Better Scavengers [FICTION]

“I am so glad you all made it out for tonight’s activity. I know we advertised it as a couple’s activity, but that was so we could guarantee equal numbers for our teams. Tonight, it is the ladies versus the gents in a scavenger hunt.” Janine announced proudly.

Most of the men groaned. I rolled my eyes. My best friend grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed tightly.

“Each team will be given a copy of the list. The teams can decide how to approach it. Earl and I will be sitting out since we devised this hunt, but good luck to the rest of you. Separate into teams and let’s get started.” 

We quickly divided into groups. As the girls congregated on one side of the room, the men wandered off to the other like an awkward junior high dance. When we were appropriately distanced, Janine handed the girls copies of the list and Earl handed a couple to the guys. As our husbands leaned their heads together, the wives turned to our usual leader Rose. Her eyebrows tried to touch as she stared at the list.

“Looks like we each need to find five items to get this done as quickly as possible.” She began folding and tearing the paper until she had a slip of paper for each of us.

As she handed me the last slip, I scanned it quickly. The first four items were easy: a softball, a hard-boiled egg, a team t-shirt, and a magnet with a name on it. The fifth one had me looking up at our illustrious planners with suspicion. They couldn’t know that my mother had an autographed copy of Stephen King’s “Carrie” or that she guarded it more rigorously than the four carat anniversary band my father bought her for their fortieth wedding anniversary.

“Get going, girls. I want everyone back here as soon as possible.”

I raced off toward my house. Twenty minutes later, I had passed the first four items off to Rose who lived across the street from me and assured her I was off to find my last item. She nodded understanding as she mumbled something about hoping she could be as confident about finding her last item. I laughed at that and rushed to my car.

By car, my mother’s house is usually five minutes away. Somehow it took me only two minutes. I raced to the door, trying to regulate my breathing before my mom answered the door. I almost succeeded.

“Betty,” my mother smiled and enfolded me in a hug.

“Hi, mom.”

“What you brings you to see me? And breathless? Don’t you have that couples night thing at church tonight?”

“I do.” I nodded. “That is kind of why I am here.”

“Oh?” I saw all the worst case scenarios beginning to spin behind her eyes.

“No, mother. Nothing is wrong. We are doing a scavenger hunt…”

“Do you need knitting needles. You know I have tons of those.”

“No. I need you to trust me.”

Her eyes widened. “If you try to blindfold me…”

“No. We weren’t told to kidnap a parent. I need to borrow something I think you might be less willing to lend to me for the sake of a game.”

She read the inflection in my voice and her hand covered her heart. “Not “Carrie”?”

“Please, mom.”

“You know how long I had to stand in line to get his autograph.”

“I know, mom. No one but me will touch it.”

“No one but me will touch it. I guess they wanted you to kidnap a parent after all.” She stepped into the living room to grab the book and placed it inside a large ziplock bag. “Let’s go.”

When we walked into the room, I was the last wife to return. Molly’s husband hadn’t returned yet, so I let out a gasp of air I didn’t realize I had held. The ladies turned to me excitedly. As I stepped toward them with my mother’s hand gripping mine, the door opened behind me. 

“Carlo get over here.” The men cheered him on.

My mother and I sprinted to the table where Janine meticulously compared her master list to the items on the table. She even picked up my hard-boiled egg and cracked it. I bit my lip since I had rushed making it a little. I breathed a sigh of relief when she revealed a solid yolk.

“Good job.” She congratulated our team, as my mother held out the final item for her inspection. “You were only missing the horseshoe nail.”

All female eyes turned toward the men as Earl poured over their offerings. 

Rose piped up, voicing the question eating at us. “How are you gentlemen doing over there?”

Earl looked up at her with mock disapproval. “Shh. Don’t interrupt the judging.”

He picked up their hard-boiled egg and cracked it. Yolk and white splattered his shoes. He frowned in disapproval and shook his head. “With this mess and the fact that they are missing the book signed by the author, they are short tow items. How did the ladies do?”

“They can cook an egg but none of them had access to the stables, so they win by one.” Janine intoned dramatically.

“Oh come on. Who had a signed book?”

At the question, my mother hugged her plastic clad treasure closer to her chest.

“Oh. Betty ran to mommy.” One of the husbands teased.

My own husband looked down at his hands to try to hide the wry smile on his face. I shook my head at him. He grinned wider and offered a sly wink. My mother turned to me then and patted my arm. 

“Thank you for letting me tag along, dear. It is a good daughter who makes time for her mother.” She turned her most disapproving glare on the husband who had spoken. “Call me sometime.”

With her previous book clutched to her chest, she disappeared out the door. Janine watched the door close slowly behind her and then turned back toward the two groups.

“We forgot to tell you what the prize is, aside from knowing you have defeated your spouses at finding a random selection of items as quickly as possible. We managed to arrange for a small party for twelve at the Lizard Lounge.”

The women began jumping up and down excitedly because the Lizard Lounge is famous for its sundae bar with every imaginable topping and then some. The men looked down at the ground sadly because it is also known for its steak and fries platters. The women leaned in to discuss the best day to claim their reward.

“You realize she said party of twelve?” I whispered.

“Who should we take?” Rose grinned.

“That depends, do you think we can get baby-sitters for the kids?” Jane asked.

“My mother is always willing to watch her grandkids,” I replied.

The others giggled and joyfully reported that their mothers and mothers-in-law also wouldn’t mind a little more time snuggling their grandchildren.

“Bless the Nanas, Mimis, and Grandmas,” we all agreed.

Janine leaned in to whisper to our circle. “So who are you going to share your winnings with?”

“Our husbands and you and Earl, of course.” Rose replied as if there had been no question.

“Shall I tell them?” Janine asked.

“Oh, we’d like to do that.”

As we broke up our huddle, our husbands looked at us suspiciously. We sashayed over to them. I wrapped my arms around the neck of my own husband and leaned in to whisper to him.

“I’d like you to be my guest as I celebrate our big win.”

He grinned from ear to ear. A quick glance around our party revealed that everyone had received the good news.

“And now to see when all of the grandparents want a little extra grandchild time.” Rose intoned as we reclaimed our items (except the eggs) and headed for the door.

~~Hope you all have fun plans for the weekend. One last weekend of June to enjoy with your loved ones whether they be spouses or pets or favorite shows…or this blog. You all reread my posts all the time, right?~~

Happy Father’s Day [FICTION]

“I’d love to come over, but my dad just asked for the most complicated cake for Father’s Day.”

Addison sighs on her end of the phone. “Grace…”

“I know I promised, but this will take me all weekend.”

“What kind of cake is it?” 

Inspiration strikes. “Come on over and find out.”

I race into the kitchen, digging through my recipes for a couple of cakes, my favorite fudge brownies, two cheesecakes, and cherry pie. By the time Addison arrives, I have them carefully laid out on the counter. I also have a shopping list that could take me half a day to fill.

~

“Why do you have so many recipe cards out?” Addison looks suspiciously at my selections. “You said he told you what he wanted. Why are you still deciding?”


“Well, he couldn’t exactly decide. Then I saw some videos on social media…”

“Oh. You should never watch those.”

“I know, but now he doesn’t have to decide what type of cake he wants. He just has to find a dozen friends to help him eat the twenty-five pound monstrosity I am going to make.”

“Fine. Tell me about it.”

I describe three layers of delicious— cheesecake in a chocolate cake, cherry pie in a French vanilla cake, and caramel cheesecake in a rich fudge brownie.

“That is insane…”

“And will be insanely delicious…”

“You are going to get the daughter of the year award…”

“I always do.” We grin at each other since I am an only child.

“Think you can sneak me a piece for my dad?”

“Only if you help me with this.”

“We could use my kitchen,” Addison offers.

“Um, no.”

“Come on. You have to make up with Bianca sometime.”

“Nope.”

“He chose you.”

“Yeah, but she still tried to steal him from me.”

She nods and picks up my shopping list. ‘Well, then we better get to work on this so I can finally knock her off her pedestal as best daughter.”

~~

We spend the next two days working on the masterpiece. Each filling needs baked and cooled. Then carefully inserted into a cake and baked again. After more cooling, I realize I forgot to decide on a frosting to hold the layers together. We agree on a mix of fudge and white chocolate fudge frosting.

We apply the final layer and smooth it out. I step back to get a better look.

“I don’t think it is going to hold up…” Addison whispers.

“I was afraid of that, but I have these,” I whisper back as I open the cabinet where I hid blue baker’s boxes. “We are going to slice it and divvy it up. That way my dad will never know I paid you in cake.”

“And my father’s love?”

“I can only hope.” I smile at her.


“Want to come see Bianca’s face?”

“Nope. Take a picture. Today is about our dads. I will worry about your sister on Halloween.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Everyone knows she is a witch.”

~~

As my dad open the pastry box, his eyes widen. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah?” I grin at him.

“This is the best—everything I wanted…”

“So I am still your favorite?”

“Always.” He reached out with his free arm to pull me into a powerful half hug.

“I see you made plenty so I can share with the boys.” He eyes the pile of boxes.

“You know I wouldn’t let you down. Your annual Father’s Day poker tournament goes better with refreshments.”

“Yeah. Though I might not share with the guys trying to up the ante with this year’s tie.” He grins and dips a for into one of the layers of cake.

His eyes roll back in delight as the flavors explode on his tongue.

~~Yes, I realized it as I was typing. There is a deeper story here. I know. I should explore it and expand it. I need to find the time. I should pick my friend’s brain who has finished three novels in a year (among other projects I just learned of today), but I don’t want to stop her flow. Send me PM if you like Jane Austin and I will give you more information.~~

Feeling Crabby [FICTION]

Our first vacation in ten years! I finally talked my husband into taking me to the beach. He picked a resort known for its private beach and all inclusive meals. Of course, he only managed to find one day off, so we have two days to soak up some sun, dip our feet in salt water, and lounge on the sand. 

We arrived just in time for dinner on Friday. After a filling meal selected from the variety on the buffet, we went back to our private cabin to snuggle and promptly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I woke up the next morning with a need to step into some waves, but my husband talked me into a light breakfast first. I tried to make up for the previous evening’s debauchery by eating a bowl of oatmeal and a pear. My husband loaded up on bacon and eggs and even had Belgian waffles for breakfast dessert. Needless to say, he refused to cooperate when I asked him to accompany me to the private beach. I matched his relaxed pace as we returned to our room.

He plopped down in front of the television and grumbled to himself as he interpreted the card detailing the cable service. I disappeared into the bathroom and changed into the suit I purchased just for this trip. We might be a long way from France, but when I saw an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini, I couldn’t resist buying it.

Luckily for me, the moment my husband saw it, he couldn’t resist joining me at the beach. Of course, even my magical swimwear couldn’t make his stomach feel any less like a lead ball had taken up residence, so I lost him somewhere in the hallways. As I reached the beach, I stared at the sparkling golden sand in wonder. The wonder began to fade as the silence of my surroundings suddenly sank into my mind.

I looked up and down the beach. I saw chairs, blankets, and towels set up for many sunbathers but no other humans in sight. Instead, my eyes finally adjusted to the gleaming sand enough to realize much of the sand was actually golden crabs skittering sideways across the sand. As waves crashed on the shore, I realized that they populated the surf as well.

I stared at them, wondering where they had come from and where the other beach goers had gone. I heard a familiar whoop. I turned to see my husband running toward the surf without a stitch of clothing on.

“Roderick!” I exclaimed. 

Instead of responding, he continued running toward the ocean. As he reached the waterline, extra arms formed below and above his. The ones above turned into pinchers that snapped at the air as he shrunk down to be lost among the other golden crabs upon the shore. I rushed toward him, but couldn’t distinguish one crab from another. None of them seemed to like me. As dozens of pinchers turned toward me, snapping at the flesh of my ankles, I turned back toward the resort. I half expected to be hampered by a transformation of my own, but my legs carried me back to the concierge in record time.

He smiled pleasantly, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“My husband…” I gasped, “turned into a crab.”

“Oh. Did he eat the special crab waffles this morning?”

“Maybe?”

“Then he will be done with his transformative experience around noon and ready for lunch.”

“What?” I blinked at him, as if using Morse code to beg for a better answer.

“Just relax, ma’am. We have a few waffles left or you could make a visit to the spa.” He offered helpfully.

“I don’t know.” I turned back to the door.

“The spa treatments are free and your husband is completely safe.” He snapped his fingers and a bellhop came over to us. “The young lady needs a massage and some relaxing aromatherapy. Her husband opted for the crab waffles at breakfast.”

The bellhop nodded and gently took my arm. “Come with me. Stephanie is our best massage therapist and she just happens to be free.”

I followed him down the corridor to the spa, where a dark-haired woman took my hand and guided me to a room. After much debate, she convinced me that the massage would go better if I at least stripped down to my undergarments. She turned away to add something to a diffuser as I prepared myself and slipped under a large towel on the massage table.

Thirty minutes later, I agreed with the bellhop about Stephanie’s magic hands that I needed to make time for another massage during our stay. Of course, my completely relaxed muscles began to tense up again as I exited the spa and headed back toward my room. I didn’t think to check the time until I noticed the clock above the bed. 

“Almost noon.” I breathed a hopeful sigh and turned back around.

The concierge smiled and gave me a thumbs up as I hurried past him. Soon my footsteps brought me back to the beach, where my husband lazed happily in the sun on the chair I had dropped earlier. I raced across the sand to fall down next to him. 

“Roderick, I’m so glad you are yourself again.”

“And I am glad you came back.”

“Oh, how sweet.”

“Sweet and selfish.” When I looked at him quizzically, he explained with downcast eyes. “This towel doesn’t quite cover everything.”

“Oh?” I remembered watching his naked dash to the beach before he morphed into a crab.

He took my hand and drew me to his right side as he stood up, clutching the ends of the towel to keep them as close together as possible. “I’m glad you really intended to swim this morning or this would be even more embarrassing.”

“Good thing you weren’t the only one who got crabby today.” I offered as we fell into line with other guests with averted eye and makeshift modesty.

“Did you know they were magical waffles?” I leaned in to whisper as I kept pace.

“I didn’t think it meant they would transform me. I just thought it was a reference to how delicious they were.”

“And were they delicious?”

“So delicious.”

“So you are eating them again tomorrow?”

“I hope so. Will you join me?”

“Why not? I better pack us a bag to take to breakfast.”

He winked at me. “Good plan.”

~~~

Beware the magic waffles, my friends. And if you must eat them, don’t partake alone. Sadly, I am crabby without the help of magical waffles this morning. Summer is stressful for the mommas. Wish us well. Pray for us. And be kind….

Reigniting [FICTION]

I keep dreaming about him. We dated for a week in high school. We broke up because he found me too boring with my nose always buried in a book, and I couldn’t keep up with him and those long legs that loved cross-country. A couple of weeks later, my ex husband moved to town and I never thought of Theo again. 

Until this past week when he entered my dreams. I recognized him by his dark, piercing eyes because his dark curls had given way to baldness. I woke up the next morning laughing at the thought that he could change so much and still be so handsome. I tried looking him up on social media, like casual stalkers do these days. His profile picture featured a cartoon stick figure running fast. The rest of his page featured memes and comics, nothing personal, nothing to give a clue where life has taken him.

A couple of nights later, he enters my dreams again. The next morning, I search for his phone number. If he is on my mind this much, I should check on him. That logic gives me the courage to give him a call.

“Hello?” My stomach flutters as the deep timbre of his voice resonates from my phone.

“Hi. This is Jane…”

“Jane McIntyre? From high school?” His voice raises in excitement or am I imagining that?

“Yes.”

“Are you on the reunion committee?”

“No.”

“Good. They always try to enlist me to help since I am one of the few graduates who didn’t flee from this tiny town. What did you need then?”

“I just wanted to catch up…” I let the invitation hang between us, holding my breath hopefully.

“Then we should meet up. How about the pub on Elm? We could grab some lunch.”

I took a beat before agreeing to the suggestion. As the clock read eleven, I rushed to make myself presentable but not too presentable. I didn’t want Theo to think I had any expectations. After all, he might be married or a priest for all I could glean from my brief bouts of research. Despite my ministrations to my appearance, I arrive at the pub twenty minutes early. I sit at the bar and order a root beer float to calm my nerves. The bartender laughs but brings my drink to me quickly.

I am taking my third tentative sip when Theo enters the room. I recognize him immediately. He looks exactly as he has in my dreams with dark penetrating eyes and not a single hair upon his head. My heart stops as I take in his outfit. Suddenly, my casual button down and flared slacks seem inappropriate. His dark tuxedo marks him as out of place in this dimly lit pub. He fiddles with his bowtie as his eyes scan the room.

Then those eyes rest on me and he smiles. His long legs carry him swiftly toward me, as if he must resist the innate desire to run that got drilled into him in high school.

“Jane, it’s wonderful to see you. You look good.”

“And yet I feel underdressed,” I quip.

He looks down at his clothing in confusion for a moment before offering an embarrassed explanation. “I’m supposed to be getting married today, but you called, and I had to see you.”

“I had no idea.” I stammer. “We can catch up later…with your wife.”

“But she might not be my wife. I mean, I always wondered…”

His moment of silence makes me nervous, so I ask, “Wondered what?”

“What would have happened if I hadn’t been stupid. My friends said we weren’t the right fit, and I let them decide. That’s why I broke up with you. Then you married the weasel…er…Wesley.” 

I stare at him, stunned. When I finally find words, I ask. “You called Wesley…the weasel?”

“That’s what you got from what I just said.” The animation leaves his face and his lips turn downward.

“I got some other things, but I don’t know what to say about them. Did everyone call Wes a weasel?”

“Not everyone. Just all the guys from his gym class. He always tried to weasel his way out of gym, so he could go looking for you in the library.”

“No. He just needed help with his homework. I just happened to have library media at the same time he came in for tutoring.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes.

“If it bothered you so much, why didn’t you say something?”

“I already admitted I was stupid, do you have to rub it in?”

I gnaw my lower lip and survey his attire again. “I am not sure you have gotten smarter.”

Now he looks like he is about to burst into tears. He doesn’t speak just turns sad eyes on me imploringly.

“You are supposed to be getting married but you came to meet me. We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“And yet when I dream about you, you look like you do now.”

“Well, I have a picture of myself on my social media.” I bite my tongue, realizing my mistake and hoping he doesn’t.

“And you saw that I don’t? So you were looking at my page.”

I don’t answer.

“Why?” When I remain silent, he follows with another question. “Were you having the dreams, too.”

I feel the flush creeping up my neck to my face. I try to think of anything but the question to stop red from infusing my cheeks, but I fail. 

“I thought I just had cold feet.” Now he takes me hands. “Maybe it is something more.”

I am still fighting the urge to squeeze his hands and not let go when the door opens again. This time a loud bang turns all eyes toward the person entering. She glares in our general direction and I have no doubt who she is. I look from the woman in the flowing white dress to Theo with wide eyes. He turns his head to see what I am looking at.

“Mary,” he gasps, gripping my hands tighter.

“We need to talk.” She declares loudly as she swishes over to us. “I thought something was wrong, but I never expected to find you with another woman.”

“You don’t understand…”

She raises her hand, all but slapping him in the face with it to stop him from speaking. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I’m getting married today, Theo. Since you seem to have other plans, I am accepting your brother’s offer.”

“My brother? What?”

“We spent a lot of time planning this wedding while you got the track team ready for the meet. I thought I was just charmed by his hair, but now I am thinking it was the fact that he didn’t keep any secrets from me. He offered to marry me. I thought it was a joke, but maybe he knew about this.” She gestures at us, her blue eyes resting on our joined hands.

“Now wait a minute.” I protest, trying unsuccessfully to reclaim my hands. “We haven’t seen each other in fifteen years.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m not mad at you. I’m glad you lured him away before I made the mistake of marrying him.” She slips her engagement ring from her finger and hands it to Theo. “You better keep this. Hope it fits her finger…if she’ll have you.”

Mary lifts her skirt and twirls away from us. As she reaches the door, it opens again, revealing a younger version of Theo who does indeed still have a thick mat of dark curls falling into his eyes.

“Mary, did you find him?” His eyes look past her long enough to give Theo a quizzical look. 

Then his attention returns to her. She leans in to whisper something to him. He looks sympathetic and then ecstatic as she speaks. He offers her his elbow and holds the door open as they leave together.

“I guess that should relieve some of my guilt,” Theo says though he looks like he is battling indigestion.

“This is too much for me.” I say at last. “Maybe we can try to catch up in a couple of weeks after we both have time to process.”

“That’s probably best.” He says, moving to the other end of the bar and facing away from me as he orders a drink.

I go back to drinking my float, taking an occasional surreptitious glance at Theo. He really does look like he did in my dreams. Maybe he is right, but this day has already been too much. I am going to need to do a lot of thinking over the next couple of weeks.

~~Ah. The fun of coincidences. Hope you enjoyed this one.~~