Secretly Admired [FICTION]

The phone rings, interrupting my perusal of my mail. I drop the envelopes on the kitchen table and wrestle my phone from my purse.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end offers me the best news possible. “This is Johnathan from the Golden Goblet. You are on the wait list for a table for Valentine’s Day. The impossible has happened, someone cancelled their reservation for two at seven. Would you like it?”

“Yes, of course.” I hold in a squeal of delight.

“Very good, ma’am.” His voice rises like he is questioning why a woman would be reserving her Valentine’s dining experience, but he diplomatically keeps the question to himself.

I take a deep breath and ignore the implied question. I don’t need a snooty waiter judging me for wanting the most romantic day of the year to actually be romantic.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re very welcome. We will see you and your guest next week.”

“See you then.” I hang up the phone and breath a sigh of relief.

My attention strays back to the mail spilling across the table. I quickly dispatch the junk mail and find myself with three pieces that require further attention. The first two are bills. I recognize those easily and set them aside. The third, a large card envelope intrigues me with pink hearts carefully penned around my address. I don’t recognize the carefully penned capital letters that spell out my name, so I rip open the top and ease the card loose.

“My beloved,” I read aloud, feeling my heart skip a few beats as I picture my boyfriend Rex penning those words. As I continue I realize this is neither his style nor his handwriting. “I have been admiring you from afar for so long that it feels like forever. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but how will I know if I never confess my feelings for you. Whether you share my feelings or not, I would like to treat you to dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

I lower the card to my heart, take a deep breath, and shake my head to clear the sudden fuzzing feeling that has overtaken me. “Seven at The Golden Goblet? I know it is your favorite.”

I gasp and read on. “Just tell them you are there to meet Prince Charming of Sherwood Forest. I don’t want the wrong Prince Charming to steal you from me.”

I put the card beside the bills and turn away. I start scrubbing the kitchen to clear my head. I mull it over for the five days that fall between receiving the letter and the big day. I decide to just meet up with Rex as I planned. Hopefully, that helps my secret admirer move on without breaking his heart.

Valentine’s Day arrives. I call Rex to see when he plans to pick me up. He doesn’t answer. After a few more tries, I send a text. I wonder what he has planned. Maybe he just plans to meet me at the restaurant, so he can get there early. I put my hand over my mouth as the import of what that could mean hits me. I push the thought aside and get ready.

When six o’clock comes and goes without hearing from him, a tinge of worry creeps in to dampen my spirits. I drive myself to the Golden Goblet and smile sweetly at the valet as he takes my key. Instead of heading right to the host to be seated, I linger behind a ficus tree, peering out from among its leaves to see who had the same idea for Valentine’s Day as myself.

As I peer through the greenery, I see Rex’s friend Thomas arrive. I make a soft noise in my throat. I never realized he was dating anyone. I assume that he is showing the host a picture of his date as the dapper man shakes his head. Thomas leans in to whisper something, prompting the other man to nod his head and hold out his hand. As he slips the host a bill, the host’s sour face becomes more genial. He smiles and says something that makes Thomas laugh and then leads him back into the dining room with two of the swanky, leather-bound menus under one arm.

As the clock hands spin closer and closer to seven, I hear my phone pinging to inform me that Rex has finally replied to one of my texts. I glance at the time before reading the message. Seven has come and gone five minutes ago. I frown and open the text.

“I’m not coming. I really wanted to hold out a little longer, but I just can’t have dinner with you tonight. Hope we can still be friends.”

“What?” My confused and horrified question turns the eyes of the other waiting parties to me.

One of the men, who had been arguing with his date in hushed tones a moment before perks up. He offers me a sympathetic look, but I can see the hunger in his eyes, a hunger for a reservation that he clearly didn’t think to make in advance. I frown at him and step up to the host. His eyes light up.

“Right this way, miss.” I recognize his voice from the phone, but I haven’t spoken yet.

“How do you know which table to take me to?”

“The young man showed me your photo. A very nice young man.” He smiles knowingly at me. “I don’t think the photo did you justice though.”

I flush at the compliment. Still confused, I follow him to the waiting table where all I see is a menu. Was Rex messing with me? I got here early. How early did he have to be for me to not see him?

“Sir, your lady has arrived.” The host informs him and he drops the menu to smile up at me.

I gasp. “Thomas. I thought Rex…”

“Oh. Are you meeting Rex?” His face falls.

“No. He couldn’t make it.” I bite my lip.

He looks up at me and clears his throat. At a loss for words, he picks up his water glass and takes a long drink. 

The host feels the change in the air and bows gracefully after pulling out my chair. “Your waiter will be over soon to help you.” His face clearly reflects a feeling that we may need more help than our waiter will be able to offer as he hurries away.

“So…um…you’re my secret admirer?”

His face flushes as he looks down at his hands. He nods his head and then looks up at me through his eyelashes to gage my reaction.

“But Rex is your best friend.”

“He knows. I kind of told him when he told me he was thinking about breaking up with you.” Realizing what he said, he holds up his hands as if hoping to somehow pull the words back from the air before they reach my ears.

“Don’t worry about it. At least you told me in person.”

He pales. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You better figure it out,” I say on impulse. “I have decided not to let him spoil my dinner. I’ve been wanting to come here for months.”

“You’ll stay?” A hopeful smile brings some color back to his face. 

“On one condition.”

“Oh.”

“We can talk about me. We can talk about you. But we are not going to talk about anyone else, and we certainly aren’t going to declare ourselves a couple. This is all very sudden…” I want to impose more rules or run away and cry, but the hopeful smile on his face and the aromas mingling in the air around me convince me to take my seat.

“Agreed. I am content to just be your friend…” He stops talking, but I swear I hear two words echoing in the air. “For now.”

~All love stories have to start somewhere. Hope this introduction made you feel the love. I also hope you have wonderful plans for this delightful Hallmark holiday, even if it just buying yourself heart-shaped box of yum on February 15th. Who hasn’t heard some version of, “If you don’t love yourself, how do you expect someone else to love you?"~

Cell Confrontation

It happens to me every time. I finally get a chance to do something fun and someone else’s innate rudeness ruins it. I thought this time would be different. Between work, the kids, and the world gone crazy. I haven’t seen a movie in a theater in four years. Today, I convinced my husband to take the kids to the park to play for a few hours and snuck off to the theater. When I told him I wanted to see the latest chick flick, he didn’t fight to join me.

The first half of the movie flows smoothly. The only noises around me are almost imperceptible chewing and the occasional rustle of a wrapper, but those are quickly stilled. I’m able to sink into the story and get invested in the heroine’s pursuit of real love despite her suitor’s cluelessness. An underlying storyline adds enough action that my husband would have enjoyed the movie far more than either of us could have guessed. I don’t take time to ponder whether or not I will let him know that because I am too interested in where the writers and directors will take my new friends before the lights go back on.

As the final showdown commences, a soft ring pulls me out of the story. I am no longer watching from a distance and wondering if the male lead will be brave enough to tell the woman he loves the secrets of his heart. My connection to the heroine slips away and I no longer care if she says ‘yes’. I am back in a darkened theater, surrounded by strangers. A soft glow shines from over my left shoulder as one of those strangers turns on their cellphone.

“Hello.” The soft whisper strikes a chord.

I half turn to peer at the speaker.

“Oh, Harry.” The soft whisper gives way to a familiar laugh.

Pulled out of the movie completely, I turn the rest of the way around. I find myself face to face with my boss. Seeing me looking at her, she waves me off.

“Some of us are watching the movie.” I whisper. “Could you take that outside?”

“Jess?” She leans in to peer into my face, covering the phone with her hand. “Just turn around and mind your own business.”

“I would, but…” I point at her cell phone.

She rolls her eyes and puts the phone back to her ear. “Sorry, a former employee thought now was the time to chat.” She laughed again.

I close my mouth over my next salvo. Another watcher leans in to ask her to put her phone away. A tall man with thinning hair adds his support. Soon an usher comes hurrying down the aisle to escort her out. We turn back to the movie, but now I have been completely ripped from the story. My perfect afternoon of solitude dashed into a million pieces. I can’t help but be distracted by one question: do I have a job to go to tomorrow?

~~I know I am not the only one who despises when someone starts talking on their cell phone during a movie. I have even seen it parodied in a few, but isn’t it so much worse when it is someone you know? And totally embarrassing when it is someone in your party of moviegoers? I have had this happen. It was usually the same person. I don’t go to movies with them anymore. Actually, I am surprised they still talk to me, since I am not nice when expressing my opinions on this subject, but they have not fired me as a friend.~~

Got No Problems [FICTION]

 I stand up and clear my throat to repeat the same opening sentence as every other lost soul who takes the podium in this dingy church basement. “I have a little bit of a problem. I like to eat candy in my closet while the children try to find me.” As others nod in understanding, I continue telling my version. “It all started when my children discovered they loved chocolate because my husband shared a Twix with them.

“I told him not to do it, but he said it was mean not to let them know about foods more delicious than green beans and macaroni and cheese. So he let them split a Twix, not a fun size Twix—a FULL SIZE bar. He gave one of them the right Twix and the other one the left Twix.”

More heads nod reassuringly and I go on, “So I joined this support group for tired moms, so I can eat my candy and my donuts at my leisure, while my husband stays home with the kids. Don’t worry, I gave them each a Twix, two whole bars for each of them in one shiny wrapper before I left.” 

I grin. The other mom’s grin with me and applause fills the small room though only eight moms escaped to attend this week’s meeting.

~Clearly, I am addicted to all things candy. I may have still been working on leftover Halloween candy when I originally wrote this piece. Or it could have been yesterday and I may have actually been hiding from the children I love in a closet. We’ve all done it, right?~

Presidential Inheritance [FICTION]

“At last, a president I can stand behind,” my husband says as he pulls the zipper of my dress up for me.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you stand at my side, honey.” I grin.

He steps around to face me and a plants a kiss on my cheek. “Whatever you say, Madame President.”

“Lead me into our future?” I ask as I offer him my arm.

He links his elbow with mine and we leave our apartment. As soon as we enter the hall, secret service men surround us. They match our steps and lead us through the blur of inauguration day. I don’t think I take a breath or process anything until I finally step into the Oval Office. I take a deep breath to hide the gasp of wonder at where I am and why I am there.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” The lead agent asks.

“Not right now.” I smile absently as I notice a card on the desk.

I pick it up, admiring my name carefully scripted on the front of the heavy envelope embossed with the seal of the office I now hold. I slide out a single card on which the outgoing president has written “Good Luck.”

“Alright.” I shake my head bemusedly and set the card down on the desk.

“Let’s give the first lady a moment alone, shall we?” He makes a gesture with his hand and everyone files out, including my husband.

As the door closes behind them, I glance back at the notecard. The carefully printed words fade before my eyes to be replaced by more words.

“How extraordinary.” I pick it up to read the new message.

“You think you know what it takes to be president and you have the necessary skills? Then open the bottom drawer and push the button you find in a hidden compartment there. More instructions will follow.”

I hesitate only a moment before following the directions. It takes me a few tries to figure out the hidden compartment, but once I do, I can see the button I am supposed to push.

“I don’t know about this.” I tell myself or perhaps the card because I find myself looking at it in hopes of receiving encouragement or guidance.

The original two word message has returned, so I push the button. An odd sound causes me to look down at my feet. The floor under the desk has disappeared, revealing a narrow opening. As I push my chair back, the opening widens enough for me to step down into a slender recess in the floor. As soon as my weight is fully inside the hole I feel the floor slowly sinking. After about six feet, the opening widens and I breath a little easier. A glow rises up to meet me as I sink deeper under the nation’s capital.

I finally come to rest at one end of what looks a natural cave. In the center of the room, a large oval table sits surrounded by comfortable-looking leather chairs. In one of these chairs, sits a wizened old man. He stands up as my platform comes to a rest and comes forward to meet me. As he offers me a thin, bony hand with dry, papery skin, I take it tentatively, half expecting him to disappear into mist before our hands meet.

‘Where am I?”

“You are in the most important place in the United States, Madame President, the heart of the country.”

I ponder this a moment, “So I am still in Washington, DC?”

“No one ever understands at first,” he says patiently. “You think you were elected as the president of our fine country for your merits, but you were elected to be given guidance by all those who came before. Our country can’t move forward if we don’t respect our past as we look to the future.”

“Isn’t that what Congress is supposed to do, keep me from exerting my own will on our country?” I ask wryly.

“But the country runs so much more smoothly if the President can be bolstered by the love and reverence of all their predecessors for this great nation. Please, sit down.” He takes my hand and guides me toward the table. 

As I sit down in the chair at the shorter curve nearest me, ghostly images appear in the other seats around the table. I gasp as I recognize Washington and Lincoln and FDR and JFK. I open my mouth to speak, but the old man holds a finger to his lips and I fall silent, listening as holographic images or ghosts, I am still unclear, begin to share their stories and political philosophies with me. I am mesmerized by their words as much as the feelings that come over me. Am I ready for this? How have the last ten presidents dealt with this revelation? Will they even admit to witnessing such a strange second inauguration into the presidency if I call to ask them?

~~At the time I began writing this, we still didn’t know who our next president would be. This is not meant as a political statement about the ensuing events. We now who our next president is and I hope we have all stepped up to support their presidency even if we have differing philosophies, since I planned this piece for this week to coincide with inauguration. I also hope that we are all pleasantly surprised by this president and his term regardless of who we voted for. An election of this magnitude should offer us hope and a chance to reboot our thinking and work together for the greater good of our country now and into the future not dissolve into the threats of violence, dissolution of friendships over differences of opinions, and outright hatred that has permeated this last foray into designing the future of these United States.~~

Snow Schemes [FICTION]

Snow. Snow. So much snow. A world finally washed clean by fluffy flakes from heaven. Two whole days of freedom from the everyday troubles of a small town library. Two days alone in my house, baking cookies to make the kitchen cozy and warm. Two days eating those cookies and not worrying if my favorite pantsuit won’t fit in the morning.

But time marched on, temperatures rose, and my boss summoned me back to my desk. I step into my tiny office as I unwind my scarf. The smell of glue and old bindings welcomes me. I breath it in, pondering whether or not I should break the unwritten rule not to close our doors until we leave for the day. I would love to enjoy a few minutes alone with my latest pile of wounded tomes, repairing them in solitude.

I take one last longing look at the door but leave it open. I crack my knuckles and sit down at my computer. As I reach up to turn it on, I realize the light on the tower is already glowing in a friendly manner. 

“I know I turned you off.” I mutter as I tap the button on the monitor and wait for it to come to life.

My lock screen greets me. I slowly type my password, reassured when it logs in to the desktop. Soon I am immersed in cleaning out my inbox to assure that no new projects have been assigned to me during our two days of closing. It is amazing how my to do list grows even when we have unexpected days off. As I reach for a pencil to make a note of my new top priorities, something nags my mind. I stare at the pencil in my hand. Instead of being a blunt nub, it looks freshly sharpened.

“Odd. I don’t remember sharpening this.” I look around my desk more closely. Other items are shifted slightly. “I wonder…”

I open up the three web browsers on my computer and start scrolling through their histories. It isn’t until I open up Firefox, which I don’t even remember installing, that I find what I seek. Someone has been doing extensive research here. I start clicking on links and forget to breath as I realize that this combination of websites can mean only one thing, someone in our small town is planning a terrorist attack. And they are trying ti set me up as the mastermind.

I go through them again, slowly, one at a time. One more time. This time, every sound makes me jump. I almost leap right out of my skin when my boss peeks her head in.

“Good morning. Glad you made it safe through the snow.”

I breath in deeply to recover my composure and smile back at her. “You know I live two blocks away. I could have been here yesterday.”

“You weren’t.” She says matter of factly. “I checked the logs.”

As she wanders off, I am left to ponder how that is possible. If no one logged in using my account over the weekend, how did this disturbing browsing history get on my computer? As I am pondering this, Neil raps his fingers on my door.

“Hey, Betty, how ya doin’?” He asks in his slow southern drawl. I can’t help but note that his eyes widen when he sees me busily scanning the contents of my screen.

“I’m good, Neil. Just making a list of all the new projects that became top priority over the last two days.”

He nods. “Anything I can help with?”

He steps into the room to stand at my side. I have already resumed reading my emails. He exhales slightly as he looks at my screen and I see him tilt his head down toward the notepad at my fingertips. He finds the list of pending projects unthreatening and steps back to the door.

“Did you need something Neil?” I ask.

“What?” He pauses and turns to look at me. “Oh. No. Just wanted to see how you were doing?”

“Two days off didn’t help with your social skills, did it?” I mumble under my breath, but he is already gone.

I wait a couple of minutes and follow him out into the stacks. While I step carefully to avoid being heard, he taps along in his hard-soled shoes. When his feet stop a couple of rows over, I tiptoe into the adjoining row and peer through the books. 

Neils looks anxiously up and down the aisle. He cocks his head to the side as if listening for something. Finally satisfied, he pulls a black flip phone from his pocket and dials quickly.

“I’ve only got a minute.” He whispers into the receiver. “I know. I know. She didn’t notice anything. Quit worrying.” He pauses to listen to whatever message comes from the other end of the line. “Okay. I have to get back to work. We shall prevail.”

As he heads back toward the offices, I slip around the other side of the shelves, taking careful steps to the opposite side of the building. I have my own phone call to place. Neil doesn’t know that I dated one of the Sheriff’s deputies in high school, but I would rather he not catch me calling him. I continue padding along on catlike feet until I hear the echo of Neil’s footsteps recede onto the carpet. Standing next to one of the double-paned safety windows at the front of the building, I open up a text message. I don’t dare be overheard with what I fear is going on.

‘Jim, you there?’

‘Yes, Betty. Why so formal?’

‘Wanted to make sure it was you.’

‘Should I call?’

‘No. Can’t talk.’

The ellipses appear and disappear couple of times.

‘Someone at the library was using my computer to look up some disturbing things. I think it was Neil.’

‘I’ll be right there.’

‘Please hurry.’

The police station is only a couple of blocks away, but who knows where he is coming from this early in the morning. He may not even be on duty and his ranch is twenty minutes outside of town. I hear footsteps approaching and grab a book from the nearest shelf, sitting down at a chair by the window.

“There you are,” Neil looks down at me suspiciously, trying to read the title of the book in my hand.

I bite back a snide remark about him taking another unsuccessful crack at learning social skills and offer him what I hope comes off as a friendly but confused smile, “Yes, here I am. Did you need something else?”

“Just walked by your office and didn’t see you there. Wondered where you got off to.” He glances at the book in my hand again.

My eyes follow his, my heart slamming in my chest until I realize I have somehow managed to grab “Little Women”, “Something about this cold snap made me want to read this again this weekend.”

“Oh.” He scans the book and my face with obvious suspicion. “Odd. I was just in the stacks and didn’t see you come through here.”

“You were? I didn’t see you either. I wonder how that happened.”

“Yes. I wonder.” He mulls this over.

“I better check this out and get back to work,” I smile at him. “Want to walk me to the circulation desk?”

The question throws him off guard. He stammers something about having his own work to do and wanders off. I toss my hair and glance over my shoulder to find him still watching me. I grin and wave with my book. He scowls for a second before he rights his face and offers me a brief smile.

I reach the circulation desk at the same time that Angelica, who is working the desk, greets a patron. ‘Well, hello, Jim, a little early for lunch with Betty, isn’t it?”

“Never too early to see Betty.” He grins at her and turns his attention to me, “Especially when she has a new book for me.”

“This book is for me,” I tap his shoulder with it before handing it to Angelica.

“I just wondered if you would like to have cocoa with me?” He asks as his eyes scan the entryway and doors leading into the back of the building.

“Of course, once this book is officially mine for two whole weeks.” I wink at him.

As soon as Angelica returns the book to me, Jim and I offer polite goodbyes to her. He loops his arm in my and leans in to whisper in my ear. “You know she thinks we are back together now?”

“I don’t care. We have to talk.”

He giggles and I elbow him in the ribs. We walk in companionable silence to the coffee shop. I lay claims to a table in the back corner while he grabs us both hot cocoa. When he returns with two donuts as well, I don’t complain. In fact, I tear them both in half, so we can each have half of each. He laughs at me.

“Tell me what is going on. Your text worried me and your current expression isn’t reassuring me.”

I explained what I found on my computer and my weird interactions with Neil that morning. Jim raised an eyebrow and looked out at the snow.

“So someone was cruising sights on bomb-making, posting on a forum that seems to be plotting some sort of coup in our sleepy little town, and Neil has been unusually interested in you. You’re sure he hasn’t secretly been harboring a crush on you?” He offers me a weak smile.

“I am not his type.” I lower my head so I am peering at him over the top of my glasses.

“Keep giving me that sexy librarian look and I am going to forget why I am here.” He offers me a real grin now.

“So what are we going to do.” I shake off his attempt at flirting. I will deal with that later, if there is a later for me.

“I already talked to my boss. He should already be in the library with a team. He is going to have some tech guys go over every computer particularly yours, he promised to handle Neil personally.”

“Oh.” I take deep breath of relief.

“No matter what. You can always count on me to have your back.” He takes one last swig of his hot cocoa. “Go back to work. Act like you don’t know anything. Call or text if anything weird happens. Anything.”

“Got it.”

“And call me before you head home. I will walk you.”

“Yes, dear.” I smile at him as I stand up.

“I’m serious. I’ve got your back, but you have to let me.”

I squeeze his forearm. “And I appreciate it.”

He smiles at me, but he can’t hide the worry in his eyes as I step past him, clutching my hot cocoa in my hands.

The library buzzes as I step inside. Angelica is still working the front desk and holding court. A few of our regular patrons and at least half of the library staff form a semi-circle around the circulation desk. She has no trouble entertaining them.

“So Sheriff Jones just rolled in here this morning with a team of police nerds. He left with Neil in cuffs, screaming obscenities, which is odd because I didn’t even know Neil could even hear those words without flinching, let alone apply them with such force. The tech nerds are still all over the building, inspecting all of our computers.”

“What are they looking for?” One of the assembled audience asks.

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet.” Angelica nods her head wisely, “But I have some ideas.”

“What on earth is going on?” I ask as I step up behind the gathering. “Did a new book get released during the storm?”

“Oh, Betty, you missed all the fun.” She offers me a salacious wink. “Or maybe just the fun to be had in a dusty old library.”

My cheeks infuse with blood at the insinuation. I shake my head slightly to clear the shame rouging my cheeks and ask. “So what did I miss? Looks like it was a lot more interesting than hot cocoa.”

Angelica pauses, deciding between continuing to be the center of attention and quizzing me about my liaison with the deputy. Gossip that she can share wins. “Shortly after you left, the police came in. Apparently, someone has been using our computers, possibly for cyber crime.” She leans forward to whisper the last few words.

“Oh dear.” I glance toward the offices. “Have they found anything?”

“As if they would tell me.” Her eyes light up as if a lightbulb has just begun glowing over her head. “But that handsome deputy might tell you.”

“No.” I say abruptly turning toward my office.

“Some people don’t know how to use their feminine wiles,” Angelica laughs as I walk away.

I don’t turn back. I don’t dare engage. I keep walking to my office with my head held high. I get there as the tech finishes whatever he was doing to my computer. I recognize him from high school but can’t remember his name. He nods at me as I step into the room.

“Hey, Betty, just finishing up here. Just so you know, it looks like you were right, so be careful. Jim wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

I am going to need to start wearing foundation to cover this constant flushing that his name seems to bring to my face. “Thanks. I plan to.”

“You’re good to go. I have what I need. And I checked for viruses and malware. All good.” He assures me as I look at my computer apprehensively.

“Thanks.”

He nods again, gathers up his gear, and moves on to the next office, which happens to be Neil’s. I watch him for a second as he sits down and begins tapping at the keyboard. He looks up once to offer me an uncomfortable smile and I sit down at my own computer. I don’t start typing. I can’t focus. I am worried I didn’t react fast enough and that something terrible is going to happen in my little town. 

The worry continues to gnaw at me as I go through the motions. I pick the first task on the list that I compiled this morning and start processing books with extra caution because I am afraid of making a mistake as my mind continues to wander. I take my half hour lunch at the coffee shop, which makes phenomenal sandwiches named after local legends. I don’t taste mine as I wait for any response from Jim, whom I texted as soon as I headed over for lunch. I am so busy checking my phone for his response that I don’t notice him come to stand in front of me until he clears his throat. I jump up from the table, clutching my chest.

“Calm down. I’m one of the good guys, remember?” He points to his badge.

“I’m sorry. I was expecting you to text.”

“Just got out of an interrogation and thought I would come see your beautiful face.”

“Now isn’t the time to flirt.” I frown at him.

“Maybe tonight over dinner?”

“Um, Jim?” I don’t know how to broach the subject at the forefront of my mind.

“Neil isn’t much of a criminal mastermind. He told us everything, including who put him up to this.” He pauses and glances around before leaning in to whisper. “That’s really all I can tell you…active investigation…but I want you to know you are safe now.”

“So I don’t need you to walk me home?” I tease. “Or take me out to dinner?”

“But would you like me to?”

I let the question hang between us in the air. Today has been too terrifying to make any big decisions. And this feels like a big decision.

~~No snow in sight. Much to the disappointment of my sweet toddlers, but I can always write about it, right?~~

Rolling Into the New Year [FICTION]

It’s been eight days. Eight days since we finally stepped into the long-awaited new year. Eight days since something more unexpected happened, but am I permitted to talk about it? If I talk about it will anyone believe me? 

You’re doing the math. Everyone always does the math when one specifies the number of minutes or hours or days or years since an event happened. You have surmised that the day my life changed was New Years as we stood balanced on the cusp of 2020 and 2021. 

This was the year I finally got to celebrate New Years my way. I queued up my favorite selection of chick flicks, lined up my favorite toppings on the counter, and bought an extra quart of vanilla ice cream—just to be safe.

“Sundae celebration for one. I think so.” I smiled as I liberally poured toppings onto the ice cream in my bowl and smothered the concoction with homemade hot fudge.

Halfway through the third movie, I glanced at the clock and realized midnight was only five minutes away. “Time to switch to the ball. Sorry, ladies.” I smiled at the actresses on the screen as a tap of my finger disappeared them from sight.

Another click brought the ball in Times’ Square onto the screen. I let it hypnotize me as I tuned out the commentator’s thoughts on the preceding year and what we have to look forward to in 2021. Maybe I should have listened. It could have prepared me for what has been happening. That’s just wishful thinking though. Nothing could have prepared me for the completely unexpected.

I raised my spoon, once again laden with ice cream, crunched up cookies, nuts, and chocolate sauce. “Here’s to 2021. Hope it is better than 2020.”

Then the ball gently descended. As it reached its destination, welcoming the new year, a soft breeze blew across my face, causing me to look to my right. I gasped as I realized an ostrich stood at my side. He trilled at me in what I hoped was a friendly manner but I scooted away from him anyway.

He shook his head, stretching his slender neck toward me and regarding me with huge, dark eyes. He opened his mouth again.

Instead of trilling at me again, he spoke in a soft voice with a hint of a British accent. “It’s time to choose, child. Will you uphold the code of chivalry and take the Vow of the Ostrich as you enter into this new and unprecedented year.”

“Umm…” I stammered. “Did you just speak?”

“Yes, I did. Didn’t you hear me?”

I nodded my head.

“And you understood?” The bird took a couple tentative steps toward me and peered into my eyes.

I nodded again.

“So what is your answer?” When I still didn’t open my mouth, he flapped his wings, stirring up the air around me and filling it with fluttering feathers. “Did you forget how to speak, girl?”

“No,” I finally forced out a word.

“Then you do not wish to make the Vow of the Ostrich?”

“I’m sorry. I have no idea what is going on.” I looked down at the bowl of ice cream soup still clutched in my hand. “It must be all the sugar.” I placed the bowl on the coffee table and closed my eyes. “One. Two. Three. Four…”

“How high are you planning to count?” The ostrich interrupted.

My eyes flew open. “Until you disappear…”

“I can not disappear until you answer my question. I begin to think the home office didn’t contact you.”

“The home office?”

If it were possible to frown with a beak, the ostrich would have benefitted from that ability. He somehow managed to scowl with enough disapproval to be felt three states away without it though. As it was, I felt very sheepish for somehow bringing his disapproval down on me.

“Let me give you the quick and dirty explanation and then you can decide, but please listen carefully, I have other vows to witness tonight.”

I nodded my head, biting my lip and hoping the sugar would wear off soon. The beginning of 2021 shouldn’t be hallucinations of gigantic birds offering to induct me into a society so secret that I have never heard even a rumor of it. As the ostrich told me about the Vow of the Ostrich to remain chivalrous and kind even if it means sticking our heads in the sand, so to speak, in order to overlook the faults of others, I nodded slowly. In light of recent events, sticking my head in the sand didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“Ah, yes, you would like to take the vow? Excellent! Excellent!”

Before I could reply, he produced a scroll from under one wing. He pressed his beak to it, leaving an imprint. “Sign above my seal.”

Confused by the sudden appearance of a pen in his other wing, I took it and signed my name. But now I am a member of whatever group makes the Vow of the Ostrich. And how do I find out about that? Can I just summon the ostrich back? Do you know?

Are you an ostrich?

~~So, dear readers, should I dive deeper into this train of thought? Seems like a lot of us are already took a similar vow. I am trying to avoid reading too many posts on social media right now because the world has gone crazy… So many things to write, so many time. So hard to choose which to move to the top…~~

Happy New Year [FICTION]

“I guess I’m kissing you again,” I tell my image on the screen of my phone.

It shares the same sentiments while making the same wry smile. As the ball begins its descent, I lean toward my screen, giggling softly. 

“Hmm?” I hum as my phone pings. “An email at this exact moment? Intriguing.”

The notification tells me that the email was sent from my own email with a subject of “Open Immediately”. I don’t remember setting up an email to myself, particularly not tonight at this exact moment.

“What’s this all about?” I ask and then promptly answer. “My last spam of the old year and first of the new..”

I click on the notification.

~

Yes, it’s you. I mean me. There are some things you need to know right now before you kiss that screen. You have better prospects than that shiny little box. Put it down. Put it down and go out into the world and live your life.

P.S. Maybe you should wait until the sun comes up. It might not be wise to start the new year in darkness.

~

I frown at the email as the New Year conviviality on my television begins to fade.

“No kiss again this year.” I lament as I make my screens go dark and head off to bed.

~

Upon waking, I open up the mysterious email again. It sounds so much like me, but I don’t remember setting it up to arrive at the stroke of midnight. As I am perusing my brief missive for the third time, another email alert pings. I click on it.

~

Seriously, GO OUT into the world and live your life. How many times will I have to tell you this before you get our life moving in the right direction?

~

I shrug my shoulders and slide off of the couch, slipping my feet into the pair of socks nested in my shoes and then into those cheap tennis shoes before stepping out into the cold January morning. I tread lightly because the ice I can’t see worries me more than that which brazenly greets my eyes. Despite my caution, I still find myself careening across black ice.

I come to a stop in the arms of another woman. She laughs as she steadies me without dropping the bags dangling from her arm.

“Good thing I played football with my brothers as a kid.”

“Thank you.” I mumble as I tilt my eyes toward the ground, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as I fear.

“No problem, dear.” She scrutinizes my worn sneakers. “You’re very brave to wear shoes with so little tread after last night’s temperature drop.”

“Yeah, not smart.” I agree.

She laughs again. “You need some cocoa to start the new year. Come have some with my brother and I.”

Hot cocoa sounds delicious, but I demur. “I couldn’t…”

“What if I ask nicely and smile at you,” a deep voice rumbles over my head.

I turn to face a broad chest wrapped in a dark woolen peacoat. I slowly raise my head to look into a beaming face protected from the elements by a well-trimmed auburn beard. 

“Umm…”

“Don’t worry. He’s a gentle giant.” My new friend whispers in my ear, before gesturing to me and raising her voice. “Aaron, this is my new friend…” She gestures toward me, waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Mandy,” I force my name out.

“And I am Jasmine,” she continues to beam at me. “Now that we are all introduced…cocoa?”

She grabs one arm and Aaron takes the other before I can respond. Soon I find myself nestled between them at a tiny table as we sip steaming cocoa.

“New year. New friend.” Jasmine says between sips of cocoa that redden her cheeks and leave a dollop of marshmallow cream on her nose.

Aaron reaches up to swipe the latter away for her, laughing as the sticky substance smears further across her nose and onto her cheek. “You might need a mirror and some soap to help with that.”

She frowns at him, setting her mug down on the table. “Don’t steal my cocoa or scare away my new friend.”

Aaron lets out a deep laugh that rolls over us and into the room. I see a couple of weary heads lift to take us in. A few even smile at me. One girl winks conspiratorially as Aaron leans in to whisper to me. 

“You have to forgive my sister. Clearly, she doesn’t know how to make friends. I’ll cover for you if you want to make a break for it.” He grins at me as he lowers his voice another degree. “But I have trouble making friends, too, so maybe you could take pity on both of us.”

I blush and raise my cocoa to my lips, blowing on it a couple of times before taking another tiny sip. I applaud my choice not to get any type of cream in mine as I lower the cup and find Aaron eying my nose.

“Nothing there?” I squeak, trying to be funny.

“Just a cute nose.” He responds flashing me that smile again.

I ignore the weird gyrations of my sleep-deprived heart and take another sip of my cocoa, which has luckily cooled enough to remind me to be cautious but not enough hurt me. I continue hiding behind the cup as I wait for Jasmine’s return.

~~Just so you know, dear readers, these writing prompts are meant to generate under 500 words. As you may have noticed, I often can’t limit my creativity to that level. Sometimes I start writing and think I know where the story is going. Then my character goes out and does something stupid and I feel like I just wrote the meet cute for a classic Hallmark movie. (For a girl who doesn’t like to read romance novels, I seem destined to write one, don’t I? At least it would be a clean one that wouldn’t have been quoted/mocked in “Bad Medicine” starring Steve Guttenburg… I hope.~~