TUESDAY TALES - NOW

 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where authors write to a different word prompt each week.  This week the word prompt is "now".  This week we have another excerpt from the Kenington State story. Don't forget to visit all the authors. You'll find the link to them HERE.

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“Kitty, do you mind if we use your old room?” Callie asked her daughter.

“Nope.”

“Good. Come in, Charlotte. Sit down at the dressing table. I’ll be right back,” Callie said, disappearing down the hall.

Charlotte stared at all the paraphenalia on the table. There were pencils in shades of blue, violet, and green. Pots half full of mysterious creams were clustered in a group. Some of those sparkled, while others ran the gamut from pink to peach.

“What are all these things for? It looks like the beauty counter at the big stores in New York,” Charlotte said, daring to pick up a pot of cream-colored goo.

 “They’re to make you beautiful,” Kitty said, pulling a chair next to her friend and plopping down.

“Hah!” Charlotte laughed. “You’ll need a whole lot more than a few pots of goop and colored pencils to turn me into anything presentable.”

Kitty gave her friend’s arm a gentle squeeze. “That’s not true. You’ll be surprised.”

“I certainly will. The mirror doesn’t lie.”

Callie swooped into the room, her arms loaded with supplies.

“Oh yes it does! You’ll see. When we get through with you, your real beauty will come forward.”

“What real beauty?” Charlotte drew her brows together.

“You’ll see,” Callie said. “Kitty, phone Pam. We need an appointment,” Callie said, fingering Charlotte’s thick, mahogany brown hair. “We need this gorgeous mop tamed before the dance.”

“Right, Mom,” Kitty said, picking up her phone. “Pam? We have a hair emergency. When can you squeeze us in. No, not for me or Mom, but for my friend, Charlotte. What? Perfect. We’ll be there.”

Callie picked up the tweezers.

“No time for that, Mom. Pam is holding a slot for us if we can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go, now,” Callie said, dropping the tweezers on the dressing table.

“Pam? Hair emergency?” Charlotte pulled back her long hair with her hands.

“You have beautiful hair. But it needs to be shaped. You need a good haircut by a professional. We have a wonderful hairdresser who does our hair. She’s very talented.”

“Cut my hair?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows. 

“No, no. She’s not going to cut it all off. She’s’ going to shape it into a stunning hairdo. You’ll see. Trust us,” Callie said in a gentle tone.

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

Tuesday Tales - Pearl

 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This week we're writing to the word prompt "pearl." When you fibish my excerpt, hop on over to the stories by the other authors. Find them HERE. 

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Summoned to the president’s office, Charlotte waited outside. The big wooden doors burst open and Callie Caldwell bounced  out. 

“Charlotte! How nice to see you. Kitty has put me in charge of getting you ready for the dance.”  

“I appreciate you taking the time to help me, Mrs. Caldwell.” Charlotte stood.

“Please call me Callie. It’s going to be fun.” Callie clutched her chin as she circled the young woman. “Hmm. Seems a complete makeover is needed.”

Kitty Caldwell joined them. “Exactly, Mom.”

“Is this gonna hurt?” Charlotte asked, her brows knitted.

“Just a little. Around the eyebrows,” Callie said, staring at the girl.

“Ugh.”

“It’s necessary. If you want to be, uh, noticed, by the right men,” Kitty said.

“It’s part of looking your best,” Callie said.

“I know, I know. I’ll do whatever you say,” Charlotte frowned.

“Hmm. I think I know who you’re talking about. A slightly older guy?” Callie asked.

Charlotte felt her face flush. She nodded.

“Okay then. We definitely need pearls. You know older guys like pearls on women,” Callie said.

Kitty nodded.

“Older guys? Which older guys?” It was the deep voice of the president, Mac Caldwell.

“Never you mind,” Callie replied, placing a firm grip on Charlotte’s shoulders. “Come with me. We need to get started.” Callie steered Charlotte toward the door.

Mac laughed. “Women and their secrets.” He shook his head.

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT: YELLOW

 

and welcome! This is a small group of writers who write to a word prompt each week. This week the word prompt is "yellow." I have posted another excerpt from "Someone Like You", /When you've finished my story, read the excellent stories by the other authors. Find them HERE. 

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Charlotte went about sorting through her clothes, deciding what to take to her new home and what to throw away.

“Hmm. I’m going to need a dress for the dance,” she said to herself, rummaging through her closet. She came upon the dress she wore to her prom. It was old. Very old. The dress had been ivory, but now it had yellowed in places, making it look like something Cinderella wore before she became a princess.

“Ugh,” she said aloud. “I can’t wear this anywhere!” She threw it in the trash with such force she knocked the can over. “Piece of crap. I can’t wear anything like that. Professor Garrett is going to be there.” She sat down hard on her bed, fighting back tears. “I have nothing.”

Before she got into a full-fledged pity party, she got an idea.

“Kitty!” She picked up her phone and called Corey’s fiancee.

“Kitty, I need help. I don’t have anything to wear to the dance. It’s been years since I bought a fancy dress. I don’t even know where to begin, or where to go to find the right thing. Will you help me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I’ll help you. And we can ask my mom.”

“The President’s wife?”

“Yes. She’s my mother and she knows all about these things. She’d be great.”

“Oh thank you so much!”

“You’re going to be my sister-in-law. I’ll always help you in any way I can,” Kitty said.

“You’re the best!”

Charlotte hung up the phone. She lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes. Visions of exquisite gowns passed before her eyes. Yes, she’d enlist the help of anyone she could to help her be the belle of the ball. And get noticed by Professor Garrett.

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by. Please leave a comment. 

TUESDAY TALES - "PEOPLE"

 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. We have a short excerpt today from "Someone Like You", written to the word prompt "People." I hope you enjoy it and leave a comment. Then go on over to read the marvelous stories from the other authors. Find them HERE. 

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Charlotte managed not to get completely soaked running from the car to her father’s house. Her phone rang. It was her brother.

“Have you talked to dad recently?” he asked.

“You mean about selling the house and moving to Florida, yep.” She sank down in a comfy chair in the living room and watched the rain through the picture window.

“He’s crazy,” Corey said.

“No, he’s not. It works for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve already found a place to live. A sublet, actually. And I think I’ve found a workshop, too.”

“You have? Where?”

Charlotte filled him in on the sublet situation, but hesitated when it came to the details for her workshop.

“Derek is going to let you have that space? How much?” Corey asked.

“Well…” she hesitated.

“What?”

“Four hundred a month,” she said, pushing up from the chair.  

“Can you afford that?” he asked.

“Yeah. I have some orders already for that table.”

“Derek doesn’t have the final say, does he?”

“Maybe not. But he said four hundred, People have to honor their word.”

“The way he feels about you, he might give it to you for free,” Corey said, laughing.

“Funny you should say that,,,” she began.

                                                                                                                          

 That'a all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "VIOLENT"

    

Welcome! It's another Tuesday! This week the talented authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt "violent." I have another excerpt from "Someone Like You."  When you've finished reading my post, be sure to sample the posts of the amazing Tuesday Tales authors. You can find them HERE. 

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“Do you have to sell the house?” Charlie asked her father at breakfast.

“Yep. Need the money. But you’ve found a new place. You’ve got steady work. What’s the problem?”

“I need a workshop. My woodworking business is growing. The basement here has been perfect,” she said, adding milk to her coffee and refreshing her father’s cup.

“Thanks. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that. There must be a place – wait a minute! Isn’t there a back room for rent at the hardware store?” He took a muffin from the plate in the center of the table.

“Oh yes! That’s right. Derek told me about that a while ago. I wonder if it’s still available?”

“I bet it is. Can’t cost much. It was kinda small, if I recollect.”

“I’ll check it out.”

A loud crack of thunder made her jump. She peeked out the window. Angry clouds roiled around. A storm was coming. 

"I'd better go before the storm hits," she said, leaving the table. 

Charlie climbed into her car and sped to the hardware store.

When he heard the bell over the door, Derek looked up. He stopped stacking cans of varnish and greeted her.

“Well, howdy, Charlie. Been a long time. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, Derek. You?”

“Can’t complain. What can I do for you?” He wiped his hands on his work apron.

“I was wondering if you still have that small room in the back for rent?”

“Yep. Can’t seem to find anyone who can use such a small space.”

“It’s big enough for a workshop, though, right?”

“A one-person workshop. Yep.I think you. You thinkin’ about renting it?”

“Actually I was. How much is it?” She sauntered over to the paint color charts and flipped through some paint chips.

“For most people, four hundred. But for you, nothing. Just benefits.” He leered at her.

“Benefits?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I can give it to you for free, if you, uh, cooperate,” he said, drawing closer.

The storm broke. A sharp crack of thunder and a streak of lightning drew her attention. Rain pelted the roof violently. 

Derek ran his forefinger down her cheek. "Don't go out in the storm. We can start the benefits now," he said. 

She swallowed. 

That's all for today. Thanks for stopping by.  

 

TUESDAY TALES - QUAINT

 

Welcome to the blog where writers write to a word prompt. This week the word prompt is "quaint". I have another excerpt from my work-in-progress titled, "Someone Like You." When you finished, hop on over to read the works by the other authors. You'll find them HERE. 

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Tom opened the quaint little cookie tin, and sat it in the middle of the kitchen table. They took their usual seats at the table.

“Well,” Tom said, fiddling with his spoon trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I’m moving out, Pop,” Charlie blurted out.

He looked up, his eyes wide. “You what?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s time.”

Tom laughed. “I was going to say the same thing to you!”

“What?” Charlie stared. “What do you mean?”

“I’m selling the house and moving to Florida. I’m going to live with my sister. Helene needs help and can’t afford much. So I’m going to sell and move in with her. Doctor told me I have to stop working. Ticker trouble.” Tom avoided Charlie’s stare.

“When did all this happen?” She asked.

“Today.”

“Today? Really?”

“The doctor has been telling me to cut back. To lose weight, eat healthy, and stuff.”

“I know that.”

“He said the winter here isn’t good for me. I should move to a warmer climate.”

“That’s probably true for three-fourths of the population here,” she murmured.

“Then I spoke to Helene today. She didn’t want to call me, but she’s at the end of her rope. She can’t walk too good. She doesn’t have the money to hire help. I figured my moving down there would be good for both of us.”

“You’re going to sell the house?” Charlie asked.

“Yep. It’s paid up. I need the cash. It’s about time you lived on your own, anyway.”

Charlie burst out laughing. “That’s exactly what I was going to tell you. I’ve been saving up. I found a sublet. I'll find a new place in the fall.”

Tom wiped the sweat off his forehead. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “That’s good news.”

“Are you sure you can get along with Helene?” Charlie asked.

“She’s not quite so high and mighty now she needs help,” he said with a chuckle. “I ain’t leavin’ you with nothin’. I savin' a bit from what you made and put it in a safe place.It’s grown. So you’ll have a nestegg to get you started.”

Charlie’s eyes watered. “You did that?”

“I knew you’d need your own money someday,” he said, struggling to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“Oh, Pop!” Charlie burst into tears and leaped up from the table.

When her father stood, she threw herself into his arms.

 

That's all for today. Thanks for stopping by. 

 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BROWN"

Welcome! This week our authors are writing to the word prompt "brown." I have another episode from 

"Someone Like You.". When you're finished stop by and read the other authors' stories. You'll find them 

HERE.  

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 “It’s settled then, Martha,” Tom Anderson said, then hung up the phone. He rubbed his stubbly chin as 

he thought about how he’d break it to his daughter. He put up another pot of coffee, then paced while 

the machine brewed.

Charlotte had always been his little girl, though he treated her more like a son than a daughter. When Corey had gone off to college and Tom’s wife passed away, Charlotte and Tom had only each other. They had grown close.

Only now with the changes coming down the pike did he realize how he’d protected her, kept her from striking out on her own. He’d always been there to take care of her and she’d always been there to take care of him.

Had he stood in her way of finding a young man and getting married? Maybe. He drew his eyebrows together as guilt gnawed at him. She’d seemed content to follow along, learn carpentry, and spend her time painting walls and working with wood. He had to admit she had a talent for creating perfect furniture. Clean lines, perfect finishes, unique designs gave her work an audience of wealthy buyers.

Over the years, Tom had kept back some of the money she’d earned. It was easy to do as she left the bookkeeping up to him. He’d squirreled it away a safe investment and over the years it had grown to quite a nest egg.

He smiled for a moment at his wisdom. Now he could sell the house, keep the proceeds to live on for himself, and turn over the money he’d saved for her without feeling guilty. The time had come for them to go their separate ways. His eyes wetted at the thought of leaving Charlotte. He had no choice.

When he heard her car door slam, he steeled himself for the conversation he had to have. The coffeemaker wheezed. He poured himself a cup, then went to the cupboard and took out a bottle of rum. He added a liberal splash to the dark brown liquid in his mug, then faced the door.

Charlotte entered.

“Hi, Pop,” she said, dropping her car keys in a bowl in the kitchen. “Coffee fresh?”

“Yep,” he said, taking a mug down from the cabinet, and reaching for the sugar bowl.

“No sugar,” she said.

“Oh, yeah. Forgot.” He filled the mug and handed it to her. “Sit down, Charlie. We gotta talk.”

She chuckled. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you.”

That's it for this week. Thanks for stopping by.