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

 

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "hurry". While we don't want to hurry romance, my characters might be hurrying to the bedroom in another episode of  "Too Late for Goodbye". Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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 Jen wore a light jacket and sat in the double rocker on the porch. She held a glass of wine.

“I poured one for you. It’s in the kitchen. Hurry up.”

He retrieved his glass and joined her, slipping his arm over the back of the rocker.

“So my kids almost drowned today and you practically went down with the ship?”

He caught the twinkle in her eye. “Yep. It was quite a day.”

She laughed. “You’re pretty cool about it.”

“I wasn’t,” he rubbed his chin. “Nope. I was pretty pissed when Ethan pulled out the plug. And when the boat started taking on water, I almost panicked. Sophie was screaming. Jesus.”

She patted his knee. “But you didn’t panic, did you?”

“I kept my head, got the kids out of the boat safely.”

“And you?”

“Well, okay. So I was up to my knees in water. I managed to escape with nothing more than wet shoes and pants.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” She put her hand on his thigh.

“Me? What did I do, except risk the lives of your children?”

“They were wearing life vests. No, you handled it like a father, like a parent. I’m impressed.”

He stared at the ground, put his hand over hers, and smiled. “They’re great kids. But you already know that.”

“You’re right. On both counts.”

His smiled faded and he faced her. “I don’t know how you do it. All by yourself. Everyday. Taking complete responsibility. You’re the one who’s amazing.”

 Jen yawned and stretched her arms. “Why don’t you set the alarm for six?”

“What?”

“If I get up at six, I can leave your bed before the kids wake up.”

He leaned down to kiss her. “You got it. Six it is.”

Hand-in-hand they tiptoed up the stairs, into Marty’s room, and closed the door.

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

 

Welcome! This week is picture prompt week. And we are limited to only 300 words. We have another episode of "Too Late for Goodbye", too. Looks like Marty's idea for a fishing trip get sunk fast! Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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   Marty picked up one oarlock and shoved it in the hole on the side, then slid the oar in. “There we go. One oar ready.”

   “Marty? What’s this?” Ethan plucked a piece of wood from a hole in the floor of the boat. Water gushed across the floor.

   “What the hell? Damn! Where’d you get that?”

   “It was stuck in the floor.”

   “It plugged up that hole!”

   Sophie started to cry.

   “We’re gonna drown!” Ethan yelled.

   Marty grabbed the piece of wood, but it was wet now and swollen, so it no longer fit in the hole. Every swear word he knew breezed through his head. Clamping his lips together, he tried to shove the piece back in the hole, but no dice.

   “Looks like our boat ride is over. Come on. Stand up.” Sophie obeyed. Marty took her by the waist and vaulted her over the side, settling her safely on her two feet on the dock. Ethan was next. The shoes of each child were soaked and Marty’s, too. He swore under his breath as he put the oar on the dock, then the second one. He ripped the oarlocks up and out and threw them next to the oars. Then it was his turn. Water was up to his calves.

   Sinking and tipping at the same time provided no leverage. He tossed the tackle on the dock and attempted to exit the rowboat. Under his weight, it sank faster.

   Sophie screamed.

   Ethan hollered, “Marty’s drowning!”

   Now Marty was knee deep in water. He placed his hands on the pier and pushed up, transferring his weight to the dock. Leaning forward, he teetered toward it and swung one leg up, then the other. Without his weight, the boat took on water more slowly.  He shook his head.

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

 

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "orange". We have another excerpt from "Too Late for Goodbye", a contemporary small town romance. Comments are the best!! Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and the fabulous stories there. Thanks for stopping by! 

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Flint patted his brother on the back. “Absolutely. You’ve covered for me upteen million times. Now it’s your turn. Take off. Have fun. Get laid.”

“Get laid? With her kids around?”

“You’ll figure it out. Brotherly love stops at the bedroom door.”

Marty laughed. He paid a few bills, checked their bank balance, and called Jen.

“I was wondering. What your plans are for spring break?”

“Plans?”

“Yeah. There’s lotsa stuff to do here in Pine Grove. And I’d like. Well, I’d kinda like to do stuff. I mean, take the kids to the park or playground.”

“Really? You want to hang with me and the kids?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

“I’m going to take the week off.”

“For us?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Marty. That’s so sweet.”

Sweet? Sexy, handsome, strong, brilliant – but sweet? He wanted to facepalm, but his phone was in the way.

“You really know how to hurt a guy.”

“Women love sweet men.”

“Do they? I thought they preferred handsome, rugged, brilliant, rich, and did I say handsome?”

She laughed. “You did. You are handsome.”

“Me? Come on, be serious.”

“I am. I’m very serious.”

He swallowed. “Wow. Okay. Thanks. I wasn’t fishing.”

“Yes, you were. It’s okay.”

“I think you’re the most amazing and beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” Now he put the phone down and facepalmed.

“Oh, Marty. Damn. That’s so sweet.”

They both laughed.

“I’ll figure out when we’re coming, and we can talk about plans.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.”

“Take care.” He clicked off his phone and sighed. 

At lunch time, he went shopping. He schlepped the bags into his office and plucked an orange from the fridge. As he checked out the receipt, Flint walked in.

“What’s all that?”

“Stuff.” He ripped off a section of fruit.

“Yeah, I kinda figured it was stuff. What for?” Flint unwrapped a juicy cheeseburger from The Cozy Café.

“It’s for Jen’s kids. What do you think?”

Flint sat back in his chair and eyed his brother. “I think the word pussy-whipped might apply.”

“Stop! Seriously. This is all for the kids.”

He pulled out a soccer ball, two pails and shovels, drawing paper, an enormous box of crayons, and a small checkerboard and checkers.

“What’s the pail and shovel for? It’s too cold to go to the beach.”

“Playground has a sandbox.”

Marty peeled the orange as he watched his brother shake his head. 

"Bad. You got it bad." 

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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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