TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BLACK"

Welcome! This week we have another episode of  "Too Late for Goodbye," written tot he word prompt "black. When you're finished, don't forget to stop by the other authors blogs and read their fabulous stories. You'll find them HERE. 

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“I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

“He left me money to do something. Start something. A business. And this is what I want to do. I want to give people a reason to get out of bed in the morning.” 

 He raised her hand to his lips. “Brilliant. Noble. Wonderful. Original. How can I help?” 

“Give me a rock bottom price on the printing.” 

“Can I take the mock-up with me? I have to show it to Flint, my brother and partner. He’ll know what it’ll cost to print. I do the sales, accounting, and other stuff. I promise to treat it like fine china.” 

“Sure sure. Take it. Then get back to me.” 

“First some particulars,” he said, opening his briefcase and drawing out an Ipad. He fired it up. “Let’s get the details down. Are you printing this in black-and-white or color?” 

 When he finished taking down the information on the project, he checked his watch. Time to leave. He sighed.

Jen put four brownies on a plate, then covered them with plastic wrap. “I have to pick up the kids from school. Why don’t you stay and have an early dinner with us.” “What?” 

“Come on. The kids know you. I bet Ethan would love to throw a ball with you, and Sophie has new knock-knock jokes.” 

“I have to catch a bus.” 

“We’ll have an early dinner. I can heat up some stew from the freezer.” 

 Damn he wanted to stay. What would Flint say? Fuck Flint. “Okay. I’d love to. If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“No trouble at all. Come on, let’s go.”

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

TUESDAY TALES - FINISH

 

Hello, and welcome! 

This week our word prompt is "finish". I swore to myself that I would keep the excerpt from "Too Late for Goodbye" clean, heh heh. So here it is. Marty learns more important info about Jenny this week. I hope you enjoy it. When you're done, hop on over to read the fabulous pieces by the other Tuesday Tales authors HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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“This is just a mock-up done by the art director. We haven’t gotten all the articles in yet.”

“May I?” he asked reaching for the front page.

She nodded.

Marty turned the pages carefully. He had only been polite before when he said it was brilliant. Truth was he thought it was a little wacky. Kind of like her, but in a good way. As he read the headlines each one grabbed his attention, made him want to read the story. Maybe she had something? Sure, it was a little cuckoo, but who wouldn’t prefer good news with their morning coffee?

 When he finished, he met her gaze. He could see anxiety in her eyes, the desire for his approval. He spoke. “To be honest, at first I thought the idea was a little, well, strange? Odd, maybe. But after reading the headlines, it sucked me in. I’d definitely read this. Much better way to start my day than reading about crooked politicians and mass murderers, right?”

“Exactly what I thought.”

Her face lit up like someone trained a theatre spotlight on it.

“I mean, some days it’s hard enough to get out of bed. Then to face the morning paper?” Tiny lines next to her mouth deepened. “You start your day ticked off, angry at the world. Not a good thing.”

“What would you know about angry? You’re the most cheerful person I know.” He finished his soup.

“Me? You have no idea. I know deep depression from the inside out.”

“How? A divorce? What idiot guy would split from you?”

Her face clouded over. Her eyes wetted and her hands fiddled with the trim on her apron. “You have no idea how low I’ve been.”

He took her hand in his. “Why?”

“My husband died in a car crash. Two years ago. I know what I’m talking about. It took me three months before I could get out of bed.”

There had been times in his life when Marty had felt like an idiot. But this time he knew he was an idiot –the biggest, dumbest kind. Of course, no man in his right mind would leave this lovely women unless taken by the Grim Reaper. How could he be so blind and stupid?

That's it. See you next week! 

TUESDAY TALES: WORD PROMPT "MIRROR" - "TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE"

 

Howdy Doodles! It's time for another episode of  "Too Late for Goodbye." Today's word prompt is "mirror." When you're done, hop on over to the other authors fabulous posts. Get there from HERE. 

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“Be right back.”  She left the room again.

Jen called in from another room, chattering away. He couldn’t make out most of what she said, so he took the minute to check his reflection in a small wall mirror, then combed his hair back with his fingers.

“Here it is. Here. Look at this.” She came in carrying a huge folder and laid it on the table. “It’s a newspaper.”

“A newspaper?” He raised his eyebrows. “You want me to print a newspaper?”

“Not just any newspaper. It’s only for good news. See?  The masthead? It’s says ‘Good News’.”

“Did you write this?”

“Oh no. I wrote the editor’s column. My friends, parents at the kids’ school, wrote the rest. It’s really good. We gathered stories from all over. Only happy stories. Stories with good endings. Nothing negative.”

“A good news newspaper? Brilliant.” He broke a piece of toast in half.

She shot him a smile that would melt a glacier. He felt heat all the way to his toes.

“A lot of people thought it was dumb. But I did it anyway.” She put a second piece on each plate.

“I don’t think it’s dumb at all.” He picked up the toast.

“Good. Then you can help me. I can pay. I have money.”

‘Okay. Let’s talk specifics.”

She plopped down on a chair. “I’m glad you’re taking me seriously. Not everyone does.”

Marty finished chewing a piece of toast. “Who said a beautiful woman can’t have brains, too?”

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

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

 

Welcome!! It's time for Tuesday Tales and more of "Too Late for Goodbye," Marty's story. This week is picture prompt week. I've chosen a picture of Cedar Lake, the lake in the town where Marty met Jenny and her kids. We are restricted to only 300 words during picture prompt week. 

When you've finished my story, hop on over to the great Tuesday Tales authors and see what they have to offer. Find them HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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She plunked down a big envelope on the sideboard and approached the stove. “It’s mushroom and barley. I threw in some leftover meat, too. I hope you’re not vegetarian.” She ladled out a big bowl and placed it in front of him.

“I’m not. This looks great,” he said.

She popped some bread into the toaster.

“I’ll be right back.”  She left the room again.

The steaming bowl smelled heavenly. He filled his spoon, then blew on it. The first taste was amazing. Jen returned, buttered the toast, put it on a plate, then filled her own bowl.

“Mushroom and barley is my favorite,” Marty said, crossing his fingers under the table.

“Is it? Mine, too,” she replied. “You know my kids can’t stop talking about Pine Grove.”

“Oh, really?” Marty raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Ethan goes on and on about Cedar Lake. Every week he doubles the amount of fish he’s going to catch when we visit next time. And Sophie…” Jen stopped and blushed.

“What did Sophie like most?” He took another spoonful of soup.

Jen filled hers and blew on it, avoiding his gaze.

“Come on. The suspense is killing me.” Marty put down his spoon.  

“She liked dancing with you best.”  Jen blushed.

“Oh, come on!” He laughed. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Not according to Sophie. She said she’s going to marry you when she grows up.” Jen’s face turned a deeper shade of red.

He shot her a crooked smile. “That’s the nicest proposal I’ve ever had.” He touched her hand briefly.  

She met his gaze. “It is?”

“Actually, it’s the only proposal I’ve ever had. But I’ll take it. She’s a heartbreaker, a little charmer, for sure.”

Jen shot him a warm smile. “I agree.”

“Takes after her mother.”

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That's all. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "SOFT"

 Welcome to Tuesday Tales where authors write stories to word prompts. This week the word prompt is soft. Welcome back to the continuing story of Marty McKay in the book "Too Late for Goodbye." Click HERE to go to the other authors blogs and read their fabulous stories!

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The door swung open. Jenny stood there, wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt. Her silky blonde locks rested around her shoulders. As she pressed her phone to her ear, she gestured to him.

“Yes, yes, Roberta. I know. But I need your column by tomorrow morning, latest. The printer is here now. Yes. We’re going to go over the layout. No. I can handle it. You just get your butt in the chair and write that column!”

Clicking her phone off, she faced him. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in.” She took his arm and led him inside. Eyeing him, she remarked, “What happened? Close encounter with a mud puddle?”

He laughed. “Maybe I’d better take my shoes off.” He thanked God he was wearing new socks with no holes in them.

“Sure. We never wear shoes in the house anyway.”

He shucked his shoes and glanced down. She had slender, delicate feet with toenails painted a lovely pink. A shiver shot through him.

“Come into the kitchen. I’m making soup.” She took his arm and led him toward the back of the cozy, charming townhouse.

Something smelled damn good. Beautiful, funny, and she could cook. The trifecta. No, better yet, the Mega Millions Lottery of women. He tramped along beside her.

“Sorry if I’m late.”

She checked her watch. “Nope. Right on time. Do you like soup?”

“I do. But I thought maybe I could take you out to lunch.”

“Why? We can have soup and talk about the paper.” She shot him a soft smile.  

Marty tried to hide his disappointment. Why? Because he didn’t give a damn about her printing project, he just wanted to sit and gaze at her over a glass of wine.

“Okay. What’s the project.”

“Sit down. Be right back.”

Did he stare at her cute butt as she left the room? Damn right he did.

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

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

 

        Welcome! This week we have another snippet from "Too Late for Goodbye."   The word prompt is "wicked".        

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Soon Marty would be living on his own –for the first time. He swallowed. Watching his brother drive away, he wondered how it would be to have total privacy. Would he miss Flint or be happy to be alone? He checked his phone, then opened his pocket calendar. The bus ground to a halt before the George Washington Bridge. An accident? He hadn’t expected a traffic jam. Being a planner, he’d built in plenty of time for his appointment with Jenny.

A twinge of guilt shot through him. He’d been wicked, lied to Flint. He only had one appointment to discuss printing –with that luscious blonde he’d met at the Harvest dance. If Flint knew, Marty would never hear the end of it.

But Jenny had taken his card and called for an estimate for their printing services. It wasn’t from the ad, but hell, it was a business meeting. His nerves kicked up as he checked his watch again. Their meeting was scheduled for eleven thirty. He hoped to take her to lunch after. Hell, if she’d have dinner with him, too, he’d give her the printing services at cost. But he couldn’t tell Flint.

Jenny had two children, a boy and a girl. He’d always shied away from dating single women with kids because he didn’t want the responsibility. But when he saw Jenny laughing and dancing and singing with hers, his heart melted.

He stared out the window at the traffic inching along. It was a gray, windy day in March. Dirty old buildings rose up, blocking his view. Verging on being late, he hailed a taxi that crawled through a snarl of cars and trucks. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the hands of the clock moved faster than he did.

The yellow cab stopped in front of a small, two-story building, sandwiched between an older ten-story apartment house and a well-kept, proud, four-story townhouse. He checked the address, paid the driver, and stepped out of the vehicle, right into a patch of mud.

Sliding on the slippery stuff, he fell on his butt on the street.

“Hey, Mister! You okay?” The cabbie turned in his seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Fine,” Marty muttered. He prayed Jenny hadn’t been looking out her window. What a clumsy fool! As the cab pulled away, he brushed himself off. 

Now there was mud drying on the sides. What about mud on his butt? Great. And he couldn’t even see how much dirt was on the back of his pants. Wonderful impression he’d make. Like some rube from the sticks. And he’d probably wrecked his new suit, too. Stupid dumbass move. With a sigh, Marty approached the front stoop. He pressed the buzzer.

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That's it for this week. Stop by the other Tuesday Tales talented authors. You'll find them HERE.  Thanks for stopping by.

 

PICTURE PROMPT - NEW STORY! TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE

 

Welcome! Sorry about leaving you hanging on The Kicker's Story last week, but it was necessary as the book is almost finished. So we start a new story today, "Too Late for Goodbye." 

It's picture prompt week. Stories are limited to 300 words. The picture I picked illustrates how close brothers Flint and Marty McKay are. They have always had each other's backs -- and engaged in a bit of rivalry growing up, too. You'll meet them now. Thanks for stopping by. (Scroll down for the link to the other Tuesday Tales stories.)

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Pine Grove

“Whoa! Who died?” 

“What?” Standing in front of the mirror, Marty McKay straightened his tie and glanced at his brother, Flint.

 “I mean, you’re wearing a suit, shirt, and tie. Going to a funeral?”

“Very funny.” Marty combed his short, brown hair over and over until it was perfect.

“I thought so.” Flint chuckled. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“I’m going to New York’s all.” He picked up his wallet and shoved it in his back pocket.

“Why?”

“I’m meeting a couple of clients.” Marty sensed heat in his cheeks at the lie.

“Clients? In the Big Apple?”

“Yes.” He fastened a watch on his wrist and faced his brother. “Remember the ad I put in the paper there? We got a couple of phone calls. I’m going in to see what the projects are.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember. Good idea.”  

“It’s business, so get off my back.”

Flint narrowed his eyes and stared at his brother. “One of ‘em wouldn’t be a pretty girl, by the name of Jenny, would it?”

Marty turned away so his brother wouldn’t see his blush. “Maybe.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m late. Give me a ride to the bus?”

“Sure.”

The two young men rode in silence. Marty stared at the new spring green leaves emerging on the trees. The caw of a crow caught his ear.

“I mean, if you’re going to see her, it’s okay with me.”  Flint turned right.

“I don’t need your approval.” Marty continued to stare out the window.

“I know. Just sayin’.”  

“I’m moving over to the Barrett house this weekend.”

Flint slowed for a stop sign. “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

“I’m not going to make a career out of being a third wheel. You’re married now, Flint. Everything is different.”

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Click HERE to go to the wonderful Tuesday Tales stories!