TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "YEAR"

Welcome! This week, we start a new story. It's so new, it doesn't really have a name. Tentatively titled "The Chase," here is the first episode. The word prompt this week is "year." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 

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Rennie Silver sat in her small apartment staring into the tiny fireplace. Wind howled, rattling her windows. Determined to burn regardless of it’s size, the fire warmed her feet resting a foot or two from the flames.

It was December. The weather was shitty, and her life was shitty, too. A freelance writer, all her assignments has been put on hold until after the holiday. Her boyfriend of two years, Todd, had run off to Europe with his boss.

Rennie’s parents were on a cruise and her sister was in rehab in California. She sighed. Yeah, dad had told her to take a staff job. She would make friends. But did she listen? No. And now, here she was, alone for the holidays.

She wiped away tears of self-pity then sucked down her third hot chocolate of the day. If she gained weight, so what? No one would notice or even care. She turned on the television and found a Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel. Snuggling up under a hand-made throw, she hit play, just as there was a knock on the door.

Cursing quietly, she threw the blanket off, dusted scone crumbs off her sweatshirt and padded to the front door in thick, warm socks. She shuddered as she glanced in the mirror. Boy, she’d sure let herself go to hell, hadn’t she? She blew her nose, straightened her top and pulled up her leggings before peeking through the peephole.

A gold and navy rep tie stared back at her. Hmm. A man. Strange man. She had no idea who could be bothering her at five o’clock on a frigid Tuesday.

“Who is it?”

“Tim Chadwick. You don’t know me. I’m a real estate agent. Can you please answer a question for me?”

Rennie put the chain on the door and cracked it open.

The best-looking guy she'd seen all year stood outside. With sandy hair and curious gray eyes, the man calling himself Tim bent down to make eye contact. Why did she always run into gorgeous guys when she looked like crap? 

“What do you want?” 

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK

   Welcome! This week we have a picture prompt. I chose the eagle. We have another episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Thanks for stopping by. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 

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   Laura looked around the bus station and didn’t see George, or anyone with a sign with her name on it.

“Shame on you, Laura Fleming, you spoiled child.” She chided herself quietly.

So C.W. forgot to send the car. Since they weren’t speaking, she hadn’t sent him her schedule. Her fault, too. 

   The bus station teemed with people. She almost got knocked down three times. No way could she find a cab now. She trudged up the stairs to the subway lugging her heavy suitcase. Allowing her pride to get in the way was incredibly stupid.

   Fortunately the valise had wheels. When she reached the street at seventy-ninth street, a cold wind reddened her nose. She made her way up Amsterdam. Looking up she noticed the clouds had darkened. Did that mean snow? Not paying attention, she stepped into the street.

A loud screech and the impudent bark of a car horn drew her attention.

“Madam!” came the cry in a British accent.

Laura folded her wool head scarf back and stared at the driver.

“George?”

“Good Lord! Miss Laura?” The car lurched into park. The back door flew open.

“Laura! Are you all right?”

Well, if it wasn’t C.W. Banley himself. Her mouth hung open.

“Are you all right?” He drew her into his embrace.  

“Fine. Fine.”

“What are you doing here?” He held her at arm’s length.

“I’m coming to spend Christmas with you. Where were you going? To pick me up at the station?”

“We’re going to spend Christmas in Pine Grove, with you!”

Laura’s gaze locked with his. She burst into laughter. So did he. The strident, hoarse, insistent blaring of car horns interrupted them.

“Come, sweetheart. Get in. We’ll drive you home.”

George had jumped out from the driver’s seat. He secured her luggage in the trunk. Swear words rained down on them from angry motorists. George threw the car into drive and made the left turn a second before the light changed. Before long, they were whizzing along the Palisades Parkway.

Laura snuggled up to her lover. He drew her close.

“That was a close call.” He sighed.

“Oh, dear. If I had reached your house and you weren’t there, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You’re sensible. You would have come off your stubborn pride and called me.”

   She laughed. He knew her too well. They chatted, catching up on everything that had happened since they stopped speaking. Heat pumped into the back seat of the limousine, warming her feet.

“Oh, that feels good.”

   As they neared Cedar Lake, the heaviness surrounding her heart lifted. She glanced out the window.

“Look! Look! An eagle!” she pointed.

Craig sat forward and peered out. “By God,  it is. What a magnificent bird.”

“And big, too.”

“We have eagles here, Craig. You don’t have those in New York City.”

“No, we don’t. And you have something else here, too.”

“What’s that?”

“The love of my life,” he whispered, before kissing her.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "FROZEN" - ANOTHER EPISODE OF "THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS"

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "frozen." We continue with "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas". Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by!

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Laura picked up the phone. “That’s right, Mr. Gladstone, I’m going to New York City for Christmas. Can you please fill the bird feeders while I'm gone?”

“Of course, Miss Fleming. No problem. Key still under the mat?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

“Have a great time. Merry Christmas, Laura.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Laura packed a bag with enough clothes for three days and crammed in her gifts for Craig and George. Peeking out her bedroom window, she spied gray, roiling clouds.

Placing her palm on the window, she noted the cold. Hmm, snow had been forecast. Checking her watch, she didn’t have time to call a taxi to get to the bus station. She’d walk. It wasn’t far. Grabbing her wool coat, she skipped down the stairs.

The temperature had dropped and she’d forgotten to put on boots. When she arrived at the bus station, her toes were frozen. She bought her ticket and hopped on the bus. This would be a good Christmas after all, even if she had to travel to Manhattan. She slipped off her shoes and rubbed her feet. The door of the bus closed, and headed for the highway. Perfect time for a nap. She sat back and closed her eyes, knowing the sway of the bus would lull her to sleep.

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West 81^st Street, New York City

“George, did you call to have the car brought around?”

“I did, sir, but they are very busy. Holiday and all.”

“We’re not in a hurry, are we?”

“Not really. Have you called Miss Laura to tell her we’re coming out tonight?”

“Damn! I knew I forgot something!” Craig ripped his cell phone from his breast pocket. He dialed, but it went to voicemail. “Shit! She’s probably out celebrating with some lumberjack.” He grumbled, shoving his phone in his back pocket.

“I seriously doubt that, Sir. Miss Fleming is loyal to you.”

“You think so?”

“I’d put money on it.”

Craig sank down in his chair. “You’re probably right. So where is she?”

George shook his head. “Did you ever clear up with her that we planned to join her for the holiday?”

“I meant to. But with all the business crap we had to tie up before going, it slipped my mind. Guess I figured she’d have figured out that I’d come around. You know how I am.”

“I do, indeed, sir. But I’m not sure Miss Laura is as up-to-speed about you yet.”

“So where is she?” There was a plaintive note in his voice.

“I don’t know, sir. I just hope she’s not on her way here.”

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "THANKS"

Welcome! The word prompt this week is "Thanks". How appropriate!  We have another episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 
Thanks for stopping by. 

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The next morning, Laura wandered around, frowning, and restless. Should she pack up and go to New York, like she always did? Or stand her ground with thankless C.W. and spend Christmas alone, if he didn’t relent? Neither prospect improved her mood. A sudden chirping outside her window drew her attention. The chickadees were standing on the empty feeder, scolding her.

Laura retrieved the bag of bird seed, and went out on the back porch. As she was filling the feeders, Mr. Gladstone appeared. Her elderly, widowed neighbor often stopped to chat “over the back fence” with Laura. Occasionally she’d invite him in for tea.

Poor old creature, alone after so many years of marriage. He had no one to talk to, just like her. That thought brought a frown to her face. She wasn’t any better off, was she? With Craig in the City and her in Pine Grove, she was as alone as Mr. Gladstone.

“Morning, Miss Fleming.”

“Morning, Mr. Gladstone.”

“I see the chickadees don’t approve of your falling down on the job.”

She laughed. “They certainly do not.”

“When are you heading to the big City?”

“New York?”

“You always go for Christmas, don’t you?”

“I have in the past. But not this year.”

“Broke it off with your young man?”

Laura shook her head. Would this mean the end for her and Craig?

“Then why aren’t you going.” The old man certainly was nosy, wasn’t he? None of his darn business, and she’d not tell the old geezer.

“Good reasons. Good reasons.” 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude or nosy, but you always seem so happy about your Christmas trip. Can’t say you look happy today.”

“People aren’t happy all the time, you know.” Her tone was sharper than she expected.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "FUDGE"

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "fudge". We have another episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales.Thanks for stopping by.

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Laura attended the town meeting. One needed to be there to find out what was going on in town. Which decrepit old buildings were being torn down and which new zoning laws were going into effect? Besides, they always served refreshments afterward. 

That’s when the folks running the town socialized. 

“So, Laura, are you going to get involved in our Christmas Fest again this year?” Jess Lennox poured milk in her coffee.

“Well.” Eyeing the plate of homemade fudge, Laura hesitated.

“Isn’t your boyfriend coming this year? We want to put on a great show for him.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Jess cocked an eyebrow.

Laura bit into a square of fudge to stall for time. She sensed a blush in her cheeks. Damn, Craig! The last thing she wanted was to start gossip about her relationship.

“He may have to work.” She lied, taking another bite.

“On Christmas?” Jess stared at her.

“It’s not been decided yet. You go ahead with the plans. Don’t count on Craig being here.”

Yes, that’s right, don’t count on him. Don’t ever count on him, just count on yourself. She swallowed, then washed down her bitter thoughts with coffee. Jess put her hand on Laura’s arm.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe next year. Do you want to get involved? Or would you rather forget it?”

“I want to be involved. It’s my favorite time of the year.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. We’re having a meeting in the library at the B and B tomorrow. Just a half dozen of us, so I’m serving dinner. Will you come?”

Relief flooded Laura. At least someone wanted her. “I’d be happy to.”

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK - ANOTHER EPISODE OF "THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS."

Welcome! This week we write to picture prompts. This is Craig Banley's townhouse in Manhattan. I continue with his story this week and more of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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“I took the liberty, Sir. The longjohns arrived yesterday.”

Anger heated Craig’s face. “What the hell? When I told you I wasn’t going?”

“I knew you’d come to your senses.”

“You’re trying to control me.”

“Love is controlling you, Sir. And it’s about time. You’re not getting any younger. You don’t want to be a bitter old man living alone.” George opened the package.

“Let me see.” Craig held them up. He laughed. “They’re like those stupid pajamas you put on kids.”

“You won’t think they’re stupid when the thermometer dips below zero.”

“Below zero?” Craig’s mouth hung open.

“Exactly.”

“Is that what it’s going to be in Pine Grove?”

“Could be. It’s happened before.”

“You’re just trying to scare me.”

“Is it working?” Craig caught the gleam in George’s eye.

Craig’s anger melted into a chuckle. “Yes.”

“Good. Forget about the weather, because we have these long johns, for both top and bottom.”

Craig cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course. We want you cozy and warm in Miss Laura’s abode.”

“You mean not freezing my balls off?”

“Precisely. Though I might have put it more delicately.”

“Of course you would. But it’s only us here.”

“I hope you’re going to watch your language in Pine Grove. Miss Laura doesn’t use profanity and I’m not sure her friends would appreciate your swearing a blue streak any time you don’t get your way.”

“You make me sound like a brat.”

“If the moniker fits…”

“George!”

“Kidding. Just kidding. You’re a man who knows what he wants.”

“And he wants Laura Fleming.” Craig examined the underwear.

“And he’s willing to do whatever she wants, right?”

Craig sighed.  “You’ve hit the nail on the head.”

“Come. Let’s decide what else you should be packing.”

“My usual?”

“I think not. I’ve purchased a few flannel shirts and new jeans, Sir. Seems those would be more fitting.”

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "HOWL" - ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS!

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week the word prompt is "howl." Again we have more of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." 
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West 81^st Street, New York City

Craig stood at the front window, coffee cup in hand. George sat on the sofa behind him.

“We’re going to Pine Grove for Christmas,” George said.

“Nope. Don’t think so.” Craig shook his head once.

“Why?”

“Because it’s going to be freezing. I’ll have to wear long underwear. I’m not doing it.”

“Even for the woman you profess to love?” George cocked an eyebrow.

Craig turned to face him. “It’s not about her. But why can’t she come here?”

“You whine like a spoiled child.” George put down his tea cup.

“It’s a good thing I need you. People get fired for talking to their bosses like that.”

“Go ahead, fire me. Howl bloody murder. Whine, complain and throw a tantrum. It falls on deaf ears.” George pushed to his feet.

“Don’t go.” Craig reached out to grip George’s coat sleeve.

“Why should I stay and watch this, this disgrace. You have the loveliest woman in the world in love with you. And you don’t deserve her. Not for one second.” George ripped his sleeve away.

“You jealous?”

George puffed himself up. “I’ve already had the most wonderful woman in the world as my wife. You’re the one who should be jealous of me. Although she’s no longer here, I have the most exquisite memories.  You can’t imagine.”

“You’re right. I’ve always envied you.”

“Then get yourself together. Buy long johns and start packing.”

Craig sighed. “But…”

“I’m done here.” George left the room.

Craig sighed. George was right. He was always right. Craig knew he had to go, but could he put on a happy face when he was miserable, shaking with the cold, putting up with the hick town holiday routines as hokey as his uncle’s? This might be his biggest challenge.

“George!” Craig called to his assistant. “Where the hell do I find long johns?” 

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BLACK" - ANOTHER EPISODE OF "THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS."

Howdy! Welcome. This week we have another episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by.

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Pine Grove, two weeks before Christmas

A week had passed with no word from either Craig or George. Laura carried her mug of coffee to the picture window in the dining room to watch the birds at the feeder. A titmouse tried to muscle out a chickadee, but the little black-and-white bird stood his ground.

She took a pen from behind her ear and pulled a list from her purse. When Craig balked at spending the holiday at her house, she’d taken stock of the place and found it wanting. What she’d seen as cozy now appeared shabby and in need of repair. Of course, he couldn’t be happy in such a rundown house. He was used to perfection and her farmhouse was way wide of the mark.

With only two weeks until Christmas, could they finish the project? Since Craig refused to join her, did it matter what her house looked like? George had given her hope. She had to at least try to fix up the place. When she returned from New York, she’d contacted her friend, Jess Lennox and her brother, Will, who was a carpenter. The young man could fix or build anything.  

“I need to spruce up my house. Can you do it, Will?”

“What do you mean spruce up?”

“Make it perfect.”

He’d laughed.

“Old farmhouses aren’t meant to be perfect.”

“But that’s what Craig’s used to. How close can we get?”

“In three weeks? I’m not a miracle worker.”

Together they’d made a plan.  

Laura took a sip of coffee as her eyes perused the list. She spoke aloud, though she was alone. She ticked off the completed projects.

“Paint the kitchen. Check. New toilet in both bathrooms. Check. New tile on the kitchen floor, check.”

Chewing on the end of the pen, she looked over the projects yet to be finished. “Fix the front steps. Paint my room. George won’t mind if his room isn’t freshly painted. Oh, dear. I must add, paint the living and dining rooms.” She scribbled the additions.

She sighed. Would there be time? Even with the house looking its best, she still couldn’t fix the fact that it would be drafty and maybe chilly, depending on the weather. Craig wouldn’t be comfortable. Was it worth it to do all this, if he refused to come anyway?

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT IS "PROMPT"! ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE HOUSE-SITTER'S COUNTRY CHRISTMAS.

Welcome! This week we have another episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." Thanks for stopping by. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 

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Once she hit the street, Laura paused, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. What had she done? She’d blown off Christmas with the man she loved. Damn! 

She never considered herself bad-tempered. Her mother had reassured her she had the sweetest temperament of any of her five children. But since she’d been seeing Craig Banley, Jr., she flared up at the smallest slight.

Her conscience pricked. She’d always criticized him for his short temper, and here she was, stomping around like a regular spoiled brat. She chuckled. Craig had cornered the market on spoiled brats. She’d been working on him nearly a year and he’d improved. What could have prompted her to take on his bad habits?

As she ambled toward Broadway to catch the subway, she recalled his silly concern about how the temperature of her house. He’d put off visiting, taking her to beautiful hotels on pristine North Shore beaches all summer. Or to the mountains. He’d rented a glorious mountain retreat where they had total privacy –at least for ten days, while George took his vacation.

But Christmas was coming, and the holiday in Pine Grove was glorious. She sighed as she pushed through the turnstile. She’d done it. Faced off with him. And now the most stubborn man on the planet had planted his feet firmly and wouldn’t budge. And she’d have to spend the holiday alone.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. How could she love such a man? Craig could be sweet and generous to a fault. But he was set in his ways. At the bus station, she found a quiet corner and called George, Craig’s right-hand man.

After fumbling around for words, emotion stole her breath.

“Don’t worry, Miss Laura. I’ll take care of it.”

“Can you, George? You know how he is.”

A chuckle on the other end of the wire gave her hope.

“Indeed I do. And I thought you were wiser.”

“So did I. I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t worry. Go ahead with your preparations. Craig will be there, if I have to tie him up in a straitjacket.”

“Oh, good. Thank you. Oh! I don’t mean about the straitjacket.”

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - First episode of "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas."

Because I was nearing the end of my urban fantasy tale, I have decided to stop posting that. Watch for news of the story coming out as an ebook, complete with an unexpected ending. 

I'm turning my mind toward the holidays now and writing that much anticipated and late-as-heck story, "The House-Sitter's Country Christmas." I hope you'll stick with me and enjoy this new story. Yes, I started it once before, but there have been changes made. 

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New York City, three weeks before Christmas

“Craig, darling, do you have longjohns?”

“What?” He looked up from his coffee to meet Laura’s gaze. A shiver stole through her at his warm stare. Craig’s handsome looks gave her goosebumps. Every morning she said a prayer of thanks to be in a relationship with the millionaire. It wasn’t his money, rather his gruff, but loving way. Though he’d never admit it, he needed her.  

“It gets bone-chilling cold in Pine Grove.”

“Don’t you have heat?”

“The house is old. I heat it with a wood stove and fireplaces in every room.”

“Really? That’s inefficient.”

“I know. But I love the house. I hope you will, too.”

He’d avoided going home with her for months. Craig Banley was used to luxury and an old farmhouse in Pine Grove wouldn’t provide the kind of lifestyle he enjoyed. But it offered the cozy comfort of a fire, the sights and sounds of nature, and Laura’s companionship.

“Why don’t we have Christmas here?” He sliced a piece of brie.

“Because Christmas is a magical time in Pine Grove. Many things you’ve never seen or done.”

“Yeah, like freezing my privates off.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am. I hate being cold. And heating by fireplace doesn’t cut it.”

Anger stirred in her breast. “I’m going to Pine Grove for Christmas. You’re welcome to join me.” Her tone as frosty as an icicle.

“I’ll see you in the New Year, then.” His expression grew stony.

Laura rose to her feet and flounced out of the room. Always has to have his own way. Stubborn. Refuses to change. She threw her clothes in her weekend bag and zipped it up.

“I’ll catch the noon bus.”

“George’ll drive you.”

“I’ll take the subway. Goodbye.”

“But, Laura…”

She slammed the door in his face.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "FUSSY" ANOTHER EPISODE OF "MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK."

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "fussy." I have another episode of my urban fantasy, "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Okay, so I screwed up. It’s only a black eye. You should see the other guy. They called the Golds. Jesus Christ, both of them came to school.

“Are you hurt? The nurse said you seem to be okay.” Mrs. G fussed about.

“I’m fine.” I pushed her hand away.

“What the Hell, Jamie. What happened?” Mr. G. always got to the point.

“Nothing. I didn’t like what Robert said. So I punched him.”

That’s me being honest and direct. No good will come of it. The principal gave me a glassy stare, chilled me to my bones. He never liked me or other kids like me, with no homes, or problem parents. I just gave him a great excuse to transfer my ass outta her to some school two hours away. Or send me to some cheap-ass boarding school with convicts. I stared back at him, looking as tough as I could muster with a bloody nose and a black eye.

I would be surprised if the Golds shipped me out for this. If they only knew. Mr. Carter, the gym teacher, poked his head in.

“I saw the whole thing.”

“And what did this boy, Robert say? Did you hear, Mr. Carter?” Ole tight-ass Principal Goodwell asked.

He nodded. I cringed. I didn’t want anyone to know. “He said something like Jamie wasn’t fussy, moving in with a couple of Jews. Pardon me. I’m just quoting as best as I remember.”

The silence got so heavy you could have sliced it with a knife. Principal Dumb-Ass stood up.

“I see. Well, I think we can excuse this this time. Just don’t let it happen again, Jamie. I expect you back in school tomorrow. On time and prepared. That’s all.”

The Golds and I stood up. They shook hands with Dumb-ass and headed for the door. Outside, Mr. G. faced me and stuck out his hand.

“Thanks, Jamie. That was a brave thing to do.”

“Yeah? Well nobody rags on my friends.”

Mrs. G. hugged me. I felt my face heat up. Geez, why did she have to keep doing that? I knew how she felt.

“I made brisket last night. Let’s go home and have dinner.”

“Dinner? One of my favorite words.” I tried to smile at her, but my swollen lip hurt.  

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "ORANGE" - ANOTHER EPISODE OF MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "orange." We have another episode of "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by!

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Lunchtime in the cafeteria.

“I don’t see you at breakfast anymore.” Sarah, one of the cafeteria workers, said.

“I eat at home now.”

Wow. That word. “Home.” Slipped from my mouth like I’d been saying it all my life. No need to correct it, though. Everyone didn’t have to know I was living at the Golds.

“Here. I’ve been saving this for you. I know you like them.” She slipped an orange on my lunch tray.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I put it in my pocket. Always good to have something when I was in the park. Never know when you can count on the hot dog guy to be there.

I took my seat in math class. The teacher called me up to her desk.

“Principal wants to see you. Now.” She opened her book and stood up in front of the class.

Sweat started under my arms and on my upper lip. I slipped quietly into the hall. This couldn’t be good. Mr. Goodwell and I didn’t get along. Goodwell. Evilwell was more like it. He hated kids like me. The feeling was mutual. He was a snob. Wanted me to call him “Dr. Goodwell,” just because he had some fuckin’ degree. I never did.

When I got close to the office, I saw Mr. Gold standing by the secretary’s desk. Oh, fuckin’ Hell! This just got a whole lot worse. No way could this be good. Should I go in or take off? I didn’t have any money saved or a plan of escape worked out yet. The timing was bad. Very bad.

Too late! He turned, spied me, and came to the door.

“Oh, good, Jamie. Here. I’m on my lunch break. Wanted you to have this right away.”

He shoved something in my hand. It was a cell phone. Fuck! A cell phone? Me?

“Yeah. This way we can contact you and you us if there’s an emergency or something. My number and my wife’s are already saved. Just go to contacts. Do you know how to use a cell phone?”

“I’ll figure it out. Thanks.”

I rubbed my thumb over the black screen. I’d never had one before. Something stung the back of my eyes.

“Just remember, young man. All cell phones are to be switched off in school.”

It was that asshole Goodwell. Yeah, like I actually had somebody to call? Right. Uh, no.

“See you at dinner.” Mr. G. smiled at me and headed for the front door.

“Back to class.” Goodwell scowled at me.

I shoved the phone in my back pocket. A cell phone. Damn. Who knew?

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