Monday, February 26, 2018

TUESDAY TALES - "CABINET" WORD PROMPT. More "Two of Hearts"...




Welcome! The word prompt this week is "cabinet". There will only be a few more episodes of "Two of Hearts." Then we'll move on to one of my short stories, "The One Who Got Away." 
Scroll down to go back to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

********************************

She opened the cabinet in the credenza. Bingo! She found his stash on the first try. There were three bottles of vodka in there. That meant he had one he was working on. Forced to discuss the issue, she prepared a fresh pot of coffee first.
“Stan! I have a fresh coffee. Want some?”
“Nah,” he called from the bedroom. “What time is it?”
“Five,” she replied.
“Forget the coffee. It’s cocktail hour.” He fastened the sash on his terry robe as he wandered out of the bedroom and plopped down on the sofa.
Cocktail hour? Jen’s blood began to boil. “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” she started.
“Cocktail hour? It’s been five ever since I can remember. Would you make me a vodka tonic?”
“No.” She sauntered in with her mug of java and joined him on the couch.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I know you’re drinking. Drinking heavily. I found the bottles you hid in the trash and your secret supply, too.”
“What? I didn’t hide anything. This is my house and if I want to drink vodka, I’ll drink vodka.”
“Stan. You know what the doctor said.”
“Are you gonna sit there and lecture me?”
“What if I am?”
“It’s my life, Jen. Mine. Not yours.” He pushed to his feet and went to the sideboard.
“It’s my life, too, Stan. That’s what you don’t seem to understand.”
“Really? So you’re in jeopardy of dropping dead from a stroke or having your brain fail you at any time?”
“Well, no, but…”
“No buts! I am. My life is in jeopardy. And if alcohol makes it better, then I’m gonna drink.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “You’re shortening your life.”            
“It’s my life to shorten. You think this is living? My brain injury is probably permanent. Or it would be better by now.”
“You don’t know that,” she argued, though secretly she agreed with him.
“This isn’t living for me. It’s existing. I know this affects you, too. But you’re young You can build another life. I can’t.”
She stared at her hands as the tears ran down her cheeks.
“Please, Jen. Baby, honey. Let me do what I want.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Does it make you feel better?”
“It does. I’m calmer. Stuff doesn’t bother me so much. If I forget something, I just chalk it off to the booze.” He padded to the kitchen and filled a glass with ice.
“So you’re hiding behind it?”
“Okay. Yeah. Maybe. Maybe I’m hiding behind it. But that’s my choice.”
“I love you so much, Stan. I don’t want you to die. I know this is a different you, but it’s still you. And I want you, any way I can get you, around forever.”

He sighed and swirled his ice cubes. “But that’s not what I want. I don’t want to leave you, but every day, yes, every day, I see how much I'm failing you. You used to be able to count on me. And I was there. Now I’m useless. You can’t count on me for being anything but a burden. It’s killing me.”
“You’re not a burden,” she lied.
He laughed. “Liar. I am, and you know it.”


Monday, February 19, 2018

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "COZY" - "TWO OF HEARTS" continues...




Welcome! Another episode today with the word prompt "cozy." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by. 

***************************************************

Jen put her arms around him. For the first time, ever, Stan melted into her embrace, allowing her to comfort him. It shook her to her roots. Her heart swelled in their cozy moment.
“You’re not going to die, Stan.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I mean, we’re all going to die, eventually.”
“This isn’t living for me. I can’t write. I can’t teach. My mind is mush. I don’t know if that’s ever going to get better. It could get worse, too. The doctor didn’t rule that out.”
“You’re doing everything you can. Eating healthy, resting. All we can do is wait.”
“I hate waiting. I’m not a patient guy.”
“Is that why you’re drinking?”
“It reduces the stress. Relaxes me.”
“I get it. Just don’t overdo it, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
“I love you Stan. I’ll never leave you,” Jen said before tears choked her.
“I know you didn’t sign on for this. I’m sorry. If I could do it over, I’d throw that fuckin’ motorcycle in the Hudson River.”
“And I’d help you,” she added.
Then he’d kissed her. Passion between them rekindled, although not quite at the same heat level they had had before.  Without the cast, maneuvering was easier. Still, Stan’s potency and stamina had not returned full force. With effort, they each managed to climax. Uncoupling and catching their breath, they lay back. Stan laced his fingers with hers as he stared at the ceiling.
“That was great,” she lied.
He tuned his head to face her. “Great? I don’t think so. We’ve had great and that wasn’t even close. But it was okay. Better than nothing, at least for you, I’d guess. Quite a bit better for me.”
“That’s good.”
No point in arguing, Stan would see right through it. He'd nailed it –not great, but okay would do.
“Do you remember the first time?” She asked, rolling on her side.

****************************************************

BACK TO TUESDAY TALES

MY WEBSITE

Monday, February 12, 2018

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT! "TWO OF HEARTS" continues...



It's picture prompt week. That means we write to a picture and no more than 300 words! Today we're in Terry's point-of-view as he flies out to the West Coast to spend the weekend with his wife, Clare.
Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. As always, thank you for stopping by. I hope you like our new banner.  


**************************** 


   They’d had breakfast dressed in fluffy white robes by the picture window. It had been a sumptuous feast including eggs benedict, croissants, and champagne.  
   At breakfast, Clare started to talk and didn’t stop all weekend. Terry didn’t tire of listening to her. She had had exciting experiences, while he had simply lived his mundane life. She talked about famous actors she’d met, and directors, too. The group had taken field trips to studio sets and gone on location with film crews.
   Then there were the classes. She’d had writing assignments brutally critiqued in class by experts. Clare had confessed to being stimulated and scared at the same time. She’d missed snuggling up with him at night.
   “I didn’t realize how much you kinda take care of me.”
   “Me? You’re the one cooking and doing the housework.”
   “That’s not what I mean. You’re there, if there’s trouble. You bail me out. Help fix stuff.”
   “You mean the faucet?”
   “That and other things. Like fights with friends. I never realized how much I depend on you.”
   He grinned. He’d take all the gratitude he could get. “Glad to know I serve some useful purpose outside of being your lover.”
   She had that cute little smile she got when she was being flirty with him. “And you do that so well.”

   They had done the jacuzzi, then walked for miles, schlepping a picnic lunch and dining al fresco. They’d even found a secluded spot to make love outside. The two days had been a second honeymoon. 
   He hadn’t felt this good in years. Rejuvenated, his love renewed, his heart beat steady and his mind at rest, Terry hated to leave. But he had gotten what he had come for –a reminder that they loved each other, deeply, and nothing could break that bond. 


MY WEBSITE

Sunday, February 4, 2018

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "ANGRY"



Welcome! Our word prompt today is "angry." We have another episode of "Two of Hearts" with Jen this week. Scroll down to return to the excellent authors of Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by.

*********************************** 


The pot was empty. She refilled it and hit “brew”. Next to the coffeemaker, but hidden by the sugar canister was an empty bottle. Jen pulled it out. A flask of brandy –empty. She nodded. That explained why Stan had been drinking so much coffee lately. A chill ran up her spine.
“That piece of shit! He couldn’t fuck his way out of a paper bag,” Stan roared from the living room.
The image tickled Jen. Walking into the living room with the empty in her hand, she laughed.
“That’s funny?”
“The image of Carl fucking a paper bag is damn funny,” she replied.
Stan calmed. “I suppose it is. Didn’t mean it to be.”
“He said he’d be married to me if you hadn’t of locked him in his room.”
Stan looked blank for a moment. “I don’t recall.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I fired him.”
“You did the right thing.”
“Yeah? Now we have no lawyer and no financial advisor,” she said.
“You’ll find someone else,” Stan said.
“What’s this about, Stan?” Jen held up the empty bottle.
“What? I like a little brandy with my coffee sometimes. It’s not against the law.”
“You’ve started drinking again, haven’t you?”
“Not really. Just a little here and there. Helps me sleep. Calms me down.”
“Drinking decaf might do the same thing.”
He stared at her, his mouth set in a hard line.
“How much are you drinking?” She asked.
“Just a shot in my coffee or a little vodka in my o.j.”
“This isn’t good. The doctor said…
“The doctor said a little is okay. If it makes me feel better, relaxes me so I can sleep, he said I could.”
“But how long before it escalates? You’ve been down this road before. I don’t need to tell you, do I?
 “I know, I know. I can control it this time. I’m not going to end up like that. Really. It’s okay, Jen. Stop hounding me.” He picked up his cane and hobbled toward the bedroom.
Her eyes watered. Life, control, order, and peace seemed to be disintegrating into chaos. All she needed was Stan to become addicted to alcohol again. He’d kicked it before she came along. There’d be no way she could stay and tolerate alcoholic behavior. But how could she leave him? Not only did she love him, but someone needed to take care of him. Of course, he had the money to pay someone, but that wasn’t the same as the care you got from someone who loved you.
She checked her watch. It was time to take Willie and Queenie for a walk. Thankful for the chance to get away for a bit, she called to the pooches, who trotted over. She stopped by the bedroom and called in to Stan.
“I’m taking the dogs for a walk. I’ll be back,” she said.
He didn’t respond. Either he was asleep or angry. She didn’t care. She silently thanked Mother Nature for a cloudy, cool day. They hit the Great Lawn. Jen broke the rules by letting the dogs go off-leash. Willie barked at Queenie and within the blink of a large, brown eye, the two were racing around chasing each other. Jen shut off troubling thoughts and watched, amused as the pugs played. Why couldn’t life be simple like that?