Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Picky" - More from Too Late for Goodbye

 

Welcome! This week our word prompt is "picky". Our story, "Too Late for Goodbye" continues. We look in on Marty,  getting nervous. Scroll down to return to the great stories on Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by! 

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Pine Grove, New York

Unable to sleep, Marty arrived at his office at eight. He downed two cups of coffee in an attempt to focus. But work didn’t hold his attention. All he could think about was Jen Whitman and her adorable kids.

He pushed to his feet and paced in front of the office windows. What did he know about kids? Raising them? Talking to them? Outside of having been a kid once himself and refereeing for Little League, he was totally ignorant. I bet they're picky eaters.

He’d nail the baseball thing –his strength. But otherwise? Spending the week with them? Would he be expected to do that? Could he take time off and take them for hikes and to playgrounds? Did Jen want him around so much? His stomach tightened.

“Well, someone rolled out of bed early.” The voice of his big brother, Flint broke into his thoughts.

Marty stopped abruptly. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here. Remember? Boy,” Flint said shaking his head. “You got it bad.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Flint grabbed his brother’s arm. “Hey, buddy. Come on. What’s up?”

“Jen and her children are coming for a week. We’re going to a Jaguars’ game. But I don’t know what else to do. To plan. Am I supposed to be spending every minute with them? How do I deal with her kids? I’m not cut out to be a father.”

“Are you kidding?” Flint rested his butt on a corner of his desk. “You’ll make a great father. Hell, you’ve been telling me what to do forever.”

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GLASS" - MORE OF "TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE."

 

Welcome! This week we have the word "glass" as a word prompt to fashion our stories around. I have another excerpt of "Too Late for Goodbye." Scroll down to return to the excellent stories on Tuesday Tales. Comments are always welcome. Thanks for stopping by. 

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So busy with dinner, baths, and getting the kids to bed, she didn’t have time to think about her life until eight o’clock. She slipped off her watch, poured a glass of wine, sat on the sofa, and called Marty.

“Just wanted to tell you that Aunt Laura is giving us the apartment for the week. What else is there to do in Pine Grove, besides baseball?”

“That’s great. Uh, well, there are lots of things to do. We have a playground, and hiking trails.”

“That’s a start. The kids are super excited.”

“Me, too. I used to go regularly. Got to know a few of the players.”

“Ethan's so excited. Look, I know you gave me too low a price because I’m a widow and you like my kids. My husband left a special fund for me to start a business in case something happened to him. So I have the money to pay.”

A soft chuckle met her ears. “I’ve been avoiding my brother because I knew he’d kill me when he found out what I quoted you.”

“Okay. So, give me a new one. A real one this time.”

“I hope this works, Jen. I think it’s a revolutionary idea.”

Heat warmed her cheeks. “Thanks. You’re the first man to say that. I know Bill would support me, but the husbands of my friends all think it’s nuts.”

“Don’t let their BS get in the way. Go for it.”

“I will.”

Silence. A dozen phrases about how much she was looking forward to seeing him buzzed through her head, but she discarded them. Meeting guys was a whole new thing. Totally out of her element, she had no idea what to say.

Marty spoke up first. “Well, it’s late. Have a peaceful night. I’ll get that quote to you tomorrow. Take care. See you soon.”

“Goodnight.” She clicked off the phone and slapped her forehead. “What am I an idiot? Can’t make conversation anymore?” Frustrated, she opened her laptop and Googled “the art of dating after thirty.”

Picking up her wine glass, she clicked on the one titled, “How to talk to men you want to sleep with, but don’t want them to know.”  Sitting back, she took a sip and read.

 

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - MORE OF "TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE"

Howdy! 

Welcome to my Tuesday Tales page. This week we have the picture prompt to write to and the limit on words is 300. We have another excerpt from "Too Late for Goodbye." This week it's a bit between Marty and his brother, Flint. 

Don't forget to scroll down to return to the Tuesday Tales page and stop by and read all the other great stories. Comments are always welcome! Thanks for stopping by. 

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Marty and Flint finished up grilled steaks and beer.

“We can’t print it for less than two bucks apiece. And that’s rock bottom.” Flint downed the last of his beverage.

“She’ll be losing money. She wants to charge fifty cents.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Flint tossed his cup in the trash.

“I know and you know, but she won’t understand.” Marty finished his drink.

“It’s one thing to make no profit on a chick you’re hot for. But another to pay for her printing. Ain’t doing it, buddy.”

“You’re right. Okay. I’ll break the news.”

Before he picked up the phone, he checked the home game schedule for the Jefferson Jaguars online.

“Going to a game?”

“Thinking about it.”

“Doesn’t Jen Whitman have a son?”

“Yeah. So?”

Flint nodded. “Ah, I see. Getting to the mother through her son. Clever.”

“I am not.”

Flint patted his brother on the back. “Smart, Marty. Nothing wrong with being nice to her kid while you’re moving in on his mother.”

“Don’t you have something to do? Someplace to be?” Marty’s brow furrowed.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Flint pushed to his feet.

As soon as Flint left, Marty texted two April dates to Jen. Too shy to call, he hoped she’d pick the closer one. His phone rang.

“This is great! April eighth is during Spring Break! We can come for a week. It would be nice for the kids. They keep talking about Pine Grove.”

“Really? Great. I’ll get four tickets.”

“Thank you, Marty. That’s very sweet.”

“Don’t mention it.” He felt himself blushing.

“See you then.”

“Oh wait! Wait, Jen. I have a quote for your printing job.”

“Great. What is it?”

Marty cringed, said a short prayer, and crossed his fingers. “A dollar a piece.” Oh, God. Flint was going to kill him.

 

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Tuesday Tales - Word prompt "bug" - more of "Too Late for Goodbye."

 

Welcome! This week we have more from Jen's pov about Marty and moving on to the next phase of her life. Scroll down to return to the amazing work by other authors on Tuesday Tales. Comments are more than welcome, questions, too. Thanks for stopping by. 

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“Maybe if you sleep with him, we could get the paper printed for free?” said Carla, her best friend.

Jen laughed. “Good try. Uh, no.” She rinsed off a small pot.

“Come on. You could probably use a good roll in the hay by now. How long has it been?”

“Too long. Yeah. I know. Not happening.” Jen scrubbed the sink with Comet.

“Aw. Give an old married lady a thrill.”

“Yeah, right. Stop bugging me.” She dried her hands on a hand towel and turned off the light over the sink.

“One step at a time, I guess. At least you got us a printer. Still. Don’t count him out as a lover. You could use a man in your life.”

“I have two active kids keeping me too busy to think about men. I’m tired. Heading to bed. Goodnight, Carla. See you in the schoolyard tomorrow.”

“Goodnight. Think about what I said.”

She clicked off her phone and peering outside at the street. Lovers kissed in the shadows of a streetlamp. She sighed, remembering the days she and Bill used to find secluded places to steal kisses in college. A quiet, unassuming man, he’d been brilliant with numbers and made enough money on Wall Street to afford the down payment on this townhouse.

He’d been her first and only lover, skillful at sending her to the moon. Although Bill, like all humans, wasn’t perfect, he’d been perfect for her. Could anyone ever come close to giving her back what she’d had? She doubted it. Still, there was something to be said for kissing in the shadows on a blustery March evening.

 Dousing the living room lights, she rechecked the front door lock and marched up the stairs to her room. As she undressed, she wondered about Marty. Why wasn’t he married? Guy must be at least thirty-two or three. Maybe he’d been divorced? She didn’t know much about him. But watching him play ball with Ethan and laugh at Sophie’s knock-knock jokes, her heart had squeezed. No one could replace their father, but maybe they needed a man around, too?

There was something sexy about a man who liked kids. She slid between the sheets, pulled the down comforter up and switched off the bedside lamp. Maybe tonight Marty McKay would fill her dreams instead of Bill Whitman.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BLUE" - TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE

 

Welcome! This week we have another snippet from "Too Late for Goodbye", but it's from Jen's point-of-view. I hope you enjoy it and please leave a comment! Thank you for stopping by.  Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 

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Jen hated cleaning up after the kids were in bed, but tonight there had been no other choice. Marty helped with most of the dishes, but had to leave to catch the last bus. She turned on the hot water and scrubbed barbecue utensils and the few pots and pans she’d used for their meal.

A small smile came to her lips as she recalled his dark brown hair and serious eyes. Not terribly tall, not like her husband, but well built. When he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to toss a ball with Ethan, she had sucked in air. The garment hugged his chest, which appeared to be impressive. And strong forearms gave her a thrill. Strong arms on a man turned her on.

Two years without sex has rolled by almost unnoticed. Her life thrown through a meat grinder by her husband’s death had been about putting out fires. She still felt Bill’s presence every day and figured she always would.

Friends encouraged her to date, but Jen had no interest –or time or energy. Then Marty came along. Meeting him in Pine Grove took her off guard. She didn’t expect to meet anyone, just hang with The Dailey’s her cousins, and breathe in some fresh country air.

He’d been watching her from the refreshment table, but appeared reluctant to approach her for a dance. Shy men rang her chimes. When Laura Dailey took the children to get brownies, a man who resembled Marty poked him in the ribs and whispered in his ear. When the band struck up a new tune, he ambled over and asked her to dance.

It was a slow bluesy number, with the singer wailing about a broken heart. After the first refrain, she didn’t hear the words. Marty gripped her around the waist and took her hand in his. He smelled so damn good – a combination of a freshly laundered shirt and piney aftershave. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she felt his muscles work. Maybe he had been shy, but he knew how close to hold her without being aggressive.

One dance had become four by the time the children returned. Then he danced with Sophie, which simply melted Jen’s heart.

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