TUESDAY TALES - ICY

 

Howdy do! Welcome! Tuesday Tales is where several talented authors gather to write to a word prompt. The prompt this week is "Icy". I'm continuing with my story, "Two of Hearts." Find the marvelous stories of the other authors HERE. 

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After making arrangements for a private room for Stan and setting up help when he arrived home, Jen had no patience for Marcy's icy attitude. She ignored the young woman as much as possible. By the end of the day, her head ached. She needed to get home, have peace and quiet and create something. That’s when the idea of an Italian meal hit her. Her favorite was meatballs with rigatoni.

With all the fussing, Stan was worn out. He fell asleep at three. Jen instructed Marcy how to feed him his dinner, blamed her headache, and left. In the taxi, speeding downtown, she thought about dinner. She didn’t have any single friends anymore. The last thing she needed was a happy couple buzzing around. Besides, Stan would want his condition kept private. Then Terry popped into her head. He’d be the perfect solution. He was alone and probably missing a home-cooked meal, and he already knew about Stan.

She called him from the cab. Nervous when she recorded the message, she hoped she didn’t sound like an idiot. Whatever the outcome, she’d reached out to him, as a friend. Next stop was the grocery store. She needed supplies.

Once she schlepped everything in the house, she dropped her purse, greeted Willie, and headed for the kitchen.  She flipped on the radio to a classical music station and donned an apron. As she prepared the sauce, she noticed her headache had vanished. Chopping, stirring, mincing, and tasting had taken her mind off Stan. At first guilt swept through her, then she rationalized that she needed to keep her strength up to take care of him. Besides, she deserved a bit of down time.

She hummed along to the Mozart piece as she prepared the salad. Now, to whip up her home-made Caesar dressing! By five, everything had been prepared. She took a leisurely shower, dressed in a black velour T-shirt and pants and lay down on the sofa. Willie jumped up, snuggling next to her.

“This isn’t a date, Willie. I’m a happily married woman. I have invited a friend to dinner. That’s all. Just a friend.”

The pug raised his eyebrows.

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

TUESDAY TALES - WOOD

 

 Howdy! 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales where a group of authors write stories to word prompts. The prompt this week is "wood". We have another episode of "Two of Hearts" again this week. When you've finished reading my story, visit the other authors and read their stories. Find them HERE. 

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His brow furrowed. If she wanted to talk to him, then who could the voicemail be from? His touched the button.

“Hi, Terry? This is Jen. I’m having a shitty day at the hospital and thought I’d drown myself in a big Italian dinner. Cooking is sort of a hobby for me. I need something. I know you’re missing home cooking. So I thought maybe, if you didn’t have plans, you’d like to come over for dinner? I mean, I can’t eat all that food myself. Dinner’s at six. Just come over, if you can.”

He quirked an eyebrow. A dinner invitation from Jen? Of course, he didn’t have plans. The thought of a home-cooked Italian meal made his mouth water. He saved her number, then sent this text.

 

                 Thanks for the invite. Sounds great. See you at six.

 

As he walked home, he pondered her invitation. It made complete sense, she was alone, he was alone –why shouldn’t they eat together? No reason, none. He wondered why she hadn’t invited a girlfriend. Maybe she didn’t have any? From what she said, she had a busy life with Stan. Whatever her motives, he was grateful to be invited. On the way home, he stopped at the wine store. Bypassing the cheap Chiantis, he opted for a bottle of the good stuff. Fifty bucks. You can’t bring crap to a dinner at the private townhouse of a Nobel winner, can you?

When he entered the apartment earlier than usual, he took Queenie by surprise. She had been sound asleep on the sofa and barked at the intrusion.

“It’s me, girl.”

He had an hour to kill, so he showered, put on his best jeans and a T-shirt and shrugged a plaid flannel shirt over it to protect against the early May chill. He harnessed the pug and they hit the elevator.   

When he returned, he stopped to comb his hair. No aftershave. That was for Clare. This wasn’t a date, just two friends getting together for dinner. Two lonely friends, sharing a meal –that’s all it was and that didn’t rate aftershave. He picked up the small shopping bag with the wrapped bottle of wine, fed the dog and headed for the front door.

A little tension gathered in him as he approached the big wooden door of the elegant townhouse. He hoped Jen didn’t have anything more in mind than a nice dinner and chitchat. This was his first dinner alone with a woman that wasn’t a business dinner since he married Clare. He figured a little nervousness would be appropriate. He rang the bell.

That's all. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "HAND"

Hello, welcome to Tuesday Tales where authors write stories to word prompts. The word prompt this week is "hand". My excerpt is from "Two of Hearts". When you've finished reading my story, please hop on over to the other authors works. You'll find them HERE  

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Terry walked in a different direction so he wouldn’t run into Jen. The last thing he needed was to be explaining why he couldn’t reach his wife last night or the night before. A simple text telling him she was still alive kept him from worrying. But his plans to fly to L.A. that weekend turned to dust. 

His bad mood hovered over him like a rain cloud. He scowled at people on the train and hurried into his office with barely audible greetings for his staff. He opened his Starbucks coffee and leaned back in his chair. As confused as angry, he had no clue, what was happening. One minute he was having awesome Skype sex with his wife, and the next she wasn’t answering his calls.

Since she texted him, he decided that would have to be his mode of communication.

 

                 Can get cheap fare to you this weekend. Will take two days off to make it

                 four days. Does this work for you?

 

   She’d still be sleeping, so he’d have to wait for an answer.  Terry turned his attention to his work. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop checking his phone every few minutes. After two hours of starting several projects and not finishing any, he threw his papers on the desk and exhaled. Today would be a nonwork day. Disgusted with himself and his wife, he pushed to his feet and went to the window. The walls closed in on him, stealing his breath. No way could he wait out the day.

   Back at his desk, he looked up Mask of Gregorio, the movie he’d wanted to see with Clare. It was playing in his neighborhood theater. The next showing was in forty-five minutes. Perfect! He’d buy a sandwich, go to the movie, then go home afterward. He sent an email to his partner, raised his hand asd goodbye to his staff and left. 

   In the movies, he couldn’t check his phone every two seconds. Settled comfortably in the reclining seats, he unwrapped his sandwich and directed his attention to the screen. His shoulder muscles relaxed against the cushiony faux-leather. After the coming attractions, the suspenseful movie filled the screen, totally occupying his mind.  

   Two and a half hours away from work and worry relieved his mind. He smiled and rose from his seat. Turning on his phone, he was surprised to find both a text and a voicemail. His grin widened. Clare must be feeling guilty. He checked the text first.

 

                 Call me tonight. Eight my time.

 

His brow furrowed. If she wanted to talk to him, then who could the voicemail be from?

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. Don't forget to tune in next week to find out who called!

Tuesday Tales - Word Promp "Run"

 

Welcome! This week, we're writing to the word prompt "run". I have another excerpt from "Two of Hearts." Today, Terry is out walking Queenie and feeling bummed his wife, Clare, didn't answer his call when he runs into Jen and Willie.  When you finish, bop on over to the other authors and read their terrific stories. Find them HERE. 

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“What’s wrong?”

“He’s not Stan. Not the man I married.”

“What do you mean?”

She sniffled, dipping into her pocket for a tissue. “He’s, he’s feeble. Feeble is the only word to describe him.”

“Feeble? Hell, lady, the guy just woke up from a coma. Do you expect him to run a three minute mile?”

“ I expected him to talk, be forceful, criticize everything, declare he was going home and no one could stop him. To be masterful, strong, determined. But he wasn’t any of those things. He was meek. Stan Hogan, meek? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Give him a chance! A chance to bounce back.”

“Do you really think he will?”

“Hell, Jen, it’s the first day. You need to be patient.” He unsnapped Queenie so she could sniff Willie’s butt.  

“Patience has never been my strong suit.”

“Things change.”

“I know. And for better or for worse. I guess after five years of great, I could learn to deal with a bit of worse.”

“Nice talk! What would Stan do if the situation were reversed?”

She laughed. “Either he’d be crushed and fawning all over me, or he’d just walk out and hire someone to take care of me.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Maybe you could hire someone to help you when he comes home. He is coming home, isn’t he?”

“The doctor is optimistic.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Terry asked. 

She scrunched her face up. “I think I had a breakfast sandwich on the way to the hospital.”

“Hell. You can’t deal with this on an empty stomach.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat anything.”

“Wait here,” he said, handing her Queenie’s leash. He ran back to the apartment and grabbed the white bag on the credenza. Huffing, he slowed as he neared the woman and the dogs. Queenie barked and wagged her tail.

“One for me, and one for you,” he said, plucking two cream puffs out of the bag.

She shot him a quizzical look.

“Cream puffs. Yeah, not exactly healthy food, but guaranteed to make you feel better.”

She smiled. “If you say so.”

He took a small bite of his, to make it last. Yes, it would help with the fact that Clare hadn’t been home and hadn’t called back. He took another bite and let the superb cream roll around his tongue.

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