TUESDAY TALES: WORD PROMPT: RUNNING

 

Welcome! This week we have another episode of the Kicker's story. The word prompt is "running". Don't forget to visit all the blogs with wonderful stories. Find them HERE.  Thanks for visiting! 

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In a twin bed in a small bedroom in a tiny house on Stepping Stone Lane, Courtney Adams, a lazy blonde, yawned and stretched. Sharing her childhood room with her younger sister, Merrily, had been like a visit to “The Twilight Zone.” Used to a spacious, elegantly furnished Manhattan apartment on the tony Upper West Side, and a king-sized bed, she could hard breath in the cramped space. Why had her mother kept every single thing from her childhood and stuffed every shelf, every drawer full of old, dusty, worthless junk?  

 “Breakfast is ready,” a slim, short-haired brunette said as she leaned against the door frame.

“How the hell can you be so cheerful, Merrily? After a night in this excuse for a bed, I ache all over.”

“Yeah, I know. Mom needs to fix this place up.”

“Burn it down, more likely.” Courtney pushed to her feet.

“Come on, she’s doing okay keeping this place. Dad’s not paying her squat.”

“Yeah, well that’s not news, is it? Bastard. I send her money when I can.”

“Nice. Wish I could. I’m stuffed into a small place with roommates as it is.”

“Yeah, ice skating coaches don’t make a helluva lot, do they?”

“Not unless they’re coaching Olympic skaters. Private school charges a fortune and pays peanuts. But I may have a new job soon. A high profile one.” Merrily flashed a mischievous grin at her sister.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“Eat first.”

Courtney grabbed a terrycloth robe hanging on the back of her door and covered her skimpy tank and tap pants before heading for the stairs. The smell of fresh coffee met her nose. She smiled. Some good things remained in this shabby old place.  A short woman carrying an extra fifteen pounds spoke up.

"It's about time, sleepyhead. French toast?" She raised kind eyes to her beautiful daughter.

"With cinnamon?"

"Of course. Come. Sit." Carol Adams placed a china plate on the table in front of an empty chair.

"Coffee?" Merrily poised a pot over an empty mug.

"Definitely. You guys wanna move to the City? I could use two in help."

Carol's lips compressed into a firm line. "Don't press your luck, Missy."

Courtney slung her arm around her mother's shoulders and gave a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"And me?" Merrily cocked an eyebrow.

"You, too Squirt. You guys are great. And no one cooks like you do, Mom." Hunger gnawed at Courtney's gut. Her mother placed three pieces of the toast on her daughter's plate. Merrily thrust her butt into her chair and the women chowed down. Courtney helped herself to a good portion of the real maple syrup, feeling a pang of guilt at  using so much of the costly confection. It ran over the toast, leaving it's sweet loveliness on every inch it touched.