Books are a uniquely portable magic. ~ Stephen King

Friday, June 4, 2010

Marnie's Rung

Fiction Fridays

This is the next chapter of the novel (or project, as I continue to insist on calling it) that I wrote for NaNoWriMo. It's sat dormant long enough - time for me to take another look at it - and to give you a peek at it as well.

In case you missed something:

Chapter 1: Josh's Table
Chapter 2: The Vista
Chapter 3: Transition

Chapter 4: Brunch
Chapter 5: Ted's Farm
Chapter 6: Helmet Reflections
Chapter 7: The Real World
Chapter 8: Hooligan's

Chapter 9.
Joan

Cal called both Monday and Tuesday and they talked for lost hours. They talked the way people do when they’re getting to know someone new. Someone they think is delicious. Someone they want to soak up like a sponge. They talked about everything and nothing and they hated to hang up, although Marnie refused to engage in the ‘you hang up first’ game. Cal talked about his kids and his job search and growing up on the farm. He talked about losing his parents. He talked about how he met Josh and Andy. Marnie loved his voice. He could’ve read the phone book and she would’ve listened. She loved his stories. He talked about his dog, Riff, and the dog he had growing up. And when he asked about Marnie, he listened to her answers.

For her part, Marnie talked about her sisters and her parents. She talked about college and how she’d grown apart from most of her friends but still stayed in touch with a couple. She talked about how she met Josh. They agreed that they owed Josh a thank you – without their connection to him, they never would have met. They talked about how weird that was, because he was so unlike both of them. She talked about her job. She talked about her grandmother.

Cal was an open book. Marnie was more guarded. It wasn’t that she had secrets to keep – although who doesn’t? – it was just that she wasn’t sure how he’d react to stories about her privileged upbringing. She didn’t want to blow this before it had a chance. No one was more surprised than Marnie, therefore, when she heard herself say, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Ted and Susie are spending it with Susie’s family, so I figured I’d just hang out at home and watch football.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Join you?”

“My mom always sets out a huge spread. Believe me – there’s room for one more.”

“I don’t know…”

“No imposition! I’d love to have you there. I mean – I understand if you don’t want to…”

“No, I want to.”

“My family can be a little – I don’t know…”

“All families are like that.”

“Not yours.”

“Not Ted and Susie. You haven’t met anyone else.”

“Fair enough. Well, if you’re sure you’re up for it…”

“I’d love to meet the family that made you who you are.”

“I’m – I’m not my family, Cal. Remember that, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Alright. Let me call Mom and tell her to set another place.”

“You want me to pick you up to go to Josh’s tomorrow night?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

There was a full contingency at Josh’s when they arrived Wednesday evening. Sonya was hovering over Josh possessively and it was pretty clear that Josh was not digging this. Andy stood up and came to meet them at the door. He had been talking to Cal over the past couple days, and he enveloped the two of them in a bear hug. It felt like a stamp of approval.

Joan was already at the table, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. She looked a little out of it. Between drinks and drags, she rested her head on her arms on the table. “How long has she been here?” Marnie asked, concern creeping into her voice and her face.

“She was like that when she got here. We’re not sure what’s up.” Andy answered. He looked a little concerned, too. “Hey Joan!” She didn’t respond. “Joanie!” he tried, much louder. She lifted her head in slow motion and looked at Andy with one open eye.”

“This isn’t good.” Marnie stated, her brow furrowing, “I don’t like this.”

“Joanie, sweetheart, you okay?” Andy asked, sitting next to her and putting his arm around her. She waved him away.

“She just needs a little pick-me-up.” Sonya said. “Get some toot in this woman, stat!” She said to Josh.

Josh cut out a few lines and offered the mirror to Joan first. She raised her head and took a snort, then another. She smiled at Josh; “Thank you, baby.” She patted his hand, and put her head back on the table.

Marnie and Cal exchanged a worried glance, then took a seat at the table with Mike, Kristen, and a young girl they’d never met. She was introduced as Kristen’s roommate, Jen. The mirror made it’s way to them. Marnie inhaled, tilted her head back and shut her eyes. She opened them when she heard Cal’s familiar tap, tap, tap.

When the mirror made its way to Joan again, she didn’t sit up. “We should just put her in a bed – or on the sofa.” Sonya said with an air of authority and ownership that clearly didn’t sit well with Josh.

“She can’t crash here, idiot, her husband is a cop. You’ve got to think sometimes, Sonya.”

“Fuck you.” She said, quietly. The insult had stung. She knew he was annoyed with her and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. She’d crashed here for the past three nights and had made his meals and done his dishes. She’d even brought a toothbrush and some clothes over so she didn’t have to run home so much. And the sex was amazing. So why was he treating her like she had no right to be here? Dick. Ungrateful dick.

Andy approached Joan again. Her cigarette had burned to a stub in her hand. Andy removed it and snuffed it out in the ash tray. “Joan? Joanie? JOAN?” Andy looked up, panicked, “You guys? I don’t think she’s ok. I think we need to get her to a hospital.”

Josh went to the table to assess the situation for himself. He sat next to Joan and said very quietly and patiently, “Joanie? What did you do? Talk to me here. Let me know what I’m talking to.” Kristen started to remind him that he was talking to a who not a what, but when Joanie did not respond she wisely realized that perhaps semantic arguments were best left for another day.

“Oh, shit.” Said Josh, rising and pacing the room manically, “Shit shit shit. This can’t be happening. JOAN, DAMMIT, DON’T DO THIS TO ME!!!” He covered his face with his hands. Sonya put her arm around him and he threw her off. “You don’t get it, do you? Her husband is a fucking cop! We’re fucking dead meat!”

Sonya sulked in the next room. She knew he was right, but he didn’t have to be so fucking mean about it. It’s not like any of this was her fault.

Marnie went over to where Andy was attempting to tend to Joan. She was completely unresponsive. Marnie searched for a pulse but couldn’t find one, which wasn’t terribly unusual because she could rarely if ever find her own, either. Still. Joan wasn’t right. Her skin felt cold and clammy. “For real, Josh, we’ve got to call a squad. She’s gonna die here without some help. I’m calling.” She picked up her purse and dug in it for her cell.

“Think about this!” Josh screamed. “If we have a squad come here we’re all fucking accomplices to whatever fuck…her husband is a fucking cop…” he repeated, collapsing into a chair with his head in his hands.

“How about if I just take her to the hospital and drop her off, then?” Andy suggested. “Cal and Marnie can ride with me. We’ll just drop her off without ID. They’ll take care of her.”

Josh agreed. Cal and Andy picked Joan up, no small feat as she was completely dead weight. They carried her to Andy’s truck and laid her across the back seat. Marnie sat at her feet and Cal jumped in the front with Andy. Marnie stroked Joan’s hair and whispered reassurances that it was all going to be ok. Everything was going to be ok. She was quite cognizant of the fact that this was more for her benefit than for Joan’s. She just needed to feel like she was doing something. The ride to the only hospital in town seemed endless. Andy stayed within the speed limit and stopped at every stop sign. No way was he going to risk being pulled over tonight, with the passed out, overdosed, half dead wife of a police officer in his back seat. No one had much to say. When they pulled into the Emergency Room entrance, Andy ran in and quickly grabbed a wheelchair. He pushed it back to the truck where Cal and Marnie had been working to pull an unresponsive Joan out of the backseat. They managed to get her slumped into the wheelchair. Cal pushed the wheelchair to the entrance and left her there, just inside the automatic doors, while Andy pulled the truck up to the door so Cal could jump in quickly.

When they were a few blocks away from the hospital, Marnie started to sob. She was sitting in the front between Andy and Cal now. She had been strong when she needed to be, but she didn’t need to be anymore. She succumbed to the feeling of helplessness and fear that had been building up. What if things didn’t work out ok? What if Joan… she couldn’t even complete the thought in her head, it was too much. It was all too much. Cal put his arm around her and pulled her head into his chest. Joan was their friend, and they had just dumped her and hoped for the best. It wasn’t right. “I need to call her husband.” She said. She started rooting through Joan’s purse for a cell phone. They had agreed not to leave her purse with her at the hospital – let them treat her like a Jane Doe. Marnie couldn’t remember now why they’d decided to do that. It had seemed like a sound idea at the time.

Cal took the purse from her. “They’ll figure it all out, honey, don’t worry.”

“He’s her HUSBAND! He deserves to know!”

“He’s a COP! It will be our asses!”

“I’m sorry. I have to do it.” She retrieved the purse from Cal and he didn’t resist her. She found the cell phone and looked through Joan’s contacts until she found the name she was looking for. Jerry. Joan occasionally talked about Jerry. Officer Jerry Ormond. She hit send.

“Hey, honey! What’s up?”

“Officer Ormond, this isn’t Joan. This is a friend of hers.”

Jerry’s voice changed in an instant. “Where’s Joan? Who are you?”

“I’m a friend. Joan was – we just dropped Joan off at the ER without ID. You need to get down there and ask about Jane Does.”

“What the hell happened? Who are you?”

“Jerry? Officer Ormond? She’s been doing drugs. Coke that we know of, but we suspect something else. We don’t know what, or we’d tell you, I swear. We think she overdosed. We took her to the hospital – we wanted her to be taken care of.”

“No – you’re lying…” She could hear the desperation in Jerry’s voice. He didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m not, Jerry, Officer Ormond. I’ve told you all I know. I thought I’d call you and let you know so you could get down there and identify her before they went to the trouble and expense of trying to figure out who she is. I’m very sorry, sir. But you better get to your wife.” Marnie clicked the phone shut and put her head in her hands. Cal rubbed her shoulders.

“You did the right thing, babe. He had a right to know.”

“What a fuckin’ mess.” Andy added. The ride back to Josh’s went a lot more quickly. The room became silent when the three of them walked in. If the expression on every face could be summed up in one word, that word would be: WELL?

They relayed the story together, interrupting each other to clarify points. They all agreed that they’d done the right thing. The mirror made its way around the table a few more times, but the party never really built up any momentum. It’s difficult to feel festive when a cops wife has just OD’d in the house and you’ve dumped her, unidentified, at the ER. They were all in it together. A big, ugly secret hung over them like the sword of Damocles. Everyone took off as soon as the last of the coke had been passed around, eager to be away from it. Sonya clung to Josh. He allowed it.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

If You Dream of Fairies

If You Dream of Fairies is a story I wrote for my daughters and niece last summer. I will present it here in serialized form. It was my first foray into fiction.

In case you missed something:
If You Dream of Fairies - I
If You Dream of Fairies - II
If You Dream of Fairies - III
If You Dream of Fairies - IV
If You Dream of Fairies - V
If You Dream of Fairies - VI
If You Dream of Fairies - VII
If You Dream of Fairies - VIII
If You Dream of Fairies - IX
If You Dream of Fairies - X
If You Dream of Fairies - XI
If You Dream of Fairies - XII
If You Dream of Fairies - XIII
If You Dream of Fairies - XIV
If You Dream of Fairies - XV

That night Liz dreamed of fairies. But this time, the dream was different. A little fairy flew up to her, circling her head just as the fairy had done in the garden that summer. But this time the wee creature landed on the ground and began to grow. She grew until she was about a head shorter than Liz. Liz’s eyes grew wide as the fairy smiled at her. She hadn’t thought it possible for a smile to be more beautiful than Maria’s, but this fairy’s was. This smile was pure beauty and love. It enveloped Liz with a sense of warmth and well-being. Liz had never really been unhappy in her life, but this was different than not being unhappy. This was pure unbridled contentment. It was more than that. This was bliss.

The fairy put her hand on Liz’s shoulder and spoke. Her voice was as sweet as the bird’s first song in the morning.

“Dear, sweet Liz,” she began, “I’ve tried to talk to you so many times.”

“Why…?” Liz couldn’t complete the sentence or even the thought.

“I was too small. You couldn’t hear me. I had to think of a way. I think this will work.”

Liz nodded her agreement.

“We’ve watched over you and Maria since you were wee babes. We used to flutter over you all the time, we loved you so much. Your soft baby skin reminded us of the flowers. You were such sweet, lovely babes. I think some fairy dust inadvertently fell on Maria the first time she was brought to the garden. We don’t have as much control over where it lands as we might like.

Once a person has been touched by fairy dust, there’s no taking it back. That person is charmed.

Some of us wanted to sprinkle some on you, too. Some thought it would be fun to watch a charmed child grow up next to an untouched human child. Do you understand?”

Liz nodded again, unable to find words.

“But when you discovered our door, we decided it was fated. We needed to charm you as well.

Babies are charmed instantly and completely, but older people require a little more effort. When mommas bathe their little ones, the fairy dust sort of just gets rubbed in. When you jumped in the shower you washed a lot of it off. You’ll probably never have to clean that bath tub again, by the way.”

“So that’s why I got a raise in my allowance.”

“Yes.”

“Charmed indeed.”

“Indeed.” The fairy and the girl exchanged familiar, comfortable grins.

“We tried to sprinkle the dust without you noticing, but you were so attuned with us. We couldn’t sneak anything past you, sweet, smart, observant child.”

“Keebler helped.”

The fairy bestowed a smile on Liz that was somehow even sweeter than the original smile had been.

“You’re charmed now. You’ll probably not see us again. You may even forget about us altogether.”

Liz shook her head vigorously in the negative.

“No, sweet Liz, the time for fairies is drawing to a close. It’s as it should be.”

A single perfect tear made its way down Liz’s cheek.

“Don’t cry, dear one,” the fairy said, gently touching the tear and making it disappear. “Everything is as it should be.”

She shrunk back down to fairy size and flew away.

Monday, May 31, 2010

The Worse Half

My family always camped over Memorial Day weekend. We had a multi-generational group that we went with - some of whom I would see frequently, some only once or twice a year. It was the official kick-off of the summer camping season. It was a trip I always looked forward to and enjoyed. We went to a State Park where there were many hiking trails of various lengths and of various levels of difficulty. There were campfires and stories and mountain pies. And for three years, there was Jeff.

Jeff was my boyfriend and eventually my fiance in college. When Memorial Day rolled around during those years, he joined my family for this trip.

I remember one of those trips - he and I had gone off to hike one of the longer trails on our own. We hadn't anticipated how long it would take us and dusk started to fall while we were still in the middle of the woods. I panicked a little, but he assured me that we'd be fine. I didn't believe him. I didn't feel fine. When we broke out of the woods and into the little picnic area with a stream that led to the campground, my sense of relief was practically palpable. He was clearly relieved as well, despite the confidence he'd expressed while we were still in the woods. He became playful at that point and sort of pushed me into the stream. Now we were back in civilization, such as it was, but we still had a half mile or so to walk back to the camper. Having to do so soaked to the skin, after my perceived ordeal in the woods, left me none too pleasant.

He didn't understand. He was just trying to play. That was what was the matter with me, I was told, I always took things too damn seriously. I mentally added it to the litany of things that we had already established were the matter with me. I tried to initiate play in the stream several times over the rest of the weekend, but it was too little too late.

Jeff broke things off for good just a couple weeks short of graduation, leaving me heartbroken, insecure, and unsure of where the future might lead. My parents convinced me that joining them for this traditional camping trip would be fun - that it would help me get my mind off of things. I didn't see how taking the same trip without him that I'd taken with him for the past three years was going to get my mind off of things, but I was feeling so raw and vulnerable that I agreed. It would be better to be around people than to sit home alone. It would be good to be around laughter. It would be good.

We pulled into the campground and, as we disembarked from the camper we were greeted by one of those people I only saw once a year. He said hello to me, then looked over my shoulder grinning while asking, "Where's your better half?"

Fuck.

My parents hadn't told anyone.

I ran off crying to the bathhouse with all the drama of a young fiance freshly abandoned. Our poor family friend stood at the camper; left to wonder how such a simple friendly greeting could have caused such an extreme reaction. Chicks, man. I sat on the cold concrete and sobbed to the daddy long legs, "Not only am I not whole without him - I'm not even the good part."

More than twenty-five years later - happily married to Tom and with two girls who are my world - I see this all from a different perspective. But I try to keep those feelings accessible as I talk to my beautiful daughters about remaining a whole on their own; even when the temptation to immerse themselves in the pleasures of being a half is strong. Being half of a couple is wonderful. Being a quarter of a family is pretty swell, too. But there is nothing more important than being a whole you.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Marnie's Rung

Fiction Fridays

This is the next chapter of the novel (or project, as I continue to insist on calling it) that I wrote for NaNoWriMo. It's sat dormant long enough - time for me to take another look at it - and to give you a peek at it as well.

In case you missed something:

Chapter 1: Josh's Table
Chapter 2: The Vista
Chapter 3: Transition

Chapter 4: Brunch
Chapter 5: Ted's Farm
Chapter 6: Helmet Reflections
Chapter 7: The Real World

Chapter 8.
Hooligan’s

The four women had just been seated and their drinks had arrived at the table, courtesy of a slightly overenthusiastic waiter. Vodka martini’s all around.

“Cheers!”

“First of the day!”

“Marnie?” came a man’s voice from a couple tables away, “I thought that was you!”

Josh. What were the odds. She watched the eyebrows of all three of her companions rise in unison. Well, except Brittany’s. She couldn’t see Brittany’s eyebrows with all that hair covering her pretty face. But they were rising, all right. She could feel them.

Marnie half rose and gave Josh a hug. “Josh? This is my mom, my sister Corrine and my sister Brittany. This is Josh.”

The three women acknowledged him and he looked them over. “I just wanted to say hi. See you Wednesday, Marn?”

“Probably. I’ll let you know.”

“Ok. Nice meeting you. See ya!”

“Is that your young gentleman?” Corrine asked.

“He is rather devastatingly handsome”, Brittany added, leaning over a bit to watch him walk away.

“If you like that type...” Corrine threw in. The way her lips pursed implied that she did not, but the way she followed Brittany’s gaze said something else entirely.

Marnie laughed. “Josh? No, God. No. Josh is just a friend of mine. Josh is… a bunch of us hang out. Josh? Just, no.”

“You just have a whole” – her mother made a circular gesture with both hands – “thing going on, don’t you?”

“If you’re implying that you don’t know every detail of my life, you’re right. I highly doubt I know every detail of yours, either. Cheers!” she added, lifting her glass and trying to change the course of the conversation. She had never really meant for those two worlds to collide. Who could’ve guessed Josh would be having a beer at the very same place she had asked her family to meet her for lunch. Well, on the upside, maybe the topic of Cal would be an easier transition. She wondered if Josh was holding. A little toot might make this conversation easier, too. She didn’t risk asking. If her mom and sisters saw an exchange being made, she’d never hear the end of it. And they’d see. They didn’t miss a thing. Her martini would have to do. She took a swig, squared her shoulders, and relayed the events of the last couple days. She left out the part about starting at Josh’s and said she just ran into Cal at The Vista.

Something crossed her mother’s face as she waxed rhapsodic about the farm. Was it regret? Was it nostalgia? Marnie wasn’t sure, but she knew she’d somehow struck a chord.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

If You Dream of Fairies

If You Dream of Fairies is a story I wrote for my daughters and niece last summer. I will present it here in serialized form. It was my first foray into fiction.

In case you missed something:
If You Dream of Fairies - I
If You Dream of Fairies - II
If You Dream of Fairies - III
If You Dream of Fairies - IV
If You Dream of Fairies - V
If You Dream of Fairies - VI
If You Dream of Fairies - VII
If You Dream of Fairies - VIII
If You Dream of Fairies - IX
If You Dream of Fairies - X
If You Dream of Fairies - XI
If You Dream of Fairies - XII
If You Dream of Fairies - XIII
If You Dream of Fairies - XIV

Liz and Maria spent time together the rest of the summer; reading, playing and dreaming in the garden. They never spoke about the fairies, although each glanced furtively at the fairy door from time to time, particularly when Keebler drew their attention to it.

When the time came to go back to school, they did it as they did everything: together.

Liz got a little more attention than she was used to, having grown up in Maria’s shadow. People kept telling her she was beautiful, which she thought was, quite frankly, really weird. She hadn’t had much practice with accepting compliments. Girls kept asking what she did to make her hair so shiny. She figured no one would be calling her Frizzy Lizzie (when Maria wasn’t around, of course) anymore. Boys were looking at her then looking away when she caught them. She’d seen boys look at Maria that way before and it had always made her roll her eyes. Maria always denied it. Now that it was happening to her, she found it oddly flattering.

Her mother kept telling her she was “growing into herself”.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One afternoon shortly after school started the girls were doing their homework at the table in the garden. Maria looked up and said, “I think Justin Maples likes me.”

“Everyone likes you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I might like him, too.”

Liz put her book down, never losing eye contact with Maria. “For real?”

“For real.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Wait. See. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s dumb.”

“He’s cute, though.”

“Way cute!” Maria said, dissolving into a fit of self conscious giggles.

They hugged, squealed, and attempted to return to their homework.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Marnie's Rung

Fiction Fridays

This is the next chapter of the novel (or project, as I continue to insist on calling it) that I wrote for NaNoWriMo. It's sat dormant long enough - time for me to take another look at it - and to give you a peek at it as well.

In case you missed something:

Chapter 1: Josh's Table
Chapter 2: The Vista
Chapter 3: Transition

Chapter 4: Brunch
Chapter 5: Ted's Farm
Chapter 6: Helmet Reflections


Chapter 7.
The Real World

Marnie felt as though she was floating, as she hung up her jacket and scarf and made herself a cup of herbal tea. She checked her messages for the first time all day. It was funny how it hadn’t even occurred to her before now. Twenty-one messages appeared on her cell, almost all of them from her mother and her sisters. Nosy bitches would have to wait. She wanted to have tonight to just drink it all in.

In the moments between lying down and falling asleep, Marnie’s thoughts alternated between “this is crazy stupid” and “this is crazy awesome”. The only thing she was sure of when she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep was that this was crazy.

The next day, Marnie had a predictably hard time concentrating. She sat at her desk, she answered her calls, she looked out her window and she thought. She thought things like: “looks like a nice day for a ride…” and, “I wonder what Cal’s doing right now….” and, “that was one helluva kiss…” and, of course, that thought led to others and not a lot of work was getting done. She decided to go ahead and return her mother and her sisters’ calls. She knew what they wanted to talk about and – hell – it was all she wanted to talk about, too.

As she picked up her phone, an IM came through on her computer from Corri. Corrine’s screen name was Enirroc1997. Someone had told her that using your real name online was dangerous, so she had simply spelled hers backwards and added the year she and Alan had gotten married. Marnie wasn’t sure what amused her more – the paranoia that had led to Corrine using an alias or the fact that Corrine actually thought that spelling her name backwards was clever. Ah, why did one have to amuse her more than the other? Both reasons were funny as hell.

Enirroc1997: Hey Marnie – you there?

MarnieH: Morning!

Enirroc1997: Morning? Where the hell have you been? You didn’t answer any of our calls. And you ran out on brunch mighty fast.

MarnieH: you were WORRIED?

Enirroc1997: Well, yes! As a matter of fact we were! I am!

Another chat window opened.

Britwit: MARNIE!!! WTH???

MarnieH: Hey Brit – I’m chatting with Enirroc , too – let me invite you in.

Britwit: enirroc. snort…

MarnieH. You here Brit?

Britwit: yep. u here, enirroc?

Enirroc1997: I will never know why you two find it so funny that I want to keep my family and myself safe from online predators…

Enirroc1997: Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me.

Britwit: tru dat! u have a lot of splainin to do, miss marnie!

MarnieH: since when do I answer to you guys?

Enirroc1997: Since you ran out of brunch and left us with Mom and all of her questions – questions for which we had no answers, I feel compelled to add.

Who IM’s words like “compelled” and phrases like, “questions for which we had no answers”? Oh yeah. Corrine.

MarnieH: No big. A friend asked me to take a ride on his bike out to his brother’s farm.

Britwit: a friend?????

MarnieH: yep

Enirroc1997: A GENTLEMAN friend?

Britwit: a bike?

MarnieH: My friend is a guy, yes.

MarnieH: we rode out, yes.

Britwit: the guy ur bringing to thnx dinner?

MarnieH: I don’t know about that. It’s just – it’s not…shit, you guys – I don’t know what it is.

Enirroc1997: Watch your language, Marnie, the FCC might come after you.

MarnieH: I assure you that the FCC is not monitoring our conversation and neither is anyone else.

Enirroc1997: It must be nice to be so sure of everything.

Britwit: where is that eye-rolling emoticon when I need it?

MarnieH: 

MarnieH: Anyway, he’s very nice and we’re just hanging out.

Britwit: cute?

MarnieH: Devastatingly.

Enirroc1997: Money?

MarnieH: God, Corri – why do you have to be so superficial?

Enirroc1997: Oh, I apologize. Discussing his devastating good looks is deep but inquiring about his means of supporting himself financially is superficial. I’ll make a note of that.

Britwit: corri, u r 2 much.

MarnieH: I better call Mom, if she was actually worried.

Enirroc1997: Telling her you rode to the middle of nowhere on the back of a veritable stranger’s motorcycle should be very reassuring.

Britwit: srsly, corri, how do u even TYPE all that?

Enirroc1997: “Srsly”, Brittany, it doesn’t take that much extra effort to use actual words.

Britwit: wutev

MarnieH: yeah! And sit up straight! And I don’t know why you wear that hair over your eyes like that – you have such a pretty face!

Britwit: lol

Enirroc1997: You really would look prettier with your hair off your face, Brit.

Britwit: roflmao

Enirroc1997: “Wutev”.

Enirroc1997: So, seriously, Marnie – what does he do?

MarnieH: I need to call Mom – you guys free for lunch?

Britwit: i m

Enirroc1997: I suppose I could tear myself free.

Marnie: Hooligan’s at noon?

Enirroc1997: That seems appropriate.

Britwit: ur a hoot enirroc!

Enirroc1997: “Wutev”

MarnieH: Ok, see you both then. Should I invite Mom?

Enirroc1997: I suppose that would save time. She’d just be pumping Brit and I for information anyway – may as well let her hear it from the horse’s mouth.

Britwit: lol ur a horse!

Enirroc1995: lol ur an idiot!

MarnieH: Alright! Noon then! Should be fun!

She exited the chat and dialed their parent’s home.

“Hammond residence”

“Lupe? It’s Marnie.”

“Miss Marnie! Thank God you’re ok – Mrs. Hammond has been so worried!”

“Can I talk to my mom?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll get her!”

“Marnie?”

“Hey Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘hey Mom’ me, young lady! Your sisters and I tried to call you all day yesterday. Where have you been?”

“Mom? You do know I’m almost 30, right?”

“Darling, you’re still my child”

“I’m sorry I worried you – hey – I’m meeting Corri and Brit for lunch – want to join us?”

“That sounds like fun, actually. I suppose Lupe can hold down the fort. Where and when? I assume you’ll be explaining what was so important that you had to run out on brunch so abruptly.”

“Hooligan’s. Noon.”

Marnie heard her mother sigh.

“I’ll be there.”

“See you then.”

Marnie tried to return to work, but returned to looking out the window instead. She remembered the smell of the hay in the barn and the feel of the sheep’s wooly coat. She thought about Cal’s hands as he pulled her up – how strong and confident he was. She thought about that kiss – how he had kissed her lips, but she had somehow felt it in her whole body. She thought about what it would be like to touch his skin – to feel him…whoa there! Slow down! This was no way to get any work done. What the hell was this? It’s not like she’d never kissed a boy before…

She returned to her computer and stared at the screen. It didn’t make sense. Now kissing Cal – that made sense. That was the sort of idea she could get behind. Not much money in it, though. And heaven knows he wasn’t bringing any in. Was Corrine right? Did that matter? It had mattered to her mother. She left her farm life in a heartbeat when her father came along with promises of a better life. Marnie loved her father, but as far as a better life? She wasn’t so sure her mother had traded up. She’d never seen her parents act as naturally loving as Ted and Susie had acted yesterday on the farm. She imagined her dad casually patting her mom on the bottom as he helped with kitchen chores and shuddered. She couldn’t even work up the visual. Her parents lived in a different world.

It had mattered to her sister. Corrine had chosen her mate carefully, based on potential. Alan came from money. There was a position waiting for him when he got out of school. Money and the right names open a lot of doors. Corrine knew this was the lifestyle she wanted and she wasn’t about to settle for less. Alan had been her first real boyfriend and her only lover. If you could call it love. Alan was always more of a provider than a lover, although there were girls all over town who might disagree with that assessment.

Marnie sighed. She’d known money all her life. She was privileged and she knew it. She had no business feeling superior to Corrine, because she had allowed money to open doors, too. She took that for granted – and why not? It had just always been so. Would her grades alone have gotten her into the school she chose? Maybe. Would she have been able to afford school at all if Daddy hadn’t footed the bill? Probably not. She would have been waiting tables or pursuing a trade. Would she have gotten this job in this office if her last name hadn’t been Hammond? Possible, but unlikely.

Yes, money helped. Money paid for that beautiful condo on the hill and the never ending maintenance on the Shelby in the garage. Money provided the always up to date and stylish wardrobe she was accustomed to sporting. Was this going to offend someone like Cal? When he first picked her up, she saw a glimmer of – what? – something – when he saw her living conditions. She didn’t imagine they were easily comparable to his own. Was she ready or even willing to compromise on that? And what the hell was she doing here, anyway? They’d had one date – sort of – and one kiss. She reminded herself to keep it in perspective. She had never even seen where he lived. He might live in a mansion, for God’s sake, and just be slumming at Josh’s for kicks! On the other, more likely hand, he might not. Besides – this was a lot of conjecture based on one stupid kiss (there was nothing stupid about that kiss).

Ok. Work, Marnie. Get something accomplished, here. You’re acting like a school girl. A cute boy kissed you. How nice. Get over it! It’s Monday! Work!

Marnie didn’t listen to herself. She looked out the window and tapped a pen against her desk. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Her cell rang. Cal.

“I was just thinking about you!” Marnie said, her smile splitting her face and her fingers absentmindedly twirling her hair.



A brief note about this chapter: Anyone who has ever attempted to text with me, knows that my texting style most closely resembles that of Corrine. I am not proud of this. Needless to say, I don't text much. I enlisted the help of my thirteen year old daughter to try to make Marnie and Brittany's styles more organic to their characters. Some of the changes she made made me cringe, but I think they were ultimately good. It was so much fun working with my kiddo! Thanks, Lea!



Wednesday, May 19, 2010

If You Dream of Fairies

If You Dream of Fairies is a story I wrote for my daughters and niece last summer. I will present it here in serialized form. It was my first foray into fiction.

In case you missed something:
If You Dream of Fairies - I
If You Dream of Fairies - II
If You Dream of Fairies - III
If You Dream of Fairies - IV
If You Dream of Fairies - V
If You Dream of Fairies - VI
If You Dream of Fairies - VII
If You Dream of Fairies - VIII
If You Dream of Fairies - IX
If You Dream of Fairies - X
If You Dream of Fairies - XI
If You Dream of Fairies - XII
If You Dream of Fairies - XIII

When Maria came back, Liz was beaming. “I want to show you something.” she said, barely able to contain her excitement.

She opened her book to reveal the sunflower petals. They had only been in the book an hour or so, so their natural tendency to curl remained. They were still fairly soft and supple.

“What do you think?”

“Well, I think they’re very pretty.” Maria answered, tentatively touching one of the soft yellow petals, “Where did you get them? We don’t have any flowers that color, do we?”

“They’re sunflower petals.”

“Oh! Cool! Sunflowers! Like you!” Maria touched one of the petals again, contemplatively, “But where did you get them?”

“The fairies left them for me.”

“Come on, Liz…”

“I fell asleep with Keebs and when he woke me up, there was another envelope by the tree.”

“Where’s the envelope?”

“Both times the envelope sort of – disappeared – in a puff of dust. Fairy dust.”

“Lizzie, I worry about you sometimes.”

“How can you not believe me? What other explanation could there be for my petals?”

“I’m not really sure, but I’m pretty sure the actual explanation does not include fairy dust.”

Disheartened, Liz returned to her house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night she dreamed again of fairies.

She woke before dawn, hoping to catch sight of them again without the danger of Keebler barking. Once more she tiptoed down the stairs and out into the dew laden grass. She crossed the lawn as quietly as she could and lowered herself to her hands and knees when she reached the garden’s edge. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, she was nearly overcome with wonder. She gasped a tiny gasp that she hoped was soundless as she observed the fairies – there seemed to be hundreds of them, but she knew that couldn’t be so. They were talking and flying and laughing together as they sprinkled fairy dust liberally around the garden.

Liz clasped her hands in delight. So no one believed her? So what? She had this moment. This was hers. What did it matter that there was no one with whom to share it? She knew she would cherish this moment forever – quietly – in her heart.

At that very moment, one of the fairies noticed her. But instead of retreating into the tree, the wee winged being flew over to her and circled her head, tossing fairy dust into her hair. Liz laughed and rose to her feet, as gracefully as a ballerina. She twirled and laughed, the fairy meeting her twirl for twirl in a synchronous dance.

She closed her eyes and hugged herself. When she opened them, she was alone in the garden and the fairy door was closed. The garden was glistening and she alone knew its secret.

She smiled in her newfound knowledge and spun on her toes once before heading back into her house.