged down the sidewalk one warm summer day. He had rolled up the bottom of his jeans as much as he could manage, but he was still hot. His feet were tired, and he was thirsty. Over his shoulder, tied up in a red bandana which was firmly knotted to a stick, were all his worldly possessions. Well, all he’d taken with him when he had run away from home that morning. Yes, Jerry was running away. He was never going back, he decided as he marched along. He was going to go live with President Eisenhower in the White House. Then he could have a dog if he wanted one. Jerry was sure there weren’t any kids living there with the president. “I might even be able to have two dogs!”
    The sun climbed higher in the sky, and Jerry’s feet were dragging. He was hungry. The breakfast of puffed rice cereal, toast, one fried egg, and juice he had eaten earlier had disappeared.
    “I should’a made me a sandwich before I ran away,” he muttered, kicking a rock into the street.
    A movement across the street caught his attention, and his eyes widened at the sight of a tall, broad shouldered policeman in a blue uniform.

*


    Officer Rockwell was walking his usual beat. His stomach told him it was time for lunch, and he fully agreed with it. Gil’s place was just across the street. Some days he had to eat elsewhere because his duties kept him away from this street at lunch time, but when he could, Officer Rockwell ate at the little diner.
    Glancing across the street, his brows drew together slightly. A young boy, he couldn’t be more than seven, in jeans and a light yellow shirt was trudging down the sidewalk alone.
    “He’s running away, I’ll bet,” Officer Rockwell thought, taking in the small bundle tied to the stick. “Maybe I can talk some sense into him. I wonder where he’s headed.”
    After waiting for a car to pass, he crossed the street and stopped in front of the boy.
    “Hey there, young fella, what’s your name?”
    “Jerry.” The name was very quiet.
    “Hello, Jerry. I’m Officer Rockwell, but my friends just call me Rock. Where are you headed to this sunny day?”
    The boy hesitated and looked down at his scuffed brown shoes. “To the White House,” he admitted at last.
    Officer Rockwell couldn’t hold back a low whistle. “That’s a good ways from here. Say, are you hungry?”
    Jerry nodded.
    “Have time to eat some lunch with me before you get back on your way? There’s a really good diner up here at the corner.”
    “I only have ten cents,” the boy whispered, his eyes still on the ground.
    “With that you can get a good meal at Gil’s,” Officer Rockwell assured, knowing that his friend would never charge the boy full price, and quite willing to add some to his own bill for the sake of the runaway. “Come on, what do you say we go inside where it’s cooler and get a bite to eat?”

*

    Jerry was torn. He did want to eat lunch, and his feet were already tired of walking, even though the day was far from over, but the policeman might decide to take him home after they ate. True, he hadn’t said anything about him running away or even asked if he had, and Jerry wondered if perhaps he hadn’t thought of it. Maybe he just thought he was traveling.
    “What do you say, Jerry? Doesn’t a sandwich with a thick slice of ham sound good? Or maybe spaghetti? Liver and onions? And what about a piece of pie and some cold lemonade to drink?” The police officer patted his firm stomach. “Gil’s got some tasty food.”
    Just then Jerry’s stomach gave a loud, complaining growl. “Yeah.”
    “Good. I like company when I eat.”
    Together the small boy and the large policeman walked the rest of the way to the corner and into Gil’s diner.

*


    Officer Rockwell led the way across the shiny gray floors to the gleaming chrome bar stools with green tops. He gave a inclination of his head toward his small companion when Gil looked up.
    “Here, have a seat, Jerry. Gil, I’d like you to meet my young friend.” Rockwell seated himself and rested his boots on the footrest. In another minute the boy was seated beside him, having set his bundle on the floor beside his stool.
    Gil came over and leaned on the counter. His clean white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled partway up. Thin dark hair was brushed back on his head, and a smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Hi there.”
    “Hi.”

Have you ever thought or tried running away from home?
Would you like to living in the White House?
Which of my stories are you must excited to get finished?

Friday, September 2, 2022

Time Traveler

 Happy Friday!

It's a lovely 2nd day of September. A soft rain is pattering on the roof. Don't you just love rainy mornings? Of  course if we get too much rain, I'm ready for sunshine, but since we haven't had a lot of rain it is very nice.

Life has been very busy since I last posted. My to-do lists have been long, but thankfully I've gotten almost all of them done. Here's a quick look at my week:

Last Friday: My dad and I painted the wall in the living room. He got the trim up, and I spackled all the nail holes and then painted them.

Saturday: Many of my nieces and nephews were over off and on during the day. They had volleyball games right near us, and some came over to finish up school when they weren't playing. My 2-y-o niece came over to play with BehBeh (me). She was over for about an hour or so in the morning and then came over around 1:30, took a nap here, ate supper here, and didn't get picked up until 8. My sis-in-law came by to pick up Ti-K (middle niece), and Goosey Girl told her, "I not go bolleyball. I stay with BehBeh." Her mom told her she had to ask me. So she turned to me and asked, "I stay here, BehBeh?" Who could say no? I didn't mind though. She's a fun little girl and a chatter box!

Sunday: I went early to church to practice music, then I worked nursery Sunday School for my mom since she stayed home with a cold. I was going to be in church, but a visiting family was there with triplets and I helped them get to children's church, and then the pastor's wife asked me if I could stay and help. So I did.

 Monday: I got all the touch up painting in the hall done! Yay! Finally, it's finished! That took all morning. In the afternoon I got a beta story read and feedback given.

Tuesday: This was one of those long to-do list days. My sis and I walked before breakfast which was so nice! I got L&L divided into chapters, and my Christmas story for A Homewood Christmas corrected and divided into chapters. I packaged up so things and mailed them, and I even managed to write 1k words!

Wednesday: My sister and I got to walk again before breakfast, then after breakfast I mowed the yard. Trimmed some dead branches out of the lilac bush. I didn't have as long of a to-do list this day since I only had the afternoon to work on things. I read, and wrote 600 words. Went to church that night for the annual church business meeting.

Thursday: Walked again, and then worked on this thing, that thing, and the other thing. I ended up publishing my short Christmas story for this year which was last year's Christmas card story. I wasn't planning on doing it yet, but since the cover was done, and I got the synopsis done (with Angie's help), and it took me about 5 minutes to format the story, I decided to just go ahead. I wrote 1,200+ words yesterday, and managed to get 10 chapters of a beta story read.

Today: Cleaning house this morning. It needs it. The spiders and dust bunnies are coming out. I need to practice the violin, and hopefully do some other things before my nieces and nephews all come over this evening so their parents can go on a date.

Wow, that was rather a lot. I guess if you didn't want to read all that, you could have just skipped to today's story. This story was written 9 years or more ago for a "publication" some friends were doing for fun. Every issue had a Time Traveler in it. It was the same brother and sister, but different people wrote episodes for it. And this is what I wrote. It was supposed to be short. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Time Traveler


    Panting after their rapid climb up the steep mountain, Wallace and Morgan paused before the little cabin.
    “I wonder where we’ll go this time,” Morgan wondered when she could speak.
    Her brother shrugged and opened the door. Once you pushed that time button you never knew where you would end up. This time would be no different they were both certain.
    Climbing in the strange machine and taking a deep breath, Wallace asked, “Are you ready?”
    “Ready,” his sister replied.
    A whirl, a roar and everything went black; the seats shook and then all at once they heard shouts and cries as though a great throng of people were nearby.
    “Where are we?” Morgan whispered, as they were still in the dark.
    “I don’t know. Maybe this is a closet.” As he spoke, Wallace was feeling around. “Ah, here is a door handle,” he exclaimed. Giving the door a shove, it opened to reveal a room of some sort. The sound of people was coming from outside though.
    Quickly, with scarcely a glance about them, the two children dashed through the room into another which proved to be a shop of some sort. Out the windows they were able to see the crowd lined up, talking and making such a lot of noise.
    Gripping each other’s hands so as not to become separated, they opened the door and began to slowly push and shove their way through the men, women and children until they reached the edge of the street.
    “Wow!” shouted Morgan as she saw the tall buildings across the street and then, looking up, noticed the equally tall ones behind them. “Wallace, look at all the people in the windows!”
    Wallace looked, completely puzzled. It was evident that they were in a large city and the people spoke English for he caught stray words here and there like “Solo” “Lone Eagle” “Received Flying Cross” and “Paris.” However, before he could figure it out, a sudden shout was heard.
    “They’re coming!”
    Instantly thousands of throats filled the air with cheer upon cheer while pieces of paper began floating from the windows above.
    Morgan and Wallace joined in the cheers for it was impossible not to shout when everyone around you was, even if you didn’t know what or who you were cheering.
    Down the street came policemen mounted on horses. There were also soldiers, some of whom carried flags.
    “I think that is New York’s flag, Morgan,” Wallace pointed. That must mean they were in New York. Probably in New York City.
    Then a car, with mounted riders for escorts on either side, came into view. In the car a young looking man sat on the back with a grin on his face and waved to the people. All at once the ticker tape which had only come down slowly before, began to pour from the sky or so it seemed. Millions upon millions of pieces; so many that it almost looked like a blizzard though it was much too warm for snow.
    As the parade drew closer, Morgan, standing on tiptoe, shouted in her brother’s ear, “I’ve seen that guy before.”
    “So have I,” Wallace hollered back in return, “but where? When?”
    “Lindy! Lindy! Lindy!” the crowd chanted.
    “Hurrah for the Spirit of St. Louis!” someone in the crowd behind the children bellowed.
    That was it! Wallace gasped in excitement, his eyes wide with delight and excitement.
    Without thinking what he was doing, he dashed forward, darted before a horse and reached the side of the car. Looking up, he saw his hero, the daredevil barnstormer, the first to cross the ocean in an airplane flying solo, the great Charles Lindbergh himself!
    As he looked up at the young man with his infectious grin, Lindbergh reached out his hand and quickly grasped that of Wallace. It was only a brief handclasp for someone jerked him back away from the car, but he had touched him! He had shaken his hand! What a story to tell back home!
    “Wallace!”
    Morgan was shaking his arm and shouting at him. He turned to look at her.
    “Did you really get to touch him?” she shouted. “For real?”
    Still astonished that it had happened, Wallace could only nod and stare at his hand.
    The rest of the parade passed, but neither children took much notice. They had seen Charles Lindbergh! The crowd pushed them along with its masses until, gradually disappearing from around them, they were left standing together on a sidewalk.
    There was a blast of a horn, a roar and everything went black.

    Opening their eyes, Wallace and Morgan climbed out of the time traveler and looked at each other with starry eyes.
    “Wait till we tell those at home what happened to us!” Morgan breathed.
    But Wallace shook his head. “They’ll never believe us. Never.”

 

Have you ever wished you could do a little time travel?
Where would you go if you could?
How was your week?

Friday, August 26, 2022

Testing

 This is a test. It will be deleted later, but I want to see if I can get my email notifications to work.

So here goes nothing!

It looks like I might have to add emails individually. So, if you aren't getting emails about my posts and want to get them, send me a message with your email or if I have your email, just let me know and I'll add you.

Kate & Kylie - Part 4

 Good morning and happy Friday!

Yes, Friday. Again. The 26th of August to be exact. How it can possibly be almost the end of August is still a puzzlement to me. I mean I am looking forward to fall and stuff, but everything is moving way too quickly. I've hardly written a thing all month! I blame part of that on Little League. :) But that's okay. It wasn't all the fault of Little League. There were some other things going on this month that made my brain feel like it couldn't create, but now it's getting back into the creative mood.

I got Lawrence & Lenexa corrected and will start formatting it soon. I still have to get a synopsis and design a cover for it. Not sure when either of those will happen, but hopefully I can publish this book within a few months if not sooner.

Things are going to be busy today and tomorrow.

Today Dad and I are going to repaint one wall in the living room because when we redid the room next to it last year, we widened the doorway, which meant we had to take all the trim off. We also had some other things that scratched up or messed up the wall. We had painted over those but it was with a satin paint instead of a flat, so we have shiny spots on the wall. But once we get it repainted, Dad can finally get the trim up. Then I'm hoping to maybe get the rest of the spackling done in the hall and on the trim pieces that get put up in the living room. I don't know if I'll get to paint over all the nail holes I filled in or not since I have to wait until Dad caulks some places that are too wide for spackling.

Tomorrow there are a lot of volleyball games that my oldest niece and four oldest nephews are playing in. I don't know how many my mom and sister will be at, and if any of the younger nieces and nephews will come over here to hang out and play or take naps. (We live a few blocks away from where the games are played.) So Saturday is going to be a we'll-see-what-happens sort of day. 

Well, I hope you enjoy this next part of this story. I need to figure out what else I should post on here since I can't give you all of Kate & Kylie. Anyway, enjoy!

 

 Kate & Kylie
Part 4

The moment Mitch disappeared, several of the girls from Kylie’s group rushed over.
    “Are you okay, Miss Kylie?”
    “I can’t believe Jeff had that potato gun in the restaurant!”
    “Does it hurt really bad?”
    “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
    “Do you have to go to the hospital?”
    Somehow Kylie managed to smile and reassure them that besides having a headache, she was fine and hungry. “Go back and eat lunch. Your parents will be around to pick you all up in a little while.”

*


    “Kylie? Earth to Kylie.”
    With a blush, Kylie brought her mind back to the present. “Sorry. Just remembering another time.”
    “Like our first lunch together? I’m not sure we could call it a date since there was a room full of kids.”
    “Yeah, kids with potato guns that we somehow didn’t know about.” Kylie rubbed her head as though she still felt the throbbing headache. “I still can’t believe someone was crazy or dumb enough to mess around with one of those in a restaurant of all places.”
    “Somehow,” Mitch said, “I don’t think they ever tried that again. Giving you a concussion scared everyone. Even me.”
    Kylie glanced around the room and then back to Mitch. “I was thankful you were there. I did not want to be hauled off to a hospital instead of going home.”
    “Crazy how accidents keep bringing us together. First the potato gun, then the little girl at the fireworks.”
    “Actually, you were already sitting at my table before that potato hit me,” Kylie retorted.
    “True.”
    Their lunch was brought out, and after Mitch had asked a quiet blessing over their meal, they began to eat.
    “So,” Mitch said into the momentary lull of talk brought on by both beginning to eat, “what have you been doing for two years?”
    That was the question Kylie had secretly been dreading. She had hoped to ask him first and get him talking. She shrugged. “Not much. What about you?”
    Placing one elbow on the table as though settling in for a debate, Mitch narrowed his twinkling eyes at her. “Oh, no, you don’t. That answer is not an answer.”
    “It is so,” Kylie retorted.
    “Details, Kys.”
    In an effort to buy more time, Kylie took a bite of her meal. Mitch did the same, his eyes never leaving her face. Kylie dropped her gaze and began playing with her fork. The last two years were empty as far as anything interesting went.
    “Come on, Kys, I know you must have done something in the two years since we’ve been in contact.”
    She shook her head. “Not really. I kept living with my aunt and took care of her until she passed away last year. Then I house sat for some friends who were going to be gone for six months. After that I came to live with Kate and Joe since he was often gone for training and she was pregnant.” She gave a shrug and prepared to take another bite. “Your turn.”
    “If all we’re giving are the bare minimum, my two years are even more boring than yours,” Mitch teased. “I took that internship in Geneva, Switzerland, and then finished my internship here in the States. I got my license, and now I’m working here at the hospital as a doctor.”
    “What was it like in Switzerland?”
    “I’ll answer if you promise to answer my questions.”
    Wondering if she’d regret it later, Kylie agreed. She hoped she could just keep Mitch busy or that Kate would call, for she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about her two boring years.
    For several minutes Mitch shared stories about his time in Geneva working in a hospital, and Kylie listened with interest. She used to dream of traveling, but life wasn’t going the way she had thought it would.
    “Your turn.”
    “Um, okay.” Kylie took a bite.
    “Why don’t you want to talk about what you’ve been doing?”
    Startled by Mitch’s question, Kylie choked on her chicken and started coughing.
    “You okay?”
    Taking a drink, she nodded. “Fine.” She coughed a few more times and then wiped away the tears that had come. “Sorry.”
    “So? Why don’t you want to talk about what you’ve been doing?”
    She drew a quick breath. Might as well tell him. “I haven’t done anything, Mitch. My life was dull, boring and–well, all those things we used to talk about didn’t happen. I didn’t change anyone’s life or make the world a better place because of something I did. I just lived with my aunt, took care of a house, and then came to live with my sister and her husband. It was pretty pathetic as far as making a difference goes.”
    “Did your aunt need your help?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Then her life was better because of the help and care you gave her. Did you attend church, meet anyone new, interact with anyone when you house-sat.–It’s rather strange to think of house-sitting, like it needed you to feed it or something–” He paused and chuckled. “Anyway, did you become involved at all with anything?”
    “Yeah, I kept going to the same church we attended, and I met the neighbors. But they didn’t need me. I didn’t change anything by staying at that house.”
    Mitch had finished eating and now pushed his plate away. Folding his arms on the table, he leaned forward. “So you kept teaching and helping with the youth events at church?”
    Kylie nodded.
    “Then you have no idea what will happen to the seeds you planted in the minds of those kids.”
    “Anyone could have done that, or taken care of Aunt Luan, or mowed Mr. Gressup’s yard, or done any of those things, Mitch. I wanted to do something different–special. I–” She looked down at her phone and checked the time. “I should probably go.”
    “Kys,” Mitch’s voice was quiet. “Are you running away, or does Kate need you?” 

 

What is your favorite season?
Have you ever traveled to another country?
Do you have a busy or quiet weekend planned?


Friday, August 19, 2022

Lawrence & Lenexa - Part 3

 Good morning!

How can it be Friday again? We just had Friday. And it certainly should NOT be the 19th of August! This is crazy. Where is the "slow down" button? This week has been . . . busy.

Saturday my sis and I watched kids for a ladies fellowship at church for a few hours.

Sunday was quiet which was nice.

Monday I worked on trying to get some different things done like making corrections in the Christmas play.

Tuesday my mom, sis, and I went up to KC to help my aunt for the day.

Wednesday it rained. So lovely! And I was tired and trying to catch up on things, and the Little League World Series started so I watched some games.

Thursday we had almost all my nieces and nephews from 11-4. Then more Little League games.

Today I need to clean the house and  . . . well, I'm not sure what all. My brain feels a little overloaded with things and I'm not sure what I should do first.

On the writing front, I haven't written anything this week. Between being gone and watching Little League, I just haven't been inclined to write. And I'm not sure which to work on. Besides, I still need to make the corrections in Lawrence & Lenexa. Still no idea for a cover. I've tried about 5 different versions and nothing is working. 

It's nice out this morning so I think we'll go walk. Enjoy this next part of L & L.

 

 Lawrence & Lenexa
Part 3

    “Lawrence Johnson!” Their mother’s voice in the doorway interrupted their talk. “How many times have I told you not to sit on the floor with your school clothes on? You’ll ruin them. And Lenexa, honey, lounging like that is a good way to give you back troubles later on in life.”
    Lawrence rose and picked up his backpack. “Sorry, Mom. I forgot I hadn’t changed.”
    Lenexa sat up. “Mom, can we do something together this weekend?”
    Mrs. Johnson glanced down at her watch. “Like what, Lenexa?”
    “Oh, I don’t know, have a picnic or go to the park. You know, something fun.”
    “I don’t see how we can fit one more thing into this weekend, Lenexa. Dad has a very important meeting with a client tomorrow at one. And you know that Sunday is my bridge club. But maybe you can play golf with your father then. But change quickly now. We are eating supper early tonight.” She stepped from doorway into the hall. “Lawrence.”
    “Yeah?” Lawrence called from behind the closed door of his room.
    Mrs. Johnson sighed. “I do wish you wouldn’t shout, son. We are eating supper early so don’t take a long time changing. And make sure you put on proper dinner clothing, not shorts and a T-shirt this evening.”
    “I won’t, Mom.”
    Lenexa opened the door of her room and stood still.
    “Lenexa Marie Elizabeth Johnson!” her mother exclaimed. “Surely you were not planning on wearing that to the dinner table!”
    Glancing down, Lenexa didn’t see anything amiss. “Why not? What’s wrong with it?”
    “Your slip is showing at least half an inch. Now either find a different slip, or put on a different dress. One that is long enough to look decent.”
    “Can I just wear it without the slip? It’s just for supper–”
    “Absolutely not. No child of mine is going to come to the table half undressed. Now hurry. Your father won’t want to be kept waiting.”
    Shutting the door, Lenexa hurried back to her closet. The trouble was she had been growing. Her dresses were looking shorter, and most of her slips were too small. Except the one she was wearing. After trying on three dresses and finding that the slip still showed. Lenexa was desperate. Her mother had called her twice, and the tone of her voice said her patience was nearly gone. Grabbing a couple of safety pins, Lenexa pulled up the waistband of the slip and folded it over, pinning it in place. It was difficult to pin the back evenly, and she finally gave up trying. “As long as it doesn’t show it should work.”
    In the hall, Mrs. Johnson eyed her daughter’s outfit carefully. “You do have a slip on, right?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Then let us go down to dinner. Mr. Edger and his wife are joining us for dessert, but you and Lawrence won’t be required to eat with us.”
    Lenexa merely nodded. Mr. Edger, a lawyer from the same firm where her father worked, was friendly when alone, but neither Lenexa nor her brother cared for his wife.

*


    Mounting the stairs to their rooms, the twins looked at each other and sighed. It had been a long evening. Supper had been all right though it was a bit rushed, for the Edgers were known to be early. They were early. A whole twenty minutes early. Mrs. Johnson had the table cleared away quickly even though Lawrence was still eating. After the twins had greeted their guests politely, they were excused to eat their dessert outside. There they had remained until it began to grow dark.
    “I’m glad Mrs. Cook let me eat something else after dessert,” Lawrence murmured to his sister. “I might have starved before breakfast tomorrow.”
    “You wouldn’t have starved, Larry,” Lenexa retorted with a grin. “But you might have been awfully hungry.” Stopping in the hall, she asked, “What are we going to do tomorrow?”
    “Sleep in. Then I don’t know what. I wish we had those papers to fill out for camp.”
    Lenexa sighed. “Yeah, me too. Well, I’m going to bed. Night, Larry.”
    “Good night, Lexi.”

*


    Saturday, Sunday, and then Monday finally dragged their slow, reluctant days away, and then it was Tuesday.
    Lenexa was late for breakfast and had to rush through her meal in order to leave for school on time. There was no time to talk with her brother until they were in the car, and even then she couldn’t very well bring up the subject that was foremost in her mind.
    All during school that morning Lenexa fought to stay focused. Catching her brother’s arm in the hall, she dragged him to the side and whispered, “Do you think she’s put it there yet?”
    Lawrence shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s go eat.” He started down the hall toward the stairs.
    Keeping step with him, Lenexa wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “What if she gives the papers to Mom? Or forgets to bring them?”
    “If she forgets than we’ll have to wait until Saturday. If she gives them to Mom, well–” He waited for a few students to hurry ahead of them down the stairs. “If Mom gets them then I’m guessing we’ll either have to do some pretty fancy persuading and hope we can get Dad on our side, or we’ll just have to forget the whole thing, listen to our lecture, and go to our usual camp.”
    “Oh!” Lenexa moaned. She felt like sitting down on the stairs but knew she’d get a lecture if a teacher saw her.
    “Come on, Lex, buck up. We only have a few more hours before we know.” Lawrence didn’t feel as confident as he tried to sound. Though he wouldn’t admit it then, he was worried too.
    
    Somehow the twins managed to finish the school day without any reprimands for absentmindedness, and they met each other at the door. Lenexa’s face was eager and excited.
    “You look too eager, Lex,” Lawrence murmured, as they were swept along by the crowd. “Mom might notice.”

How was your week? Busy? Slow? Normal?
Have you ever watched any Little League games?
Do you ever wonder which thing you should work on first?