Sunday Bookends: Peggy Rowe, finding fellow Mitford fans, and the last week in our house

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings7 Comments

Here we are: at the final week in our current house. It’s been a bitter sweet time as we are excited to leave this area in some ways (some bad memories from here) and sad at the same time (we have some really nice neighbors). The other day we received some snow and I looked out at the hills that hug this Valley, at the snow clinging to the pine trees and said to my daughter (who is 5): “Look at the beautiful trees out there. Isn’t that amazing?” She let out a heavy sigh and said: “I’m going to miss those hills.”

Somehow she always seems older than she is, which seems to be a familiar trend with my children.

Not sure how well you can see the hills with power lines in front of them and fog settling on them. We always have fog here in the mornings and on certain days because the town is located between two rivers.

Of course, we will still be surrounded by hills at our new home, which is only about 45 miles away from where we live now.

We get the moving truck Tuesday and start loading it up, most likely on our own since everyone is afraid of everyone else these days, (understandably),

I’m not really sure how we are going to load up the couches and heavier furniture, but right now we don’t have a choice. If we don’t move out we could lose the mortgage it took us months to get and the buyers of our house could be in the same situation.

I’m a total wimp anymore with all my weird health issues or hormones, or whatever, so please pray I get some strength next week and can help get things loaded up. Luckily we have a couple of days to load the truck before we have to be totally out of the house so it will give us time to pause and gasp for air.

Last week (and the week before) I started re-reading some familiar, cozy books to help take my mind off various stresses. One of those books was About My Mother by Peggy Rowe (mother of Dirty Job’s fame Mike Rowe). The other is The Light in the Window by Jan Karon. It is the second book in The Mitford Series. After Jan Karon made an announcement about them on her Facebook page, I even found a fan club that is reading the first book this next month and we can all share our favorite parts and talk about our favorite characters. That should be a nice distraction (if I have Internet at the new house during the month because we aren’t sure how long it will take to get Internet hooked up with all that is going on.)

I’ve been following Peggy on Facebook (her interviews with Mike are hilarious!) for awhile, and am looking forward to her new book, About Your Father and Other Celebrities I Have Known: Ruminations and Revelations from a Desperate Mother to Her Dirty Son, which will be released on April 14. I don’t normally pre-order books, but I pre-ordered this one on Kindle.

I not only started re-reading the book but had a gift credit for Audible and downloaded the book there too, which Mrs. Rowe reads herself. I needed that for something uplifting to focus on while I go to sleep at night. I fell asleep listening to her the night before.

For those who might be interested, here is the description for About My Mother:


A love letter to mothers everywhere, About My Mother will make you laugh and cry – and see yourself in its reflection.

Peggy Rowe’s story of growing up as the daughter of Thelma Knobel is filled with warmth and humor. But Thelma could be your mother – there’s a Thelma in everyone’s life.  She’s the person taking charge – the one who knows instinctively how things should be. Today, Thelma would be described as an alpha personality, but while growing up, her daughter Peggy saw her as a dictator – albeit a benevolent, loving one. They clashed from the beginning – Peggy, the horse-crazy tomboy, and Thelma, the genteel-yet-still-controlling mother, committed to raising two refined, ladylike daughters. Good luck.

When major league baseball came to town in the early 1950s and turned sophisticated Thelma into a crazed Baltimore Orioles groupie, nobody was more surprised and embarrassed than Peggy. Life became a series of compromises – Thelma tolerating a daughter who pitched manure and galloped the countryside, while Peggy learned to tolerate the whacky Orioles fan who threw her underwear at the television, shouted insults at umpires, and lived by the orange-and-black schedule taped to the refrigerator door.

Sometimes it takes a little distance to appreciate the people we love.

The description for About Your Father:

Peggy Rowe is at it again—this time giving a hilarious inside look at growing up Rowe, both before and after Mike’s rise to fame.

Since the day they said, “I do,” Peggy’s previous “doting” lifestyle met with her husband John’s minimalist ways and became the backdrop for years of adventure and a quirky sense of humor because of their differences. From thoughts of wearing headlamps in the house to save energy, to squeezing out the last drop of toothpaste with a workbench vise, Peggy learned to pick her battles and celebrate the hilarity in each situation.

Once their boys were born, woodstove mishaps and garbage dumping tales were the seed for Mike’s obsession with doing dirty jobs and the comical presence he is known for today.

As Mike rose to fame, Peggy was his biggest fan—who gave motherly advice and constructive criticism, of course. She baked cookies for Mike to take to Joan Rivers for a Christmas party hostess gift, and even wrote fan letters under faux names and mailed them from different cities to Mike’s producer.  

By the time Mike hits it big, Peggy and John retire to face more adventures, with a lightning strike in their condo, an elderly friend who ate marijuana leaves, and entering into celebrity status by making Viva paper towel and Lee jeans commercials, plus so much more.

Peggy’s stories relive the details that intrigue and entertain old and new fans alike. So if you want a bigger, even funnier take on the Rowe family, About Your Father and Other Celebrities I Have Known delivers.

– Amazon

One of the other things that helped keep us distracted this week from the moving stress (and other things) has been watching the bald eagles on the livecam sponsored by the Pennsylvania Game Commission. This week my daughter and I missed the egg hatching because it happened at night but we were able to see the mama eagle feed the baby some fish the next day.

That was exciting for both of us since it was a first for us both. We have heard that the other egg hatched, but haven’t seen the new eaglet yet. The baby in the third egg apparently didn’t make it because some of the people in the live chat said the father eagle crushed the egg and fed it to the baby that lived. Gross, but nature.

We were watching another live cam feed and it looks like the egg that those eagles were taking care of is not going to hatch, unfortunately.

We have also enjoyed watching the Orangutans on the San Diego Zoo’s live cam.

The weather was a little weird this week with some sun, some rain and then actual snow one day. The up and down temperatures seems to be how spring is here, though. My daughter enjoyed running into the snow and standing under the gutter spout to get her hair wet, as well as trying to get me wet by throwing snowballs at me.

Showing me how cold and wet her hand is from gathering snow.

Getting groceries and supplies has been a little odd with everything going on and while we once looked forward to care packages with treats in them, we were all (okay, just me) excited to get a care package from my parents with two of the hottest commodities around the nation right now (there are disinfectant wipes under the toilet paper :

I ordered a few things from Walmart online two weeks ago and just received the items this past week. I’ve decided not to order from them again at least until after we move and maybe not at all until after things settle down a little with this virus.

The whole situation with all of this stuff in the news, by the way, has left me looking a bit like this lady below, who I plan to write about next week:

So, how about all of you? How are you holding up? What are you reading, watching, doing? Let me know in the comments.

Special Saturday Fiction: A New Beginning Final Chapter

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, fiction7 Comments

Here we are to the final chapter of A New Beginning. That you to those of you who followed me on this journey and for sharing your thoughts. I plan to have the Kindle version of this book up sometime in April after it has been proofed, edited and even revised.

The sun was bright, glistening off the cars in the church parking lot and through the leaves of the trees. Judson’s fingers were intertwined with mine as we walked out of the church, on our way to Edith and Jimmy’s for lunch.

Judson let go of my hand as we walked toward the top step and looped his arm through Jessie’s while she slowly made her way down the front steps.

“Here, Miss Jessie,” he said in his smooth Southern accent. “Let me help escort you down the stairs.

His Southern politeness always sent tingles of adoration rushing through me.

Jessie looked up at him with an expression of delight. “Oh my! Such a Southern gentleman!” she declared.

Judson laughed softly as they progressed slowly to the next step. “Anything for you Miss Jessie.”

“Now, Judson, if that is indeed true, I need to ask you a serious question.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Are you going to marry Blanche soon or what? You two have been holding hands and looking all sweet at each other for quite a while now. I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to see her happily married  before I die. Now, how about you move along and just ask her to marry you already?”

Judson looked startled and laughed. “Well, Miss Jessie. It’s really up to Blanche if she wants to marry me. I’m game if she is.”

Jessie snorted. “’I’m game if she is,’” she said in a mocking tone as she paused on the bottom step. “Will you just listen to that? Young people today, I tell you. What kind of proposal was that, young man? I thought you were a Southern gentlemen. You better do it right.”

Judson grinned, looking at me. A rush of butterflies swirled in my stomach. I recognized that grin as the same one he’d had before he tossed me in the lake the week before and the one that crossed his face when he dropped a fishing lure that looked like a spider on my lap a few weeks before that. What was he about to do?

I pressed my hand against my cheeks in disbelief when he stepped off the last step with Miss Jessie and dropped to one knee in the dirt at the end of the church stairs, in front of everyone walking out of the service. My face flushed warm and I knew it must be red.

“Blanche Robbins,” he said, holding his arms out to his side dramatically, exaggerating his Southern accent even more. “Will you consent to be my wife?”

I walked down the last two steps, Jackson behind me, and stood in front of Judson, unsure if I should laugh or cry.

He leaned closer to me, looked up  and whispered, “I don’t have the ring yet, but Miss Jessie ordered me to do it right and to hurry up about it so I figured I better listen and obey.”

I glanced at Jessie and tried not to laugh. “I’ll consent to be your wife, Judson T. Wainwright,” I said in my best Southern accent, curtseying slightly.

“Whoo-hoo!” Emmy’s voice broke over the splattering of applause from those standing outside the church as Judson stood and drew me close, kissing me gently. “I knew my plan would work,” she giggled. “And it only took three years.”

Miss Jessie patted Judson the shoulder. “Thank you, young man. You’ve made this old lady very happy. Now, don’t take your time planning the big day. Hurry up so I can be there.”

Judson and I laughed as we hugged her.

Several members of the church shook our hands as they walked by to their cars, congratulating us.

Judson leaned close to Jackson, who was now standing behind me. “Hey, buddy, is this okay with you?”

Jackson grinned a familiar mischievous grin, sliding his hands into his front dress pant pockets and leaned against the railing next to the stairs. “I get to call you dad when you two get married, right?”

Judson’s teasing grin faded into a more serious expression. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Absolutely, kid. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Jackson said, his tone matter-of-fact and displaying a maturity that surprised me, but also made my heart swell.

Daddy walked toward us, hands in his pockets, standing in a pose almost identical to Jackson’s.

“Well, I guess gone are the days of the man asking the father’s permission first,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face.

Judson looked alarmed and I could tell he was worried Daddy was really upset. “Oh sir, I’m so — ”

Daddy laughed loudly and slapped Judson hard on the back.

“No worries, my boy, I would have given you that permission. You’re like family to us already.”

Judson shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

Edith, Emmy and Lily surrounded me, Emmy holding Faith, Lily cradling Alexander.

“We’ve got to start planning!” Edith cried.

“We should have a June wedding,” Emmy said. “Or September. With all the leaves falling down around you. Outside, by the lake, where you first kissed.”

Edith turned to look at Emmy, then back at me.

“You two first kissed at the lake? Why didn’t I hear about this? You mean that weekend we went out there all together?”

I sighed. “We can talk about it on the way to your house for lunch.”

Edith kept talking. “Did he kiss you or did you kiss him? Is that why you were so quiet on the ride to the adoption agency that day?”

I walked toward the car as she continued to talk, laughing, and hugging Jackson close.

“We’re finally giving you the wedding you deserve,” Mama said, smiling through the tears, three months after Judson’s public proposal. “This dress you made is so beautiful.”

She lifted the veil and laid it back on top of my head. “And you are so beautiful too.”

She cradled my face in her hands and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, Mama.”

Edith was a giddy mess on the other side of the room. “It’s almost time! I am so excited! My little sister is getting married!”

Emmy was almost as giddy. “And now my best friend is going to be my cousin-in-law!”

Lily, whose demeanor had brightened slowly over the last year, smiled in amusement at the giddy display before her, pushing a strand of blond hair off her shoulder.

“You look beautiful, Lily,” I said. “I’m so glad you agreed to be a junior bridesmaid.”

She lowered her eyes sheepishly, her cheeks flushed red. “Thank you for asking me,” she said softly.

I had been apprehensive about Edith and Jimmy bringing Lily home with them, but now I couldn’t imagine life without her. She’d been quiet, withdrawn, and frightened her first few months at their home. Eventually, though, she began to open up more, finding interests that girls her age should have. Her mother had signed papers to make Edith and Jimmy her legal guardians six months earlier.

 Edith enrolled her in school and took care of Alexander during the day, bringing him with her to the shop most days, sometimes asking Mama to help watch him. In the evenings, Lily helped to care for Alexander, changing his diapers, giving him his bath and laying him down at night after his final bottle. Edith and Jimmy both wanted Alexander to call Lily “mom” when he was old enough to talk and referred to themselves simply by their first names. While Lily called them by their first names, I could see that she saw them as her parents.

The door to the Sunday School room opened and Marion peeked around it.

“I have your something old,” she said with a smile.

She stepped into the room and handed me a small, delicate white  handkerchief with pink flowers embroidered in the corners.

“This was my mother’s,” she said. “She gave it to me and now I want to give it to you.”

“Marion, I can’t take this…”

She laughed and winked. “Oh, sure you can. I carried it with me at my wedding with Stanley and so far that’s going well so it must be good luck.”

I tucked the handkerchief into the sash of the dress. “Thank you, Marion.”

“I have your something blue,” Emmy said, sliding a small blue flower into the curls piled on top of my head.”

“And you’re already wearing my something borrowed,” Edith said, gesturing to my shoes. “Don’t forget those are mine. I want them back after the wedding.”

I looked around the room at the women who were and had become family to me, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion. I knew Miss Mazie, Hannah and Buffy were all waiting in the sanctuary with the rest of the guests.

 As a teenager, I’d never imagined myself married and then when I married, I’d never imagined myself divorced. Once divorced I felt my chances at love were gone, but here I was, about to be married again, this time to someone who not only loved me and my son but also God. And here were the women who had helped me through it all, standing with me to rejoice in what I saw as a happy beginning after an unhappy season in my life.

“Okay, come on,” Edith said waving her hands in front of her eyes as tears welled in them. “Blanche is about to cry. Mama is about to cry. I’m about to cry. And if we cry we are all going to ruin our make-up. Blanche, reapply your lipstick and let’s get this show on the road. There is a handsome man upstairs waiting to marry you and a handsome boy standing next to him waiting to hug you both.”

I sat on a bench next to the window and looked in my purse for the lipstick. My hand touched an envelope I had shoved in there earlier that morning. I’d found it in the mailbox and when I saw the postmark, had quickly shoved it in my purse so no one else would see it. I slid it out and looked at it for a few moments before opening it.

“What’s that?” Edith asked, zipping up the back of Emmy’s dress.

“It’s a letter,” I said, staring at the words on the paper.

“From?”

“From Vietnam,” I said softly. “From Hank.”

Edith and Emmy looker at each other and then walked over to stand next to me, looking over my shoulder. Mama and Marion joined them.

Dear Blanche:

Just writing to let you know they shipped me to Vietnam four months ago. I won’t lie, it’s hell over here. I’m getting what I deserve and I know it. If I don’t make it back, tell Jackson his daddy was an idiot for never getting to know him.

Hank

I folded the letter, slid it back in the envelope and slid the envelope between the pages of my Bible, placing Hank where I should have placed him a long time ago – into the hands of God.

I flipped my veil over my face. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go. I have a new beginning waiting for me.”



Quarantined: A Short Story Part 5

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn short stories5 Comments

I feel like I’m overwhelming my blog with fiction (and posts in general), but, oh well, I guess. People seem to be following along and enjoying the stories so I’ll keep going. Plus, it’s good to give readers a lot of options that aren’t related to current events.

Quarantined was not a planned project. It came to me very fast and just poured out of me so I thought I’d share to my fiction loving readers (thanks for following along, by the way.) You can find the rest of the parts at the following links: Part 1, Part 2,Part 3, and Part 4. I’ll be posting the final part Sunday or Monday. For other fiction, you can check out the 35 chapters of A New Beginning, which will be published at a later date on Kindle (so you don’t have to click chapter to chapter if you haven’t been following along) or A Story To Tell, which is on Kindle now. By the way, this blog is not aimed at selling products, so I don’t mean to share about my book on every fiction post. My books are priced very low but I wanted somewhere I could place them where people could read them in full instead of skipping from chapter to chapter and I chose Amazon because I have a Kindle. I have found some other options since then for future books. Anyhow…let’s get on with the story, shall we?!


 They hadn’t spoken to each other for four days, other than for her to ask if the doctor had called and him to say ‘not yet,’ and him to ask if she wanted some lunch or dinner and her to say ‘I’ll make my own.’

He’d locked himself in his office, dealing with the fall out for his brother’s delay in quarantining himself after his interaction with the ambassador; writing press releases and using video chat features to do interviews with major news commentators.

She’d locked herself in the bedroom, writing bits and pieces of her novel in between pouring over news sites; scrolling through social media feeds for personal stories from those who had had the virus and were recovering. She wondered if she and Liam would eventually face the same situation, or would they be worse with one of them admitted to an ICU somewhere.

In the evenings she binged watched Parks and Recreation while eating ice cream or popcorn, grateful she’d stocked up on groceries even before Liam had told her about the quarantine. Liam spent his nights straightening boxes, speaking to his brother through video conferencing and binge-watching Bosch, the crime show about a rugged, hard-edged Los Angeles Police Department detective just what he needed to distract him from the restlessness he felt.

“So, how’s it going with Maddie?” Matt had asked via video messaging on night seven of their quarantine as he’d leaned back on his couch and cracked open a soda. His gaze wandered off to one side, toward something behind his computer before Liam could answer. “Jason. Stop hitting your sister. I don’t ca—you know what, just go outside. In the backyard. You’re allowed to go in the backyard. . . . I don’t know. Hit the ball. Chase the dog. I don’t care. Just get out for a while. Take your brother and sister with you . . . Hey! I’m still in charge around here. Do what I say!”

He looked back at Liam through the screen. “Fun times over here. I can’t wait until this thing is over.”

Liam scoffed. “It’s only been three days for you, dude. If you can’t handle three days with your wife and kids, you’re in serious trouble.”

Matt grinned. “Yeah. I know. First world problems, right? Anyhow, what’s up with you and Maddie. I see you’re still alive, so she hasn’t stabbed you yet.”

Liam winced and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Not for a lack of wanting to, I’d imagine.” He sat back against the headboard of the bed, arms across his chest. “We had it out the other night. The stuff she accused me of doing — you wouldn’t even believe it. Affairs, spending more time at work than with her, not supporting her after the miscarriages. It was all a bunch of crap.”

“Well?”

Liam scowled at his brother. “Well, what?”

“Did you do those things?”

“You know I didn’t, Matt.”

“Then why is it bothering you so much? Don’t be so defensive. You know you didn’t do anything wrong so let her rant.”

Liam shifted on the bed, focusing his gaze out the window. “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t support her like I should have after the miscarriages. And she’s pretty accurate about working too much too.”

“And the affairs?” Matt asked.

“No!” Liam snapped, looking back at his brother. “I didn’t have an affair.” He paused, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I could never do that to Maddie. You know that. We haven’t been getting along, yes, but I . . . I could never hurt her that way.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned closer to the screen of his laptop. “Do you really think I could do that?” he asked his brother.

Matt laughed. “Liam, no, I don’t, and I don’t know if Maddie really does either, but she’s scared. She obviously doesn’t feel secure in her relationship with you to think that. I don’t think you or Maddie really want this divorce. You’re both just afraid to do the work it will take to keep this thing going. It’s going to hurt, little brother, but I think you two need to work things out. I think you still love your wife or what she said to you wouldn’t have hurt so much.”

Liam shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Matt Grant. The hard-headed, some might say, pig-headed, youngest-ever head of the intel committee showing that he’s also a marriage counselor.”

The brothers laughed easily together.

“Seriously, though, Liam,” Matt said, leaning closer to the screen now. “Let me give you some brotherly advice: make darn sure this divorce is truly what you want before you sign those papers. You and Maddie have something special. Always have. I don’t want to see you throw this away without really thinking it through. Okay?”

Liam let out a long breath, tapping his fingers along the touchpad of the laptop.

Matt pressed him further. “Promise me you’ll think really hard about all of this while you two are locked up in there, okay?”

Liam nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Matt.”

Three nights later, on the tenth night of quarantine, Liam packed it in early, shutting off his phone and laptop around 10 p.m. and sliding under the covers, drained and glad he hadn’t yet experienced any coughing, muscle aches, or a sore throat. His mind was racing, filled with thoughts of work, thoughts of what this virus might mean to his parents, his older aunt and uncles, and anyone else whose health might be more vulnerable.

 His thoughts were also filled with Maddie.

She was sitting in the room down the hall, but she might as well have been thousands of miles away with all the interaction they’d had this past week.

Matt was right. Liam still loved Maddie and he was beginning to wonder if she had any love left for him.

Sleep had just begun to slip over him when he heard a soft knock on his door. He didn’t answer. He rolled over and closed his eyes tighter.

The door squeaked open and then footsteps, soft across the floor. What did she want? He was too tired for another fight.

“Liam?”

Maddie’s voice was barely audible. He ignored her.

She spoke a little louder. “Liam?”

He ignored her again.

She sighed in the darkness, he felt, rather than saw, her turn back toward the open doorway.

“What?”

Silence fell over the room and he heard a breath drawn in deep and slowly let out again.

“Will you hold me?”

He rolled over, squinting in the darkness, trying to make out her face to decide if she was serious or not.

“Just hold me. Nothing else.”

He wondered if this was some kind of trick. He squinted again, trying to see if her hand was behind her back; if she might suddenly draw a knife from there and stab him.

“Please?”

She seemed to be serious. Very. He heard a vulnerability in her tone that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Um . . . yeah. Okay.”

She lifted the sheet and comforter, sliding next to him, her body warm, her feet cold. Her feet had always been cold and she’d always slid them up his legs to warm them, making him squirm but laugh at the same time. Sometimes he’d asked if she needed the rest of her warmed up too and often she’d say yes and he’d snuggled close and nibbled at her earlobes.

He wasn’t going to ask her tonight if she needed warming up.

She laid her head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest over his heart and closed her eyes. She remembered how comforting the soft thump of his heartbeat had been for most of their marriage.

They laid in the dark listening to each other breathe until she whispered: “I tried to stay away from the news but it’s like watching a train wreck. I can’t seem to look away.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“People are scared.”

“Yeah.”

“They’re convinced they’re all going to die.”

“They’re not. Fear does crazy things to your mind.”

Silence settled over them again.

She laughed softly again. “Yeah. Like that time you had that spider on your arm when we were driving to my parents and you almost drove us into a river.”

Liam snorted a laugh. “Well, spiders are scary, what can I say? All those legs. . .” he shuddered. “It’s just creepy.”

Silence settled over them again.

“Liam?”

He stared into the darkness, at the light of the streetlight bleeding in under the blinds. “Yeah?”

“If this kills one of us —”

“Maddie, this isn’t going to kill either one of us. I already told you we don’t even know if my test is positive. And most of the cases are mild, especially in our age group. We’re not in the highest risk age group. Okay?”

“But if it does . . . I want you to know. . .” Maddie took a deep breath and spoke fast and softly as she exhaled. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I didn’t like you.”

Liam laughed softly.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“And, Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you thought you had to fix me. Only God can fix my broken heart.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Silence settled over them again and he laid his hand over hers, over the one laying on his chest.

“Maddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry you thought I didn’t care. I’m sorry I let my career become more important than our marriage.”

He had been trying not to be aware of her body warm against his, of the smell of her shampoo, of how soft the skin on her arm felt under his hand, of how her closeness made his heart rate increase. But he was aware of it. All of it. Much more than he wanted to be.

He slid his hand slowly up her arm, resting it just below her shoulder, squeezing gently.

He gently pressed his lips against the top of her head, her closeness suddenly intoxicating. “I love you, Maddie. Despite it all. I love you.”

He listened to her breathe and for a moment he thought she had fallen asleep.

 “I’m so tired. . .” she whispered against his neck, her breath warm. He could tell she was fading fast.

“Sleep,” he said softly. “We can talk more in the morning. It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

She slept but he couldn’t. Not now with her tucked against him soft and warm, kicking his thoughts into high gear. He hadn’t expected her to come to him for comfort. He hadn’t expected it, but he welcomed it and loved having her so close, even if it was only physically.

 Had she meant what she said? That she still loved him? Maybe it had been the stress and the worry talking. The exhaustion even. He wasn’t sure but what he was sure of was that those words had sparked a warm, comforting fire in the center of his chest. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her hand over his heart, trying to switch his brain off and knowing he’d meant it when he’d told her he still loved her.

Faithfully Thinking: Honestly, I don’t have it in me

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Faithfully Thinking12 Comments

I had thought about writing a post about trusting God, accepting God’s peace over the chaos of the world, but honestly, I don’t have it in me.

I was going to write about how when people abandon you, it’s okay because God is still there. Honestly? I don’t have it in me.

I was going to write how people are actually really good at heart and actually would care if you died, but . . . honestly. My heart is not in it.

That’s reality.

Sometimes we don’t even believe our own words.

Maybe we have to keep saying it until we do?

Fiction Friday: A New Beginning Chapter 34

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, fiction, Fiction Friday4 Comments

In case you missed it, I shared Chapter 33 of A New Beginning yesterday. I will be sharing the final chapter in a special Fiction Saturday tomorrow.

In case you missed my short story series, Quarantined, you can find the first part HERE.

You can pick up the first part of Blanche’s story on Kindle for $2.99 (or free until April 10 if you have Kindle Unlimited. )

I’ve also been writing a short story called Quarantined about an estranged couple who get stuck in their house together during a “virus outbreak” without really going into what the virus is or much about the situation surrounding it.

Chapter 34

I hooked my braid up on top of my hair with a hair pin, smiling as I saw Judson’s reflection in the mirror grinning at me.

“Need any help?”

“I think I can manage,” I told him with a smile.

He sauntered toward me and placed his hands on my arms. I looked at our reflection together in the mirror, a mix of contentment and excitement rushing through me. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him as he lowered his mouth to my neck.

“Are you sure we have to go this wedding?” he asked in a husky tone, his mouth now on my ear. “We could just stay here and —”

I turned to face him, laying my finger against his lips. “You know we can’t do that. This is a big day for Marion and Stanley.”

His arms were solid around my waist, his mouth turning upward into a grin under my finger. “I know, but I can dream, can’t I?”

I took my finger away and kissed him, my hands against his chest, reveling in how I could kiss him mouth the way I had wanted to for so long.

“Gross!”

Judson and I laughed at Jackson standing in the doorway with a disgusted expression on his face.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to the wedding,” Jackson grumbled. “You can be all kissy later.”

“Okay, buddy,” Judson said, stepping away from me and ruffling Jackson’s hair.

“Hey! I just combed that!” Jackson laughed, pushing his hand away.

“See you three at Marion’s!” Mama called from her bedroom as she hooked an earring in.

“If your mother ever finishes getting ready,” Daddy whispered as we passed him in the living room.

“I heard that, Alan!” Mama called.

Sitting together inside Judson’s truck a few moments later, Jackson between us, I reflected on how close the three of us had become in the last six months since Judson and I had told each other how we felt. We saw each other almost every day either at lunch at the diner or at dinner at my parents’ house. In some ways, it was like my parents had already made him a member of the family, even without a ring on my finger.

A faint smile crossed my lips as I remembered a day a week ago when Judson had been working on the construction of a new hardware store in town. Two young women had apparently left their office for lunch and were sitting across the park from the site, chatting and watching the work being done.

“Can’t beat the view from here,” the one with her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail said with a wink.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Those construction workers are easy on the eyes,” the other one, a brunette with hair spilling across her shoulders said, popping the top off her Pepsi.

“Are they now?” I asked slyly, following their gaze to where Frankie Benjamin, Tyler Simpson, Emmy’s dad and Judson were busy on the roof.

The two women were sitting at a picnic table, facing the site as they ate.

“Which one would you pick?” the blond asked, taking a small bite from her sandwich.

“Definitely the one in the white tank top,” the brunette answered. “He’s a cutie.”

She was talking about Frankie, who I knew was single and looking.

“For me it’s the one in the blue T-shirt,” the blond said, biting her lower lip.

I watched Judson climb down the ladder from the roof, the blue T-shirt he was wearing highlighting his sculpted upper arms perfectly. His faded blue jeans weren’t looking too bad on him either.

“Which one would you like to go out with?” the blond asked me with a wink.

I smiled, my gaze still focused on Judson. “The one with the blue shirt really is something else, isn’t he?”

The brunette gently tapped her friend in the arm. “I told you,” she said. She looked back up at me. “I’ve been enjoying watching him for two days now.”

“Ah. I see.”

Judson looked up as he started to climb back up the ladder, saw me and smiled broadly before dropping his tools into the back of his truck and heading toward me.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” The brunette tapped her friend in the arm again. “He’s coming this way.”

My heart was pounding as I watched at the way he was watching me as he walked, his smile broad, his eyes intensely focused on mine. When he reached me and placed his hands on either side of my waist and pulled me gently toward him, I felt the same weakness in my knees I’d felt the night we’d kissed on his porch.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the women watching me with surprised expressions.

“Hey,” I said back.

“I missed you while you were gone. Did you have a good trip to see Miss Mazie?”

I giggled. Honestly giggled. Since when had I started doing that?

“I’ve only been gone since yesterday.”

“Yesterday was a long time ago. I’ve had to go all this time without being able to hold you or kiss you. I want to hold and kiss you now but I’m pretty sweaty and I don’t want —”

I knew it was juvenile, but I wanted to make sure those women knew who Judson belonged to, so to speak. Before he could finish his sentence, I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to mine.

I let my mouth linger on his lower lip as I pulled away several seconds later, making sure I gave those gawking women a good show.

“This is certainly the best job site visit I’ve ever had,” he said with a small laugh.

“I brought you some lunch,” I told him. “I can head back to the car to grab it if you want.”

He grinned down at me and I let go of his check. “I’d like that,” he said. “Let me get it for you. We can sit on the back of the truck and eat.”

As Judson walked toward Daddy’s car I smiled sweetly at the women. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.”

I practically skipped toward Judson’s truck, feeling both foolish and giddy, leaving the women watching me with stunned expressions.

I laughed softly at the memory as Judson drove toward Marion’s.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “Just thinking about last week with those women at your job site.”

He smirked. “You mean when you planted one very long, passionate kiss on me to show those women who I belonged to?”

I tipped my head back and laughed while Jackson squirmed.

“Ah, man. Gross. Can you two just knock it off already?”

At Marion’s, guests were already gathering in her backyard for her wedding with Stanley. They had planned a small event with a few friends and family and Pastor Frank officiating.

 “I’m going to go see if Marion needs anything,” I told Judson, walking up the front steps.

Inside the front door, my stomach lurched at the sight of a man talking to Thomas and Midge in the living room. He had the same long nose, green eyes and attractive square jawline as Hank, but his features were softer, his mannerism more relaxed.

Marion stepped off the bottom step of her stairs, her hair piled on top of her head, a flowing, purple dress showing off her slender figure.  

She smiled at me and touched my elbow. “Blanche, come in and say hi to Tom.”

Tom turned toward me, his smile warm and inviting.

“Blanche,” he said stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Good to see you again.”

It seemed strange I had only met the younger brother of my ex-husband once before, but he’d left the area after high school and hadn’t returned until after his father had passed away. Even when he had returned, his visits had been brief and I often avoided Marion’s during them to make sure she had plenty of time alone with him.

I smiled and took his hand. “Hey, Tom. Looks like we have two Tom’s here today.”

Thomas grinned and winked at me. “Yeah, but I’m the better looking one, right?”

Midge nudged Thomas gently in the side with her elbow. “Oh, Thomas. You’re so silly.”

The way she looked at him, though, showed she definitely thought he was the best looking Thomas in the room.

Hank’s brother laughed good-naturedly at their banter. He looked at Jackson who had walked through the doorway and was now standing behind me.

“Hey, is this Jackson?” He held his hand out and Jackson looked at for a moment, then took it. “Nice to meet you, bud. I’m your Uncle Tom.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jackson said in the adult tone he’d been speaking in more in the last year.  

I could tell he wasn’t sure what to make of the man standing before him and was trying to determine how exactly the man was his uncle, especially since he’d never met him before. It wasn’t lost on me his mental wheels had been turning more now that he was 9-years old, wondering who his biological father really was. He’d seen photos of Hank at Marion’s, knew she was his grandmother and knew most children had two sets of grandparents. More than once he’d started a conversation I thought would end up with a discussion about his father, but at the last minute he’d changed the subject. I struggled with deciding if I should press the subject with him or not.

Tom looked at me and smiled. “I can see you’ve done a great job raising him, Blanche.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

“I hope we can talk later. I’m going to go see where they need me for the ceremony. I’m walking Mama down the aisle.”

I watched him walk across the room to Marion, who was now talking to an attractive red headed woman in a red blouse and white skirt. Tom leaned over and kissed the cheek of the redhead and then smiled at his mother. I let out a long breath, not even realizing until then that I had holding it practically the whole time Tom was talking to me.

I was glad to see him here to support his mother, happy to see how happy it made her, but hoped there weren’t any other surprises in store for me.

“Hey, buddy, I’ve got us a seat in the front row,” Judson told Jackson as he walked inside the house. “It’s a great spot to watch your mom being your grandma’s maid-of-honor.”

My muscles relaxed when we were all outside in the yard, music drifting from a record player Stanley had set up. It had been silly for me to worry Hank might be here somewhere. I knew Marion would have told me. As far as she and I both knew he was in basic training in North Carolina still. We hadn’t heard from him since the night he and Judson had fought outside my shop.

For more than six months I had felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I refused to let that weight come back, especially during such a wonderful time for Marion.

I stood behind Marion as Pastor Frank led them through their vows, much like I had with Edith the day she married Jimmy. I watched Stanley watching Marion as the pastor spoke, his eyes brighter than I could ever remember them, his smile warm and only for Marion. A small tremble shuddered through Marion’s hand as he slid the ring on her finger and I knew it was anticipation of good things to come for her life.

When I realized Judson was watching me, I couldn’t read his expression. As our eyes locked a smile flitted across his lips and I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment. Jackson sat next to him, looking incredibly bored. Next to Jackson sat Lily, a small smile tugging at her mouth as she watched the exchange of the vows. She seemed enamored with the entire process. Edith held Alexander facing out on her lap and he clapped his hands, giggling as Stanley promised to “take this woman and to have and to hold her.”

My gaze slid across the rows at Mama and Daddy holding hands; at Thomas with his arm across the back of Midge’s chair, smiling broadly; at Midge watching him adoringly; at Tom and his wife sitting next to each other and his wife taking his hand in hers, gently rubbing the top of it with her thumb.

Like I had at Edith’s wedding, I felt a twinge of envy at this beautiful moment, at this time when family and friends could show their love and support of Marion and Stanley’s marriage. I’d run off with Hank, so I had never experienced that moment and longed to have a similar experience one day.

Pastor Frank’s voice pulled me from my reverie.

“And now by the power invested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

The reception was simple with finger foods and homemade desserts and tables set up around the yard. Lily and Jackson took turns pushing each other on the tire swing and joy rushed through me at the sight of Lily being the child she had probably never had the chance of being before.

“Hey, Blanche.”

I turned with a plate full of cut up veggies and cheese and smiled at Tom.

“It was a really nice ceremony,” I said.

“It was,” Tom agreed. “Listen. . . This is going to sound weird, but I wanted to catch you while I’m here and tell you that I’m sorry for how Hank treated you. I know I didn’t have anything to do with it, but I feel I need to apologize on behalf of my family somehow. He has a lot of anger in him. I know. I had it too. It’s why I stayed away so long.”

He leaned against the tree we were standing next to, folding his arms casually across his chest. “But that anger is like a cancer. It will eat you up inside and destroy you and everyone around you. I almost let it and would have if I hadn’t found God and Mary. I’ve been praying for my brother, hoping he will find his way out of the darkness someday before it’s too late.”

I laid my hand against his shoulder. “Thank you, Tom.”

He nodded then glanced over my shoulder toward where Judson was sitting talking to Mama and Daddy. He looked back at me again with a smile. “It looks like you found someone who will treat you right and I’m so happy for you, Blanche. This new beginning is certainly something you deserve.”

Seven Days and Counting

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings10 Comments

If everything goes as planned, the next seven days will be our final days living in this house. The moving truck has been booked and most of the house has been packed up. The animals are on high alert; they know something is up.

Despite the craziness going on in the world around us, we’ve been told the sale of our house and the purchase of the other one can be finalized on Friday of next week.

My mind had been preoccupied with worries of a virus and empty shelves so much in the last two weeks that it was only this week that I started to say to myself “This will be one of the last times we draw on this sidewalk,” or “This is one of the last times we will watch a show together in this house,” or “This is one of the last times I’ll wave at that particular neighbor from across the street.”

Much like the news these days, it’s all a bit surreal for us right now.

My daughter played in the water that always settles in that one place in our driveway after the rain one day last week and I thought “This is one of the last times she will ever jump in that puddle in our driveway.” Then I remembered that soon it won’t even be “our driveway.”

My son rode his bike toward me and as I looked through the photos I thought “this is one of the last times he’ll ride his bike down that street.”

There are a lot of memories in this house; first cries, first steps, first lost teeth. There are ghosts too — a kitty in the corner that’s no longer there; a puppy on the end of the bed whose also no longer there. We owned four cats and two dogs (not all at the same time) while living in this house and three of those cats and one of those dogs are now gone.

We’ve lost a lot of relatives in the last 16 years we’ve lived here — grandparents, a special aunt, aunts and uncles. We’ve lost friendships and some innocence. With all that we lost we gained a lot too. We gained wisdom, appreciation of what we had, and a stronger bond with God and between ourselves.

I’m nervous about this move. I won’t lie. I’m nervous about doing it when the world is upside down around us.

But part of me is excited too.

There are new memories to be made, more experiences to be had, and maybe even a few new beginnings too.

Fiction Thursday: A New Beginning Chapter 33

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday, Fiction Thursday5 Comments

Welcome to the last week of A New Beginning. I’ll be sharing the last three chapters today, tomorrow and Saturday.

Since we will be moving next week, I don’t know if I will start sharing more fiction next week or the following week. I’ll play it by ear, as the saying goes.

You can pick up the first part of Blanche’s story on Kindle for $2.99 (or free until April 10 if you have Kindle Unlimited. )

I’ve also been writing a short story called Quarantined about an estranged couple who get stuck in their house together during a “virus outbreak” without really going into what the virus is or much about the situation surrounding it.


Chapter 33

It was almost noon when I heard his truck pull into the driveway. I’d barely slept but I tossed the covers aside and rushed to the window, feeling like a young girl again. I sat on my knees, leaning my chin on my arms folded on top of the windowsill.

I watched Judson climb out of the truck and reach in the back for Daddy’s toolbox that he’d borrowed a few days before to repair a broken pipe in his kitchen. Watching the stretch of muscles along his upper arms with longing, I thought about his arms around me the night before and wondered how I should act around him in front of Mama and Daddy.

At that moment I wanted to fly down the stairs and throw my arms around him but cringed at the idea of Mama and Daddy teasing me, or the opposite, looking at me disapprovingly. Even worse might be their declarations that a wedding should be planned immediately.

“Judson!”

Jackson’s voice broke through my thoughts and I watched my son run out the front door and throw his arms around Judson’s waist.

Judson hugged him back with one arm, the other hand holding the toolbox. “Hey, kid! What are you up to?”

“I’m building a model airplane. Want to help?”

“Absolutely. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday.”

I heard the front door open and Daddy greet Judson, ask him about how the repair had gone. I heard Mama in the kitchen ask Judson if he would stay for lunch. It was all so much different than when I had fallen for Hank. Judson was welcome, almost part of the family already. The peace I felt was foreign after courting inner turmoil for so long.

I felt an unexplainable nervous buzz in the pit of my stomach as I walked down the stairs after quickly dressing and dragging a brush through my hair, leaving it down around my shoulders like Judson liked it. 

“There you are sleepyhead,” Mama said cheerfully from the kitchen.

“Long night?” Daddy asked, sitting at the table and picking up a piece of the model airplane.

Judson was leaning against the doorframe in the kitchen, a small smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked at me. He looked amazing, but then again, when didn’t he look amazing? My face flushed warm under his gaze.

“Yes,” I said, my voice sounding higher pitched than I’d meant it to as I walked to the fridge to pour myself a glass of juice.

“How about you, Judson?” Daddy asked as he squeezed a line of glue on an airplane wing. “Long night?”

Judson’s smirk faded. He coughed softly.

“Well, no sir. Just a . . . well, a good night.”

“Mmmhmm.”

It was clear Daddy knew exactly why I was so tired this morning.

“Maybe you two should take a walk,” Mama said, turning around from the sink where she was washing dishes.  “A good stretch of the legs might wake you both up a little bit after your long night.”

Oh my gosh. Mama knows too.

She smiled. “I’ll start lunch and have it ready when you get back.”

Good grief. They were like some kind of creepy parental clairvoyants.

Fallen leaves crunched under our feet in the backyard.

“What was that all about?” Judson asked, clearly amused.

“I’m guessing my parents heard you bring me home,” I said. “They apparently aren’t the heavy sleepers I thought they were.”

Judson laughed. “Well, they can’t be too unhappy, or I’d be being shot at right now.”

We walked toward the fence along the backyard and Judson interlaced his fingers with mine.

He glanced at me and grinned. “Based on last night I guess I don’t have to worry about Thomas stealing you away.”

I tipped my head back and laughed. “Thomas? You were worried about Thomas?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

I laughed. “Thomas is – well, not as bad as I thought, but he’s still just a huge flirt. And he’s definitely not someone you have to worry about. He is not who has been keeping me awake at night with racing thoughts.”

“Thoughts of me kept you awake at night?”

“Definitely.”

“That’s good to hear since the same thing has been happening to me since I was first reintroduced to you at Emmy’s that day two years ago.” He tipped his head toward the ground. “And maybe off and on since I saw you at Edith and Jimmy’s reception. Of course, back then I thought you weren’t an option because you were married.”

Stopping at the fence, I turned toward Judson, leaning back against it.

“So, are you going to let me take you on a real date now?” he asked.

“I think that would be nice. We still have a lot to learn about each other.”

He stepped closer and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering and cupping my cheek.

“I hope we will have many years to do just that,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“You know,” he whispered when he pulled back for a moment. “That day at the movies when I was sitting between you and Sherry, all I could think about was how good your arm felt against mine and how much I wanted to slide my arm around you. I couldn’t even focus on the movie.”

“Oh, really?” A smile tugged at my mouth as I remembered Emmy telling me that day how she thought Judson had been wishing he’d been with me instead of Sherry.

Judson’s lips grazed mine as he spoke. “Oh, yes, really.”

Proving my family truly had horrible timing, I flinched when I heard Mama yelling from the back porch.

“When you two are done kissing, come in and set the table for lunch!”

I dropped my head against Judson’s chest and groaned.

“Oh my gosh. My parents. They are so embarrassing.”

Judson tipped his head back and laughed as he held me against me. He kissed me again before we walked inside for lunch, our hands intertwined again.

After lunch, Jackson and Judson sat at the kitchen table, putting together the rest of the model airplane. I leaned against the door frame, listening to their relaxed laughter and banter.

“I think this part goes,” Judson pressed a plastic wing into place. “right here.”

Jackson looked up at Judson, his green eyes permeated with admiration. I felt confident in that moment that my decision to tell Judson how I felt would be as good for Jackson as it would be for me.

My mind flashed forward, briefly imagining life with the three of us as a family, but I shook my head and turned myself away from the kitchen. It was too early to think that far ahead, too soon after Judson and I had finally established how we felt about each other. I may have dropped my protective walls for Judson, but I wouldn’t let my imagination careen out of control, only to end up in heartbreak like it had before.


Quarantined: (A Short Story Part 4)

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, short stories18 Comments

So, three things before you read part four of Quarantined. First, this is the fourth part of a six part story. You can find the links here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Second, are all of you using the new blocks system for writing now? I hated it when they first introduced it and I still somewhat hate it, but I’m getting used to it.

Third, does anyone who uses WordPress know if you can make text single line and indent?

And fourth (I know, I said three, so sue me.), what do you think of the story so far? Let me know in the comments!

QUARANTINED (5)

The smell of bacon and brewing coffee woke him. Sunlight poured across the bedroom floor and Liam squinted in the light, disoriented.

What time was it? He looked down at his wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants. Had he slept all yesterday afternoon and night here? He snatched his phone from the bedside table. 8:30 a.m., Thursday.

He dragged his hand through his hair and across the back of his neck, which was stiff from laying in the same position for so long. He inhaled deeply to try to wake himself up and smelled the bacon again. And coffee.

Who was making breakfast?

Who else would be making breakfast, Liam? he thought, walking groggily down the hallway. You two are the only ones here, idiot.

Maddie was standing at the stove with her back to him, flipping an over-easy egg. She hated over-easy eggs. It must be for him and for that he was grateful at least.

“Hey,” she said turning to face him, spatula in her hand.

“Hey.”

“I made you some coffee and bacon. Your egg is almost done.”

“You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

She shrugged, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. He had thought she would still be mad this morning but instead, she seemed indifferent about it all. She slid the plate across the breakfast bar to him and carried her plate with her to the kitchen table.

“I guess I figured we should have a good breakfast before we get too sick to eat,” she said sullenly, taking a bite of bacon.

He sipped his coffee. Two spoonfuls of sugar and vanilla bean creamer. She knew how he liked it, that was for sure. He was feeling guilty as he dug into the eggs. He needed to tell her the truth. That he didn’t even know if he really had the virus. Maybe he’d wait until their breakfast was done at least, so he didn’t have to dodge the flying frying pan while he tried to finish his cup of coffee.

“Have you heard anything from Matt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I have a feeling he and John are still trying to put out fires from all this. Maybe they are in quarantine by now too.”

“You’re his press secretary. Shouldn’t you be in on putting out the fires.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but John’s my assistant. I’m sure Matt will be calling soon, pulling his hair out or going stir crazy. One or the other.”

She nodded and finished her toast.

“Have you talked to your parents?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him. She studied her plate of food. “Yeah. They’re fine. Mom is having a hard time keeping Dad from going in and out of stores for supplies and stopping to help everyone he knows, but they’re locked in now, trying to stay well. They’re worried about me, of course.”

Oh, crud. He had to tell her so she could tell her parents there was a chance she might not catch the virus. There was a good possibility she might kill him, but he had to tell her.

“Maddie, listen. . .” She turned her head to look at him. He cleared his throat. She cocked an eyebrow. This was going to be rough.

“There’s a possibility I don’t have the virus.”

Her eyebrows sank into a scowl and she pursed her lips, looking at him for several moments before she spoke.

“I’m sorry?”

“The doctor who took the test said he’d have the results in a couple of days but that there was a chance I didn’t have it.”

“You told me you had the virus, Liam. Had it, not might have it. You yelled it at me, in fact.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just —”

“It’s just, what? You told me it was positive. Are you telling me now that you lied to me?”

“Yes but listen … I just didn’t want to talk about it. I know I should have cleared it up, but I needed you to stay in the house and I figured you wouldn’t listen to me if I said I might have it. If you’d left and someone found out it could have been bad for Matt.”

Her eyes were ablaze with fury now, crimson spreading up her cheekbones. “I have been sitting here waiting to feel sick, looking up ways to deal with the coughing and the fever if one of us gets it and you still don’t know if you really have it? Holy crap, Liam. Really?”

“I was still exposed. This is still the right thing to do.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you lied to me. Again.”

“Again? What are you even talking about?”

She turned away from him, standing up from the table, and walking to the window. She crossed her arms tight across her chest, her back to him. “Why did you want this divorce?” she asked, her voice strained.

“What?”

“I said why —”

“I heard what you said, Maddie. I’m not the one who asked for this divorce. You are. Remember?”

“Only because I knew you wanted it.”

“You knew I wanted it? You never even asked me what I wanted. You never ask me what I want.”

“I could tell by how you acted that you didn’t want to be married anymore.”

He pushed his plate and mug away from him. He couldn’t even believe what he was hearing.  Standing from the breakfast bar and faced her with his hands on his hips.

“Okay. Yeah. Whatever. You know what? Just go ahead and make decisions for me, like you always do, Maddie.”

She turned to face him, her arms falling to her side. “What are you even talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

There went that eyebrow again. “No, actually, I don’t.” She gestured in front of her as if she was conducting a magic trick. “Enlighten me.”

That was it. He’d had enough of her acting like he was the one guilty for the collapse of their marriage.

“Like how you decided we weren’t going to try for any more children, for one.”

She was talking through clenched teeth now. “I did not decide that, Liam. You decided that by running off to run Matt’s campaign and never being home.”

“You pushed me away, Maddie. You acted like you were the only one who’d lost those babies.”

Maddie looked stunned. Her face flushed an even darker red, her eyes swimming with tears.

“I needed you, Liam! I needed you to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay and —”

“I did hold you. I did tell you it would be okay.”

“At first yes, but it was like after a while my grieving just pissed you off.”

He carried his empty breakfast plate and coffee mug to the sink. “We needed to move on, Maddie. We couldn’t wallow in our misery forever.”

He grabbed the pan from the stove next, turning to place it in the sink too.

“Our misery?” Maddie shook her head in disbelief. “I was the one who carried those babies, who lost those babies, whose body failed her, who —”

Liam’s blood boiled. He slammed the pan down on the countertop by the stove and swung to face Maddie. “They were my babies too dammit.”

Maddie stepped back, hugging her arms tight around her, gulping back a sob.

“Yes, it was our misery. It wasn’t all about you,” he continued, his voice shaking with anger. “We made those babies together and we lost them together and I stopped trying to comfort you because nothing I did helped you. I could never do anything right and —”  Liam cursed again, furious at the emotion choking his words, the tears burning his eyes. “I couldn’t fix you, Maddie. I couldn’t make it right. And eventually I couldn’t fix us, and I gave up trying because I didn’t think you wanted me to fix us.”

Maddie dragged her hand across her face and turned to walk back into the living room, bone chilling exhaustion rushing over her. How could he say that? That she didn’t want him to fix them? That she didn’t want to fix this marriage? He was the one who — she shook her head, sitting on the couch, tears rolling down her face. She curled up in a ball, facing the back of the couch, pulling her mother’s quilt off the back and draping it over her.

“That’s what you always do, isn’t it?” he snapped, walking into the living room. “Just walk away and never deal with anything.”

She flung the quilt off her and sat up. “I never deal with anything? And what have you been doing to deal with things? Burying yourself in your work instead of dealing with your life at home, with your marriage that was falling apart was dealing with things? You could have fooled me. Flirting with staffers and reporters instead of coming home and facing the disaster that was our relationship. Was that how you dealt with things too?”

Liam made a face and scowled at her. “Flirting with who?”

“You know who. Wendy. That little redhead from channel 12.”

Liam scoffed. “Wendy? I never flirted with her. She’s not my type.”

“I guess all those female staffers in your brother’s office that you wink at aren’t your type either.”

“That I wink at? I don’t wink at those women and no, they aren’t my type either. Most of them are airheads.”

“Then who is your type? Because it definitely isn’t me or I wouldn’t,” Maddie’s voice cracked and tears filled her eyes again. “be home alone every night in our bed.”

Liam placed his hands on his hips and tipped his head. “Come on, Maddie – it’s not like I haven’t been alone too. It’s not like I’m getting any. I haven’t for a long time.”

He tossed his hands out in front of him then clenched them into fists and pressed them against his mouth. “You know what? I’m just done talking about this. We are getting nowhere. I’m going into my office to get some work done.”

The slamming of the door reverberated in her ears.

“Now who’s walking away from his problems?” she snapped under her breath, falling back onto the couch and pulling the quilt over her again.

Quarantined: (A Fictional Short Story Part 3)

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, short stories5 Comments

This is a short story inspired by current events. You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here, if you want to follow along. This is a six-part story (possibly five if I combine two parts). For anyone following A New Beginning, the last three chapters will be on the blog Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

QUARANTINED (4)

“It’s going to be okay, Maddie. We’ll try again.”

Liam’s voice had been warm, comforting, reassuring. His arms around her made her feel like her world wasn’t crumbling under her feet when she knew it actually was. He gave her hope, hope that one day they’d carry a pregnancy to term and they’d have a child of their own. But that had been four years ago, after their second miscarriage, and now, with a divorce looming like a dark specter on the horizon, Maddie had lost all hope of ever having children. She was 32, almost 33. Soon she’d be too old for children. The mere thought of dating again, of finding someone she wanted to have children with exhausted her.

Liam had been the only one she’d ever wanted to have children with.

Walking slowly around the culdesac, her head down, she knew that Liam was still the only one she wanted to have children with. Despite all the anger, all the hurt, all the ways he’d rejected her over the years, she wanted nothing more than for him to want her again. She knew that wasn’t going to happen, though. He’d barely flinched when she’d told him she wanted a divorce six months ago.

“Fine,” he’d said, jaw tight, looking away from her. “If that’s what you want, I’ll call Pete in the morning and he can start drawing up the paperwork.”

“It is what I want,” she’d responded.

It had been a lie. She hadn’t wanted a divorce. She’d wanted to shake him out of his complacency, to force him into realizing how much he’d neglected her for the past four years. Her plan had failed miserably. Instead of begging her to stay, he’d practically packed her bags. He’d called his lawyer, suggested a lawyer for her and told her they would need to decide who got what in terms of possessions, property, money.

“Of course you can have the house and I’ll provide alimony for you if you wish,” he’d told her, a stoic expression on his face, his voice practically monotone. “And I’m sure the process will be easier since . . .” He’d glanced up at her then, looking at her for a few moments. He’d swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Since there aren’t any children involved.”

That’s right, Liam, she had wanted to scream. There aren’t any children involved because you practically abandoned me for your career after my last miscarriage. You pushed me off for years when I asked when we could start trying again. You replaced me with conference calls and press conferences and political prestige within your brother’s crooked political circle of influence.

Maddie kicked at a rock on the sidewalk and felt tears clutching at her throat. “You replaced me, Liam,” she whispered as she walked. “The girl you said you’d always love because I’m the only one who ever made you feel like you were loved unconditionally.”

The tears came suddenly and she wiped at them furiously, afraid someone would see her and think she knew something they all didn’t because of who she was married to. She dreaded going back to the house, back to the husband who was shut up inside, not only inside the house, but inside himself.

Still, she couldn’t walk out here all day. She was actually tired. It had been a long week and she was feeling run down. She needed to rest, to keep her strength up in case she really did catch something from Liam. She walked slowly back to the house, making sure to wipe the tears from her face before she went back inside. The last thing she needed was Liam seeing her tears and asking her what was wrong, pretending he cared, when she knew he didn’t and hadn’t for a very long time.

It was quiet back inside the house. She breathed a sigh of relief and tossed her coat onto the couch. Finally some peace and quiet. Liam had probably locked himself in his office to start working on press releases with John and Matt. She glanced at the office door as she sat down and saw it was open. She couldn’t hear Liam talking or typing away on his computer.

She groaned softly as she stood, a sharp pain shooting down her upper back. She stood and waited for the pain to subside, knowing it was stress-induced. She hunched her shoulders and clenched her jaw when she was angry or upset and she knew it was putting a strain on her back. She walked gingerly down the hallway toward Liam’s office and out of the corner of her eye she saw him in the spare room, asleep on his back, a pillow hugged to his chest. She paused and leaned against the doorway. She remembered her friend Annie telling her how peaceful her children looked asleep, how easy it was to forget their misdeeds from that day when she saw them vulnerable and relaxed in their bed.

Liam looked peaceful.

Vulnerable even.

The lines she was so used to seeing stretch across his forehead were smooth, barely noticeable. His mouth was slightly open, but he wasn’t snoring, something he’d never done, and she was grateful for. His eyelashes had always been unusually long for a man, but not too long to be unbecoming. Strands of dark brown hair laid across his forehead, the rest of it swept back due to his supine position.

A small smile pulled at Maddie’s mouth. Memories pushed their way into her thoughts, against her will. Hands clutching, mouths touching, soft gasps, clothes on the floor, a long, contented sight and then a loud crash as the boards that held the bed up at their first apartment broke and sent the bed, and them, crashing down. They’d laid there, the bed at an angle, their heads down, their feet up, startled expressions on their faces, their naked bodies intertwined. Then they’d burst into laughter and held each other, laughing even as they dragged themselves from the wreckage of the bed.

“The couch doesn’t have wooden slats,” he’d said, eyes flashing with a mischievous glint.

He grinned.

She smiled.

He’d taken her hand and they’d rushed to the room that served both as a kitchen and a living room and resumed their undressed rendezvous.

He sure knew how to touch her back then. How to caress her, where to kiss her, how to hold her and just what to say to make her feel safe and loved. That first year of marriage. It all seemed like a lifetime ago. She touched her fingers to her throat, realizing her heart was pounding fast and she’d flushed warm at the memories. Her gaze drifted over his form on the bed, his strong shoulders, long legs, perfectly shaped mouth. She couldn’t deny he still did something to her insides; that he still lit a fire of passion within her that made her head feel a little funny, her stomach flip flop.

Her eyelids were even heavier now. She yawned, walking back to the couch for a much-needed nap and maybe later a Cary Grant movie and a cup of hot chocolate.