Lisa R. Howeler's Blog, page 96

Randomly Thinking: Hair in the crack in the wall, wisdom in your teeth, and other random thoughts

Welcome to my Randomly Thinking post where I share random tidbits from my life. Read on at your own risk.

***

There is a crack in the wall at my parents that has grown some and now a part of the wall has chipped off. The last time I looked at it, I noticed there was hair poking out of it.

“Uh, Dad? Did anyone from your family ever go missing?”

Dad sighed. “No. I would assume that’s when they added horsehair to the plaster to make it sturdier.”

Of course, this took me to the internet, not to look for a missing family member, but to read about horsehair mixed in plaster.

So, yes, back in the old days of construction they used horsehair in walls.

According to the National Association of Realtors, plaster walls constructed before the 1950s were “sometimes called “horse-hair plaster” because it was common to mix horsehair into the wet plaster to add strength, and to prevent cracking with minor flexing. Heating and cooling a house will cause plaster to expand and shrink slightly, so the hair helped keep the walls a bit more flexible.”

Huh. So that probably is horsehair in there and not the decomposing body of Great-great-aunt=so-and-so after all. Hopefully anyhow.

***

The crack in the wall made me think of Doctor Who and that first episode with the eleventh Doctor.

***

I have a bit of an issue with those videos popping up all over the internet of the grooms crying when they see their bride coming down the aisles. The romantic in me would love to say it’s because they are so moved by the beauty of their bride they have been brought to tears. Or maybe it is because they simply can’t believe their bride has chosen them. I would also love to say it is because it means he has decided he will devote his entire life to this woman. Really, though? A crying groom could mean anything.

I once watched a groom cry and hoped this would mean he was turning his life around, going to be a better husband than he had been a boyfriend, be a real father to his girls. Instead, a year later he was cheating on his bride, a few years later she’d taken him back and he was still cheating. Then a year after that he was in jail for various offenses.

Eventually, he was divorced, his children adopted by another man, and he was in jail for manufacturing and trafficking meth. Sometimes tears mean everything. Sometimes they mean nothing at all.

I still choose to think the crying of the men in most of those videos means something, though, and that something is very special. The romantic in me isn’t dead yet.

***

Can’t remember if I ever shared this photo of my shocked pickle on here. It looked this way right before I ate it.

***

I don’t know why this was on my mind last week (gee, I have no idea why) but I was thinking about when I was in elementary school and our teachers had us do drills where we had to hide under our desks in case of a nuclear attack. Apparently, they believed that those old metal desks along with our trapper keepers placed over our heads we’re going to protect us from the apocalypse. We also had to do tornado drills where we went into the hallways and crouched down together so if a tornado ripped the roof to our little school off, we’d all go up in the air together, I guess.

***

I spent the one day a couple weeks ago, editing Beauty From Ashes more and finding all my overused words or phrases. For example, my characters have eyebrow and chest problems. Their eyebrows are often “furrowed” and their chests are always “constricting.” Oy.

I went in and changed a lot of those, if not for the readers’ sake then for mine. I’m also removing a lot of “sighs”, “eye rolls” and “nodding moments.”

***

Little Miss just told me she wants to keep her wisdom teeth when she gets older because “I think that’s where your wisdom is, and it keeps you from talking stupid later.”

I suggested wisdom is found in a person’s brain instead and she said, “Maybe, but I think there is a little wisdom in both places.”

I told my dad her theory and he said, “Well, I still have my wisdom teeth and I still say stupid things all the time so I don’t know . . .”

***

I was raised by a very nurturing woman, so it has been a challenge for me over the years to live with men in my house who don’t want to be nurtured when they are sick. If I offer to make them tea or soup or anything I often get rebuffed with, “I’m fine. I don’t need anything. I’m not hungry.”

They walk around the house talking about sore throats or their heads hurting or how they think their nose is going to explode, but when they’re offered some help they deny being sick enough to need assistance. If I don’t pay attention to them, though? Well, then there is simply a lot more sighing and comments about how bad they feel and the cycle starts all over again.

***

On Monday of last week, I went back to that bank where the crazy car accident that I mentioned in a recent Sunday Bookends post. To give you the shortened version, a woman pulled up next to me at the bank, hit her accelerator instead of her brake and drove the car straight into the curb in front of the bank a few times, ripped the car into reverse without taking her foot off the accelerator and the car shot back, past my van, somehow missing it and a stop sign, did two doughnuts, then turned around the right way and slammed into the front of our local newspaper office. Somehow, neither she or anyone else was injured.

I have to admit that I was pretty nervous about going back to the bank two days later to cash a check, but I figure lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice so I should be good. This, of course, is a fallacy that people toss around all the time since this summer a man came into my husband’s newspaper office to tell my husband how he, indeed,  had been struck by lightning twice. Luckily, this did not happen to me and I was able to complete my business and leave without incident.

The ladies at the bank and I still don’t know how the woman avoided my vehicle when she yanked that thing into reverse, and we chatted about that as I cashed my check.

The woman who works there, a family friend, said it was nothing other than “God’s protection on me.” I think she’s right and I’m thankful for it.

***

We finally received some warmer weather this week and yesterday the kids and I went outside, swooping our caps in front of our faces and screaming, “The sun!! The sun!” because we felt like vampires after being inside for so long.

Our animals went out with us and as is common with them all three of them followed us up and down the street. We look like some weird animal trainers or something, the way they follow us up and down. Of course, when I try to get the kitten back in the house (so she doesn’t get hurt or climb up a tree again) she takes off on me. She’s not even a kitten anymore, but I still call her the kitten because she is younger.

***

I’m sure I’ll mention this in my Sunday Bookends post this week (because I really have nothing else very exciting to write about) but this week we went from snow on the ground on Monday and the kids playing in it, to 60-degree temperatures and going for walks with thin jackets. Spring in the north can be so weird.

***

So those are my random thoughts for this week.  How about you? Is anything random going on in your world? Feel free to let me know in the comments.

Book Review His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan

Book title: His Road to Redemption

Author: Lisa Jordan

Genre: Inspirational Romance

Published by: Love Inspired

 

Description:

A veteran in need of a fresh start
will get more than he bargained for…

Veteran Micah Holland’s scars go deeper than anyone knows. An inheritance from his mentor could be a new beginning—if he shares the inherited goat farm with fiercely independent Paige Watson. Now the only way they can keep the farm is to work together. But first Micah must prove he’s a changed man to keep his dream and the woman he’s falling for.

My review: When you read a lot of romance books, they can sometimes become stale and predictable (though Love Inspired books are not usually this way) so when I picked up His Road to Redemption, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised at the way this story was laid out and the unique characters Lisa created. I absolutely loved Micah and his complexity. I loved his tenderness, hidden sometimes under a tough veneer, and I loved how he worked through the challenges of his life without being overly dramatic about it all.

 

When a character with a physical challenge is written about in some books, too much attention is focused on that challenge. In this book, Micah’s physical challenge was mentioned once or twice but didn’t need to be reiterated several times. This made his injury seem normal and part of his every day, which it was. Yes, he was injured at war, but he moved forward through his life and didn’t let it stop him from reaching his goals. Very often, an author tries too hard to push the idea of inclusivity instead of simply making the challenge part of who the person is.

 

After reading this book I will definitely be looking for more Love Inspired books, but especially more by Lisa Jordan. As someone who has met Lisa (but who was not asked to read or give a review of this book), I can tell you that her kind, caring and faith-filled personality comes across in this book. When I put it down, I not only felt good inside but satisfied and for a reader, a satisfying read is everything.

Sunday Bookends: Moriarty, stupid winter weather won’t go away, and All Creatures Great and Small

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing and listening to.

What I/we’ve Been Reading

I have been reading the same books I was reading last week. I know. How sad. I don’t know why I didn’t read more this week. I can’t even tell you what I did instead other than some editing on Beauty From Ashes, working on character profiles for a future story, homeschooling, and being depressed a couple of days for various, silly reasons.

I finished Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz during a very rare marathon reading session I held during Saturday’s snowstorm (see below). I curled up under the covers with two cats on either end of the bed – one by my head on a pillow and the other one at my feet — while the grinding roar of the neighbor’s snowblower drifted to my ears from the tightly closed window. Downstairs my son chatted and played video games with his friends while my daughter watched cartoons on an old phone. My husband, meanwhile, had curled up for a nap to help him prepare to shovel and snow blow the driveway later in the day.

I knew something was amiss throughout Moriarty but couldn’t figure out exactly what. I had it guessed though long before the end and yelled out, “I knew it!” when it revealed what I had suspected all along. What a mind twist, though. I definitely recommend it, especially if you are a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes stories. This is written in a similar manner on purpose to make the book fit in well with the originals.

I should have Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison finished by the end of today. Then I will continue to read a memoir about a woman who left the Mennonite community for a book tour and start either the next book in the All Creatures Great and Small series or a book my husband recommended —Call Me A Cab by Donald Westlake. This will be my first book by Westlake.

Little Miss and I are finishing Emily’s Runaway Imagination for the second time and then we will start Ribsy, also by Beverly Cleary.  

The Boy is reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson and I am terribly behind on it because I am supposed to be reading it with him. The Boy is also reading Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman.

I forgot to ask Hubby what he is reading, but I’ll add it later when I find out.

What’s Been Occurring

Snow, snow, snow. That’s what’s been happening here as Winter 2021-2022 gives its last gasp before moseying on out of here.

We received a few inches on Wednesday of last week and by Thursday it had melted and made way for more snow on Saturday.

On Friday I ran an errand to the local supermarket and I ran in and out without a coat.

The sun was bright, I wanted to open the windows and would have it hadn’t been for a cool breeze. I thought of chasing my children outside, warning them this was their last chance for warmth for a few days, but I gave up. We might as well muddle through this weekend and they can enjoy the warmer weather next week.

The Boy had a couple of friends over and, of course, they got snowed in with us, so I had a house full of teenage boys for a couple of days. My husband and I hid upstairs while they were downstairs playing video games and watching memes or what I see as inane YouTube videos. Little Miss chatted with her friends on the phone while playing stupid online games.

We were going to take the boys home Saturday night but I didn’t know if I liked the idea of them being on the road. I didn’t want to say anything, though, because my husband has a busy day today with some work things and I didn’t want to complicate things even more. We went back and forth about it for a bit, trying to decide, and I texted their parents while my husband went to get gas. While he was at the gas station, down the hill from our house, a wind gust came up and white-out conditions developed. I received a text that announced the boys were staying another night because my husband didn’t feel it was safe to drive.  Whew. Not long after he came back the white-out conditions subsided so I don’t know if that was God answering my prayers about what to do or not. I do know that the wind and blowing snow continued off and on the rest of the night.

We are all expecting this to be our last snowstorm of the season, thankfully.

The next few weeks will be busy for us with various homeschool activities, doctors’ appointments for me and my family, dentist appointments, and an appointment with the dog groomer. Little Miss has also joined gymnastics so that adds another activity to our plate. She attends Awana on Wednesday evenings until the end of April.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week the hubby and I started to watch Chinatown with Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway, but got interrupted. Hopefully, we will finish it later this week. We also watched a lot of Night Court and then I had to binge watch all of season 2 of All Creatures Great and Small before today because I didn’t want to pay for another subscription through Amazon. I had purchased a seven-day trial and planned to add PBS Masterpiece to our list of channels until I noticed we already have a couple of kids channels, another PBS channel, Britbox, and Acorn. Streaming is starting to be as expensive as cable at this rate.

I enjoy the new All Creatures Great and Small, even though I originally refused to watch it because I have a soft spot for the original. What I like about the new version is they actually have James with a Scottish accent, instead of a British one, like he had in the original. Since James Herriot (well, James Alfred Wight, which was his real name) was from Glasgow, he would have had a Scottish accent. I guess back in the 70s they didn’t like to be authentic in that way. Watching the show has made me want to go back and finish reading the series. I think I’ll tackle that in the next couple of weeks.

Later this week I may watch Redeeming Love, the controversial movie based on the controversial Christian Fiction Romance by Francine Rivers since it has been put up on Peacock.

I haven’t made my mind up yet about that one. I never read the book and never really had an interest, so I don’t have that much interest in the movie but would like to see what all the fuss is about.

What I’m Writing

I have been writing a few blog posts but haven’t shared all of them yet. Last week I shared:

Fiction Friday: I love how the men in my books interactWinter isn’t done with us yet

I am working on a Randomly Thinking post for later this week and will also be working on some rewrites for Beauty From Ashes and maybe a couple other story ideas I have.

What I’m Listening to

I am still listening to the new Elevation Worship album, which I love.

I also really enjoyed Pastor Steven Furtick’s sermon last week:

Now it’s your turn

What have you been reading, watching, listening to or doing? Let me know in the comments.

Sunday Bookends

Sunday Bookends March 13

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing and listening to.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I have been reading the same books I was reading last week. I know. How sad. I don’t know why I didn’t read more this week. I can’t even tell you what I did instead other than some editing on Beauty From Ashes, working on character profiles for a future story, homeschooling, and being depressed a couple of days for various, silly reasons.

I finished Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz during a very rare marathon reading session I held during Saturday’s snowstorm (see below). I curled up under the covers with two cats on either end of the bed – one by my head on a pillow and the other one at my feet — while the grinding roar of the neighbor’s snowblower drifted to my ears from the tightly closed window. Downstairs my son chatted and played video games with his friends while my daughter watched cartoons on an old phone. My husband, meanwhile, had curled up for a nap to help him prepare to shovel and snow blow the driveway later in the day.

I knew something was amiss throughout Moriarty but couldn’t figure out exactly what. I had it guessed though long before the end and yelled out, “I knew it!” when it revealed what I had suspected all along. What a mind twist, though. I definitely recommend it, especially if you are a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes stories. This is written in a similar manner on purpose to make the book fit in well with the originals.

I should have Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison finished by the end of today. Then I will continue to read a memoir about a woman who left the Mennonite community for a book tour and start either the next book in the All Creatures Great and Small series or a book my husband recommended —Call Me A Cab by Donald Westlake. This will be my first book by Westlake.

Little Miss and I are finishing Emily’s Runaway Imagination for the second time and then we will start Ribsy, also by Beverly Cleary.  

The Boy is reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson and I am terribly behind on it because I am supposed to be reading it with him. The Boy is also reading Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman.

I forgot to ask Hubby what he is reading, but I’ll add it later when I find out.

What’s Been Occurring

Snow, snow, snow. That’s what’s been happening here as Winter 2021-2022 gives its last gasp before moseying on out of here.

We received a few inches on Wednesday of last week and by Thursday it had melted and made way for more snow on Saturday.

On Friday I ran an errand to the local supermarket and I ran in and out without a coat.

The sun was bright, I wanted to open the windows and would have it hadn’t been for a cool breeze. I thought of chasing my children outside, warning them this was their last chance for warmth for a few days, but I gave up. We might as well muddle through this weekend and they can enjoy the warmer weather next week.

The Boy had a couple of friends over and, of course, they got snowed in with us, so I had a house full of teenage boys for a couple of days. My husband and I hid upstairs while they were downstairs playing video games and watching memes or what I see as inane YouTube videos. Little Miss chatted with her friends on the phone while playing stupid online games.

We were going to take the boys home Saturday night but I didn’t know if I liked the idea of them being on the road. I didn’t want to say anything, though, because my husband has a busy day today with some work things and I didn’t want to complicate things even more. We went back and forth about it for a bit, trying to decide, and I texted their parents while my husband went to get gas. While he was at the gas station, down the hill from our house, a wind gust came up and white-out conditions developed. I received a text that announced the boys were staying another night because my husband didn’t feel it was safe to drive.  Whew. Not long after he came back the white-out conditions subsided so I don’t know if that was God answering my prayers about what to do or not. I do know that the wind and blowing snow continued off and on the rest of the night.

We are all expecting this to be our last snowstorm of the season, thankfully.

The next few weeks will be busy for us with various homeschool activities, doctors’ appointments for me and my family, dentist appointments, and an appointment with the dog groomer. Little Miss has also joined gymnastics so that adds another activity to our plate. She attends Awana on Wednesday evenings until the end of April.

What We watched/are Watching

Last week the hubby and I started to watch Chinatown with Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway, but got interrupted. Hopefully, we will finish it later this week. We also watched a lot of Night Court and then I had to binge watch all of season 2 of All Creatures Great and Small before today because I didn’t want to pay for another subscription through Amazon. I had purchased a seven-day trial and planned to add PBS Masterpiece to our list of channels until I noticed we already have a couple of kids channels, another PBS channel, Britbox, and Acorn. Streaming is starting to be as expensive as cable at this rate.

I enjoy the new All Creatures Great and Small, even though I originally refused to watch it because I have a soft spot for the original. What I like about the new version is they actually have James with a Scottish accent, instead of a British one, like he had in the original. Since James Herriot (well, James Alfred Wight, which was his real name) was from Glasgow, he would have had a Scottish accent. I guess back in the 70s they didn’t like to be authentic in that way. Watching the show has made me want to go back and finish reading the series. I think I’ll tackle that in the next couple of weeks.

Later this week I may watch Redeeming Love, the controversial movie based on the controversial Christian Fiction Romance by Francine Rivers, since it has been put up on Peacock.

I haven’t made my mind up yet about that one. I never read the book and never really had an interest, so I don’t have that much interest in the movie but would like to see what all the fuss is about.

What I’m Writing

I have been writing a few blog posts but haven’t shared all of them yet. Last week I shared:

Fiction Friday: I love how the men in my books interactWinter isn’t done with us yet

I am working on a Randomly Thinking post for later this week and will also be working on some rewrites for Beauty From Ashes and maybe a couple other story ideas I have.

What I’m Listening to

I am still listening to the new Elevation Worship album, which I love.

I also really enjoyed Pastor Steven Furtick’s sermon last week:

Now it’s your turn

What have you been reading, watching, listening to or doing? Let me know in the comments.

Fiction Friday: I love how the men in my books interact

I love the men in my stories and how they interact with each other.

In the Spencer Valley Chronicles, I currently have three men who I write about the most and who are all good friends with each other.

Jason Tanner (Harvesting Hope) and Matt McGee (Beauty From Ashes) went to high school together and Jason met Alex Stone (The Farmer’s Daughter) in college.

The men harass and pick on each other, but are also there for each other during the tough times.

I recently listened to a class with Susan May Warren and James Rubart about how to write male characters in our fiction and realized that while I needed a lot of the tips, I also have the benefit of living with two men who I can draw from when writing from the POV of a man. Am I an expert in writing male characters? Not at all. I still make them sound like a woman more times than not, which is why my husband suggested I remove some of my “internal brooding” moments with Alex from The Farmer’s Daughter. Sure, men do some internal brooding but not as much as women. They have things to do, places to be, and, luckily, men can compartmentalize so they don’t spend every second debating their “feelings” about every single situation.

I had Alex being way too introspective in The Farmer’s Daughter, even with my husband’s changes, but, well, Alex was at an emotional crossroads in his life, so he was doing a bit more soul-searching than other times in his life.

Today I thought I’d share some of my favorite interactions between the men in my books, just for fun. If you haven’t read the books, be warned, there are some spoilers here:

When Alex had moved to Pennsylvania, he soon realized watching the Philadelphia Phillies every Saturday afternoon that they played was a requirement in the Tanner family, whether he liked it or not. He, Jason, and their friend Matt McGee had laid out a spread of subs, chips, and sodas, kicked off their shoes and flopped onto couches and chairs, ready for a baseball binge.

“Alex Stone sounds like the name of some guy from a romance novel.” Matt playfully punched Alex in the shoulder and handed him a soda. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

Jason smirked. “How would you know about the names of characters in romance novels?”

“Hey, I had sisters growing up. They all liked those romance garbage novels. You know, the romances with the cookie-cutter plots. The ones with happy endings that made you want to gag because you knew it wasn’t real.”

“Yeah, just like the movies based on them,” Alex offered, cracking open a soda. He took a sip. “Girl with big career comes back to her hometown for a visit down on her luck.”

“Girl runs into an old boyfriend,” Jason said.

Alex mockingly sighed. “Old boyfriend brings back hard memories, but then old boyfriend tries to apologize for all he’s done.”

“Girl falls for old boyfriend again,” Matt said.

Jason grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl and shoved them in his mouth. “Old boyfriend screws up again and girl goes back to big city.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “But old boyfriend realizes he’s a screw-up and that he really loves her and follows her to the city.”

“He tells her he’s always loved her.” Matt took a sip from his soda. “And she tells him she’s always loved him.”

“And everyone lives happily ever after,” Jason concluded.

Alex choked out a gagging noise. The three men looked at each other, pretending to wipe tears from their cheeks.

“Cookie-cutter plots full of clichés.” Matt poked Alex in the chest. “And you, Alex, are one of those clichés. Alex Stone. The handsome cowboy with the six-pack who comes to steal the girl away from the boring, uptight rich guy in the city.”

Alex lifted his shirt and looked at his flat, but slightly paunchy stomach, pushing at the soft flesh. “I’d love to have a six-pack, but I think I would need to work out a little more.”

Jason opened a bag of chips and reached for the remote. “Or just work more period.”

“Oh, geez, thanks, bud.” Alex elbowed Jason in the ribs.

Then there was this interaction between Matt and another friend, Troy, when Alex revealed (spoiler alert) he had an interest in Molly.

“We haven’t seen you at the bars lately,” Troy said as the waitress brought the drinks. “What’s up with you?”

I’m growing up, Alex wanted to say.

“Just been enjoying some solitude,” he said instead, deciding not to add that he was actually enjoying that solitude with Molly when they could find time alone.

He found it uncanny that at the exact moment he thought of Molly, she appeared out front of the restaurant, talking to the librarian. What was the librarian’s name again? He thought Molly had said her name was Ginny. They’d been attending art classes together.

He smiled as an idea struck him; a way to make his friends think he hadn’t lost his way with women, when he knew he had and didn’t mind at all.

“What do you boys think about Jason’s sister? She’s good looking, right?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Um. Yeah. She is, but you better not be noticing.”

Alex laughed, looking out the window at Molly. “Why?”

“Because Jason will kick your butt for checking out his little sister,” Matt answered with a tone that signaled he thought Alex had lost his mind.

Troy shrugged. “I don’t know, she’s a little too big for me. Nice girl, though.”

Alex took a sip of his soda, still watching Molly talking with the librarian, and then smirked.

“She’s just right for me. I like a girl with some meat on her bones.” He winked at his friends. “More for me to hold on to.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Dude. You’re so going to end up with a bloody nose if Jason ever hears you talking like this.”

Troy laughed and punched Alex in the arm.

“Yeah, seriously, Stone, you better watch it. Jason will kick your butt to next week if he hears you talking like that about her.”

Alex looked at Troy and Matt and rubbed his thumb and index finger along his unshaven chin. “I bet I can get her to go out with me.”

Matt shook his head. “You’re too old for her. She doesn’t want to go out with an old man like you.”

Alex’s grin widened. “Hey, she’s only a couple years younger than me. I bet you she will.” He stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

“Dude! Don’t make an idiot out of yourself!” Troy called after him.

“More than you already are anyhow,” Matt added with a laugh.

Then there was later, in Harvesting Hope, after Alex and Molly were seeing each other and Jason had to put up with the two of them sneaking kisses in the barn.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex’s arms slid around Molly’s waist, pull her close.

“Save that for later.” His tone denoted a touch of teasing, even though he was serious. “We’re behind schedule.”

Molly and Alex locked gazes, small smiles playing at the corners of their mouth. It was obvious they were ignoring Jason’s attempt at wielding authority. He’d have to start the milking without them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex pull Molly closer and lower his mouth to hers. Revulsion tinged with jealousy swirled in his stomach. Revulsion over Alex kissing his little sister right there, outside the barn door where Jason had to see it; jealousy because he wished he was holding Ellie the same way. He didn’t know if she’d ever let him hold her that way again.

Alex playfully bumped him in the arm on his way to gather the feed several moments later, grinning. “There’s always time for a sweet kiss from your sister, buddy.”

Jason choked out a gagging noise. “Dude, seriously. No. Just no. Never talk that way about my sister around me again. Especially not this early in the morning.”

There were moments he regretted convincing Alex to move in with him and work on the farm, for example right now, bogged down with thoughts of Alex kissing Molly. Most days, though, Alex was part of the family, as much as a brother as he was a best friend.

I also wrote about Jason dealing with his best friend and sister dating later in the book:

The front door slammed open, bringing Alex and a gust of wind into the room and jostling Jason from his memories.

This was present day Alex. Alex several years older but in some ways the same ole’ Alex. Well, hopefully not exactly the same, since he was dating Molly now.

The crash of thunder and rush of pounding rain roared into the living room, quieting only when Alex pushed the door closed, his clothes clinging to him. Sliding his cowboy hat off, he propped it on the hook next to the door, then paused and looked at Jason, sprawled on the couch on his back.

“All the lights are off and you’re listening to sad country music. This can’t be good.”

“It’s not sad music. It’s Chris Ledoux.”

“Who you only listen to when you’re sad.” A crack of thunder rattled the window and lightening lit the sky outside.

Alex winced as he pried his wet button-up shirt off and tossed it toward the laundry room. It landed in the hallway, and Jason hoped he would pick it up this time. “Thinking about Ellie?”

Jason tipped his head back against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched across the faded grey cushions, one arm laying across his forehead, the other one hanging off the couch.

“Yeah. And Lauren.”

Alex reached up and flicked on the light switch. “Ah, man, no. Not a good combination. You can’t sit here alone reflecting on past mistakes. It’s not healthy.”

Jason burped and reached for the can of soda on the coffee table without sitting up. Alex kicked at an empty bag of potato chips on the floor. “Um… this isn’t healthy either. Where are your regular veggie sticks and protein shakes?”

Alex pulled his wet tank top off and walked behind the couch toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. “Listen, I’m going to go get dried off and changed. When I come back, you better tell me what’s up.”

“Will you have your shirt on when you come back? Because I don’t need to see that.”

Alex scoffed and slapped his hand against his bare chest. “Of course, you need to see this. Who doesn’t?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Yeah, well —”

“If you say Molly likes to see that, I will get off this couch and mess up your pretty boy face.”

Alex raised his hands in a surrender motion. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, big boy.”

And for a sneak peek of Beauty From Ashes, an interaction between Matt and Jason during a hunting trip:

Matt knelt next to the animal and drew his knife. “Too bad he rolled down here. It won’t be fun carrying him out.”

Jason lifted his arms and flexed his arm. “Leave that to me, puny man,” he said in a thick European accent. “I can carry your haul for you. When you’re done, you go ahead and get ATV and I’ll meet you at access road.”

Matt leaned back on his heels and quirked an eyebrow. “Puny man? Really? Just because your muscles are as big as my head doesn’t mean I am a puny man, T anner. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my deer to the access road. Plus, let me point out that I got a deer today and you didn’t, remember?”

Jason laughed.  “Hey, come on. It’s barely nine in the morning. I don’t have to be back at the farm for a couple more hours. I still have time to get one .” He leaned over and poked Matt’s bicep. “But you, little man, don’t have time to build up muscle before we need to carry this deer out.” He laughed again as he swung his gun onto his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ ll head down for the ATV. It will take me a while to hike down and by then you should have this dressed and carried down.”

Jason was right, of course. Matt wasn’t as muscular as him. Having played football in high school and college, plus lugging heavy hay bales and farm equipment around every day, Jason did have a lot more upper body strength than Matt and almost anyone Matt knew.

I’m looking forward to writing more interactions between these men in a future book that will focus on Alex and more of his backstory.

Winter isn’t done with us yet

Looks like Old Man Winter isn’t ready to leave Pennsylvania.

Today we received some really messy snow that canceled events and meetings. This weekend we are supposed to get even more. I am a homebody, which I’ve mentioned before, but this winter is getting to be a bit long. It hasn’t really been the snow that has been the issue this winter, it’s been the cold and ice and just flat out messy road conditions.

We had arctic temperatures for about two months, which didn’t let the snow from late December melt. We’ve been able to see the ugly yellow-green grass for a couple of weeks now but today the snow has covered it again. It was mainly ice covering it before.

Weather forecasters originally said it would be melted by this evening because the ground has been so cold. Then around 1:30, they announced they were wrong and we were going to get four or five more inches before the day was over. Tomorrow we are supposed to have partly sunny weather and higher temps so, this snowfall should be gone by tomorrow night. Maybe. Hopefully. Who knows at this point.

But then comes Saturday. We are expected to get five to ten inches (or maybe more I heard this afternoon). I’m going to add a disclaimer, though, because the last time we were told we might get that much snow we got about two, maybe three inches. In other words, I’m not freaking out about Saturday just yet.

Here we are, waiting for spring, and Pennsylvania is being her usual, annoying self, and bringing us winter. The geese and the rest of the birds are very confused by it all. I could hear the birds chirping away, probably telling each other what we humans are telling ourselves, “It’s going to be fine. A couple more storms and winter will finally be behind us.”

The funny thing is, I saw my first robin this morning – hopping around on my neighbor’s driveway, in the snow. Poor thing. I swear, though, the robins around here are super fat. They look like they’ve eaten a couple other robins.

I don’t actually mind another week of winter in some ways. That gives me another week of curling up under a warm blanket with a cup of herbal tea (with tons of local honey, of course) and a book or a good show.

So how about you? How is the weather where you are? Hopefully, it is warm and sunny or going to be warm and sunny soon!

Launch team members needed for Beauty From Ashes

Hello! I am looking for launch team members for Beauty From Ashes, which releases on April 26. I am looking for a few readers who would be interested in helping me get the word out about the book. I will be sending free ebook ARC copies of the book out in late March to anyone who is interested in helping out. For more information send an email to lisarhoweler@gmail.com or sign up HERE and let me know you’d like to help out. There isn’t a major commitment, other than letting people on your social media know about the book.

Here is a basic description of the book:

27-year old Liz is a bit lost, trapped in a prison of shame after becoming pregnant by her abusive boyfriend. Well, technically ex-boyfriend. Now she is a single mother who feels like the whole town, or at least her church-going parents, view her as a trashy woman with no morals. That’s not what she used to think of herself as but — could they all be right? And if they all think that, what about God?

53-year old Ginny Jeffries has hit a snag of her own in life. She hit the snag a couple of years ago, in fact, and now she’s still stuck on that snag, with no sign of moving forward. Her husband, Stan, hasn’t noticed her in at least a year, maybe longer, her job as the town’s library director has become mundane and stagnant, and her youngest daughter is having some kind of identity crisis. Pile on the return of her ex-boyfriend from high school to town and she’s about to collapse under the weight of it all.
Can the two women figure out their chaotic, confusing lives together?

Sunday Bookends: A total bizarre car accident, worship music, and what’s next for my fiction

What’s Been Occurring

I mentioned last week that we hadn’t left the house in a couple of weeks due to weather and a cold (which was very short, thankfully). This week I finally left the house on Friday and then wondered if I should have stayed home.

I went down into our little town to grab a couple subs for my kids. On the way back, I pulled into a parking space in front of the local newspaper, which my neighbor’s own. I didn’t even put the car in park, though, because I remembered I needed cash for the product I was hoping to pick up. I put the car in reverse and swung to the building next door, parking in front of the bank.

After pulling some money out of the ATM, I got back in my van. I broke a piece of chocolate I’d picked up at the store off and when I looked to my left, out of the driver’s side window, a car pulled into the space next to me and instead of stopping it kept driving into the curb and railing in front of the bank. I said to Little Miss who was in the backseat. “Uh-oh, I think that woman hit the accelerator instead of the break.” I thought her forward motion would cause her car to get caught on the curb, she’d get a clue, pull the car back a bit and then park it before getting it out and inspecting the clear damage to the front end of her car.

Instead, she yanked the car into reverse, never took her foot off the accelerator (or the accelerator stuck, I’m truly not sure which), and the car shot backward into the small side street behind us, somehow swung out and around the back end of my van and down into another small street. In the intersection of that side street, she did two doughnuts (for those who don’t know, this is when a car spins around twice while still on four wheels, not flips over, thankfully), kicking out moves I’ve only seen on TV.

I thought she was going to come flying back at me and I told Little Miss, in an alarmed voice. “I’ve got to get this van out of her way!” Before I could, though, her car shot around the other direction and she slide full force into the front of the newspaper office, coming to rest partially against the building and partially in the parking space my van had occupied five minutes before.

Little Miss told me later she’d heard glass shatter and she thought the woman had broken her front windshield and was dead. I don’t even remember hearing the glass. I think I was still in shock that she hadn’t hit our van. Someone walked over from the restaurant across the street and another person stepped out of the newspaper office and I stayed glued to my seat, unsure I really wanted to go see if she was okay, afraid she wasn’t. By the time I did walk across the street — since I first turned around and saw a woman I know at the bank standing outside the building with her hand on her heart, looking very shaken — the elderly woman was out of her car, standing and didn’t seem to have a clue what had happened. A member of the fire department arrived quickly, not sure where he came from, and asked her if she was hurt. She said, no. He asked her if she was on any medication. She didn’t know. He finally suggested she sit in the newspaper office while they waited for an ambulance. Inside he asked her if she remembered what had happened. She didn’t. She just sort of smiled at us all like she was trying to figure out what the fuss was about. She, of course, was evaluated by the ambulance personnel when they got there. I’m not sure if she was taken to the hospital or not.

The woman from the bank checked on me later that evening and told me “God was watching out for you today!” She probably had a better view of it all from her office and may have even seen how close the woman’s car came to my van.

God was watching out for me because if I had parked at the newspaper and walked to the bank (as my Mom suggested I could have done), that woman probably would have killed me while I tried to walk back to my van. She also would have hit my van for sure, not swirling around it, but slamming directly into the front of it, and possibly injuring Little Miss.

I told my mom that this was one time I was glad I was lazy and hadn’t walked the hundred or so feet to the bank. “See,” I told her. “Being lazy paid off this time.”

In reality, it wasn’t about being lazy. I simply hadn’t put the van in park yet when I remembered I needed, or at least wanted, the cash.

Little Miss was pretty shook up after that and wanted to go home, but the fire chief told me to stay so I could give a witness statement to the state trooper. Little Miss wasn’t crying but had wide eyes and kept saying, “I just want to go home now.” I finally told the chief I was going to take my daughter up to my house and come back, since the local state police barracks is about fifteen minutes away and the trooper wasn’t there yet. I did return and give a statement, which was a very boring one since it had all happened so fast.

After all this, by the way, the newspaper office didn’t have what I was looking for so I should have just gone home. Sigh.

Since was the first time I’d gone out in a couple of weeks, it also made me a bit hesitant about Tuesday when I have to drive back down the street to get some blood drawn for a thyroid panel. I hope that trip is a lot less exciting.

What I’ve Been Reading

This past week I continued on Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz and Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison. I expect to finish Every Star in the Sky before the end of the week.

I will probably start Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross after I finish Moriarty.

Little Miss and I are reading Emily’s Run Away Imagination by Beverly Cleary again.

The Boy is still reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

What I’ve Been Watching

The husband and I have continued to watch Brokenwood Mysteries and I really enjoy the show. I’ve fallen in love with the main character, but not in the way you think. He’s just a likeable guy and I’m interested to know more about him as the show goes on.

I feel like I need a break from murder and mayhem this week, however, and am going to look into a subscription of PBS Masterpiece so I can watch the new All Creatures Great And Small to take my mind off the craziness of the world.

What I’m Listening To

I’ve been listening to songs on YouTube that were used on Brokenwood episodes most of the week. Most of the artists are from New Zealand, I believe. My husband says they have a large country music scene there that he was unaware of until this show.

Some of the songs are going into my playlist for a book I am working on called Lily.

I also was introduced to Jordan St. Cyr’s songs Fires

And Weary traveler:

Elevation Worship has a new album which I hope to listen to more this week. So far, I like the song, Lion.

And also, What I See

And.. well, I think I might love the entire album. My husband says it is their best yet and I think he is right.

What I’m Writing

I finished sharing Beauty From Ashes on the blog this week (called A New Chapter for the blog) and am now moving on to working on a couple of other stories I’ve been wanting to tackle, before I start book four in the series, which I so far have named Mercy’s Shore. I don’t know if I’ll be sharing that one on the blog or not, yet. We will see.

Last week on the blog I shared a post about what we are reading for homeschooling as well as one about looking back at February and forward to March.

Your Turn

So, what are you reading, what have you been doing, listening to or watching? Let me know in the comments.

Special Fiction Saturday: A New Chapter Chapter 28 and 29

Chapter 28

Stan had been listening to his breathing and staring at the patterns on the ceiling of the Blue Room of the Blueberry Inn for two hours now. It was a lovely ceiling, with shapes of leaves impressed into the paint by an obviously expert mason. The inn, overall, was actually lovely. It smelled of fruit, it was quiet, the bed was soft, the owner was sweet and attentive (he’d certainly never run out of towels or cups of piping-hot, blueberry tea), the atmosphere was cozy, and the breakfast that came free with the room fee was better than any at the local diners.

Despite the comfort of this home away from home, though, his chest was aching. As a matter of fact, his arms were too.

They ached to hold Ginny close against him, feel her breathing slow and soft. He missed how he used to know everything was going to be okay as long as she was there.

He hadn’t gone to work yesterday and had answered two calls the entire day. One was from Matt, updating him on Bernie’s condition. The young man was in pretty bad shape, but doctors were optimistic and expected him to pull through and go home in a couple of weeks. He’d face some charges for his involvement in the heroin delivery, but nowhere near what he could have expected, and Matt was hopeful he’d get a lighter sentence because of the evidence he’d turned over. That sentence would hopefully be outside of prison so he could still be with his family and help support them.

The next call had come from Olivia. He had assured her he was fine, just tired and stressed. He told her he’d explain more about why he was staying at the inn later.

“She loves you, Dad.”

He didn’t want to talk about Ginny’s supposed love for him. “I need to go.”

“Clint and Tiffany will be here in a few days. I hope you’re going to come home before then. I really don’t want to have to tell Clint our parents are splitting after 32 years of marriage.”

He’d assured her that he’d be home when Clint and Tiffany came home, hung up and had flopped back on the bed, where he’d been laying ever since.

Splitting after 32 years of marriage.

Was that what was really happening?

A strange buzz shot up from the tips of fingers to his throat and he closed his eyes. His heart picked up its rhythm and his chest tightened. He dragged a hand across his forehead, now beaded with sweat.

Oh, this was just great. He was having a heart attack at the Blueberry Inn. He clenched his eyes closed tighter against the pain in his chest. At least he’d die somewhere pretty he supposed.

His breathing quickened and he sat up on the edge of the bed, tightening a fist against his chest as he opened his eyes. “You’re fine, Stan. You’re not having a heart attack. You’re just —”

He stared out the window at the empty yard outside, a cherry tree naked of its blossoms in the center of it next to a black metal bench.

 He remembered Ginny talking about Liz one day, about how she was suffering from panic attacks after giving birth.

No way.

He was not having a panic attack. Panic attacks were for women. He winced at how that thought had sounded. It wasn’t that women were weaker, they just had more hormones and hormone shifts from pregnancy and menopause and cycles or whatever they were called. He stood and walked to the window, drawing a breath in slowly and holding it for a few seconds. Isn’t that what Ginny had said she’d told Liz to do? Something about a deep breath, holding it for six seconds and letting it out for seven or eight or something.

He couldn’t remember and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up hyperventilating. His gaze drifted from the cherry tree to the street beyond. About half a mile down the road Ginny was dressing for the library fundraiser. She was slipping into that black dress he loved, putting on that necklace he’d bought her for birthday five years ago, making sure every hair was in place, and her lipstick was on straight.

How he longed to touch that hair, kiss that neck, breathe in deep the smell of vanilla body spray he knew she’d use before she walked out the door. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked to the car, sit next to her at the fundraiser and feel a swell of pride that his wife had created all of this to raise money for the library and provide free books and outreach programs to the community, especially the youth.

He rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand and noticed the ache was subsiding. His breathing was slowing down too. Thinking of Ginny in that dress must have been enough to distract him from the panic surging through him and if that was working then that meant he wasn’t having a heart attack. Mental images of beautiful women in low cut dresses might cause a heart attack, but not cure one.

A bird jumped from the back of the bench to the ground, searching for food. It pecked at the ground as Stan watched it, but not really seeing it. Images played across his mind. Nights of passion, clutching hands, hard kisses then tender embraces, long talks about their favorite movies, and slow dancing to Frank Sinatra in the living room.

He remembered Ginny cradling babies, swaying late at night to soothe them, kissing booboos, wiping away tears, late nights talking with their daughters about boys and one early morning advising their son on the best way to propose to his girlfriend.

He turned back to the bed and laid on it again, on his back, hands folded across his stomach. He tried to think if he could really imagine Ginny cheating on him, beyond a quick kiss from Keith that was. If he was going to be honest with himself, something he hadn’t done in a long time, he couldn’t imagine it.

Still, any woman who felt neglected could forget who they were and stray from their marriage vows, couldn’t they? He certainly had made Ginny feel neglected. He was sure of that. All work all the time had not only made Stan a dull boy but a very cranky and unlovable one.

He closed his eyes, felt a wave of exhaustion, and realized he had no idea how to even get back to who he’d been before he became so obsessed with being the best in his career. He had no desire to be that person any longer but how could he break out of the mold he’d created for himself these past few years?

“You just take a sledgehammer to it and commit to being better, Stan.” He mumbled the words as sleep overtook him. “You also commit to talking to your wife more and yourself less.”

***

She’d tried not to let what-if’s consume her mind, but Ginny couldn’t help it. The way Clint had told her that he and Tiffany were moving had lingered in her thoughts for months now. That one comment about “how this move is needed right now” is what had really stuck with her.

Now, with Clint on the other end of the phone, checking in and letting her know everything was coming together for the move, she couldn’t hold back her concern any longer. No, she didn’t need any more to worry and stress about, between the situation with Stan and Olivia coming home, but it would be one less thing she had to sit and wonder about.

“Clint, are you sure things are okay because when you called to tell me you were moving closer, you said you and Tiffany could really use this change.” She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger as she sat on the stool by her dresser. “Just something about your tone made me think there was something you weren’t telling me.”

Clint laughed. “Mom, things are really fine. You worry too much. You also have your mom goggles on. Things have been tough for me and Tiff because having four kids and one on the way is a challenge, but our marriage is good. We could use a couple nights out together, some alone time, though. Maybe you and Dad could help with that?”

Ginny let out a breath. “Of course, we could. Anytime. We would love to—”

Had he just said, “one on the way”?

“Wait, four and one on the way?”

Clint laughed. “Yeah. One more on the way. I was going to wait and tell you and Dad when we got there but you’ve sounded so worried, I just needed to let you know what’s going on and been on our minds.” He laughed again. “And don’t ask for any more grandchildren from us. This is the last one. We’re making sure of that.”

She hung up a few minutes later, promising not to pass the news on to anyone else until they arrived and could share the news themselves.

She began to wipe the make-up she’d worn to the fundraiser off, suddenly exhausted, despite the good news from Clint. It had been a very long, very emotionally draining week. Staring at herself in the mirror it unnerved her at how removing the makeup slowly revealed more of the wrinkles she developed in the last few months. She’d probably developed most of them in the last few days, along with several additional grey hairs.

At least the fundraiser was over. Now she needed to shift gears to finishing plans for Clint and Tiffany’s welcome home party. They’d be here in only a couple of days. She couldn’t wait to hug her grandchildren close, forget about her crumbling marriage for even a few hours as she watched them giggle and play with each other. She hoped Clint and Tiffany wouldn’t mind if she filled them up with chocolate chip cookies and cake for the first couple of days, especially because she knew how much they loved her chocolate chip cookies and lemon sponge cake.

Filling their kids up with sweets, might distract them from the fact she and Stan were currently living in separate locations. The heartbreak struck at her again at that thought and she took a deep breath to keep from crying. She’d cry after she got undressed, slipped into her nightgown and cuddled under the covers with a Jan Karon book and a carton of chocolate ice cream.

The diet could wait until she pulled herself together a little more.

She reached behind her to neck to unzip her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. There was no way she could reach it that way. She tried behind her back and slid her hands up, but that wasn’t working either. She’d had Olivia zip it up for her before she left, a job that used to be Stan’s. Olivia was out with some friends at the movies, though, and probably wouldn’t be home until late. Ginny had a feeling Brent might be attending as well and wondered if this would mean a reunion between the two. They’d made a nice couple in high school, before Olivia had decided Spencer and all that was associated with it was too good for her.

Ginny winced as a pain shot through her wrist. There had to be a way to get this dress off without help. What did single women living alone do to get out of similar dresses for goodness sake?

“Need help?”

She screamed at the voice, clutching her hand to her throat.

Stan’s reflection in the mirror caused her to scream again and she pivoted to face him. “Stan! Good grief! I thought I was alone.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry about that.” He took a couple of steps toward her as she tried to catch her breath and the smile faded. “And for all the times you really were alone.”

The intensity in his gaze left her unable to look away. He was a foot away from her now, studying her as if trying to read her reaction to his words. She had no idea what message her expression was sending because she wasn’t even sure what expression she was making. Her mouth was partly open, her face still warm from the shock of him walking in when she thought she’d been alone, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. She imagined she might look something like Edvard Munch’s The Scream painting at the moment.

He lifted his hand, held it in mid-air for a few seconds then pushed several strands of her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek instead of lowering his hand. “How I could have ever chosen my job over you, I’ll never understand.” He stepped even closer, looked down at her, smoothing the palm of his thumb across her jawline. “Can you ever forgive me?”

This time she wanted the kiss that followed. She wanted the arm that slid around her back, pulling her close. She wanted the fingers that slipped behind her head, up into her hair, clutching as his mouth softly touched her upper lip. She wanted this kiss more than she’d wanted almost anything, other than the first kiss he’d ever given her or to hold each of her children while carrying them inside her for nine months.

He tilted his head, caught her mouth more firmly with his and deepened the kiss, drawing her mind completely from her body until all that filled her thoughts were the feel of his skin against hers as he slowly unzipped the dress and slid his hands inside, sliding them down her back.

When he pulled his mouth from hers, he found her neck, trailing kisses along it and then back to her mouth again.

She moaned softly as the kiss continued and the dress slipped off her shoulders and to the floor. Both of his hands had moved into her hair now and her fingers clutched at the front of his jacket as he stepped back, pulling her with him toward the bed.

This wasn’t how she had expected her night to end. Not in the least. But as she felt the bed underneath her, her husband’s body next to her warm and solid as she had wanted it to be for so long, she decided this was a much better ending that huddling under the covers alone with a pint of chocolate ice cream.

Chapter 29

“Olivia, no. I don’t want to wake, Mom. It sounds like she’s had a crazy week with the fundraiser and, well, everything else.”

Ginny listened but didn’t open her eyes. Was that Maddie’s voice? Her oldest daughter was home, and no one had told her she was coming? Stan shifted slightly next to her, but he was either asleep or lying in wait like her to see what their children said about them. She kept her arms around his middle, pressed her cheek against his bare back and listened to the commotion in the hallway outside their bedroom door.

Olivia sighed. “I shouldn’t have even told you about everything else, but I didn’t know how to explain about Dad not being here.”

Oh great. How much did she share?

“I just wonder what made them have that fight.” Maddie definitely sounded concerned and as the oldest daughter Ginny was sure she wanted to fix it. It didn’t sound like she knew the whole story, though, and Ginny was glad for that. She didn’t really need the whole family knowing about the kiss with Keith. She was embarrassed and ashamed enough.

“I’m sure it was just — I don’t know, old people stuff.”

Ginny sighed softly. Typical Olivia comment.

“Liv, that’s not nice.” Ginny’s eyes flew open. Clint? What was he doing here already? He and Tiffany weren’t supposed to be here for two more days, and he hadn’t told her when they talked last night that he was already in town. “They’re not just old people. They’re our parents.”

The clanking of dishes and a bump against the door preceded Olivia’s next words. “Well, whatever. Let’s take Mom some breakfast. She’ll be so excited that you are both here already.”

Ginny clenched her eyes closed. It was too late to dart from the bed and throw on some clothes, too late to have Stan do the same. Luckily, they were both covered with the comforter and hopefully enough to keep their children from being too shocked.

“Oh!” Olivia’s whispered declaration made Ginny bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh. Ew. Ew. And another ew.”

Maddie’s giggles were muffled. “I guess they made up.”

“Do you think they’re —” Olivia made a gagging noise that made Ginny want to laugh even more. “I mean do you think that they —”

Ginny couldn’t see it, but she could practically hear Clint roll his eyes. “They’re old, not dead, Liv. Yeah, they probably are, and they probably did.”

Now Maddie, also whispering, though Ginny wondered if they knew how loud they were whispering. “Liv, I know it’s your parents and you don’t like to think about it —”

“Our parents. Our parents, Mad and they are like 60. Ew.”

“They’re like 56, not 60,” Clint said in a scolding older brother tone. “That’s not that old. I mean, we’ll be that old someday.”

The voices faded and the door clicked closed. “Yeah, some of us faster than others.” Olivia’s voice teased from the hallway. “I was going to go down and eat breakfast but I think I’ve lost my appetite now.”

“Well,” Maddie said, her voice trembling with laughter. “At least we know things are good between them.”

“Oh, Mad! Stop!” Olivia’s tone of disgust did Ginny in and a giggle tumbled out of her.

Stan’s shoulders shook and she knew he’d been listening to. He rolled over to his side, smiling and cupped his hand against her cheek like he had the night before.

“Good morning, old lady.”

“Good morning, old man.”

“This old man could use a shower and some breakfast but he’d also like to lay here a little longer with you, if that’s okay.”

Ginny tipped her head slightly as he kissed her forehead. “It is, old man. It definitely is.”

***

“Let me get my hands on that baby!” The squeal that followed Tiffany’s affectionate demand made her sound more like a high school student than a grown woman with four children. Liz obliged and handed her older sister Bella. Tiffany kissed Bella’s cheek pulled her back and held her in front of her for a few seconds before cradling against her.

“Oh, you are so sweet! Even sweeter than I imagine! I’m so happy I can finally hold you!”

Tiffany swayed a little in place, all her attention on Bella as Liz looked on with both amusement and tenderness. She’d imagined she might have children one day and her sister would rejoice with her. She actually hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though, and definitely had not planned for it to be something that happened without a husband, so the moment was tinged with a bittersweetness she’d rather not have tasted.

Tiffany looked up. “So, how is motherhood treating you?”

Liz chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Okay. I just wish I was as good at it as you are.”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “As good at it as me? Did you see my children today? One of them has two different shoes on. Another one is over behind that chair making a mess in his diaper and the oldest has eaten his weight in brownies today.” She sat down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, shifting Bella to a sitting position against her. “I’ve been watching you the last couple of days, Liz. You’re good at this mother thing. Don’t worry about that. There isn’t some magical perfect way to be a mom. There’s no formula. You just do the best you can, and you are doing the best you can and that best is pretty great right now. You think I know everything about parenting? Even with four kids? Well, technically five.” She glanced at her belly.

Liz smirked. “Or six if you count, Clint, right?”

Tiffany laughed and held a finger to her lips. “Shh. That was just between you and me.” She tipped her head toward the cushion next to her. “Sit down and tell me about the college classes you started. How are they going?”

Liz sat and leaned back against the arm of the couch, twisting her body toward Tiffany. “They’re going. I’m still not sure what degree I’ll end up with, but right now I’m working toward a degree in social work and until then I’ve apparently become a children’s librarian.” She shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “It’s not such a bad job, but of course, I haven’t had my first story time yet, so I’ll get back to you on that.”

Shouts from outside the window drew her attention from her sister and daughter and she stood to look out it. In her parents’ side yard, Matt was standing with his legs apart and an arm cocked back with a football in his hand, ready to throw it down the field to Jason. Clint and a group of Clint’s friends swarmed around him, raising their arms, ready to tackle Matt or block the throw.

She smiled, letting her eyes linger on Matt’s attentive expression as his gaze flicked across the field while he decided where to throw the ball. The charges against him had been dropped after Gabe’s arrest. Once he’d completed his two-month suspension, Reggie and the council planned to reinstate him based on his previous good record. Liz was disappointed that he had lost his chance to become a state police trooper, but she seemed to be the only one. Matt told her he was content where he was, glad to be able to remain in Spencer with her and Bella.

“So, it’s official?” Liz looked over her shoulder at Tiffany’s question and saw her sister was standing behind her now, looking out the window as well.

“What’s official?”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “You know what. That you’re together with little Matty.”

Liz raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help smiling. “Little Matty?

Tiffany laughed again. “Yeah, that’s what his sister and I always called him in school. Sooo, is it official?”

Liz looked back out the window, at Matt who’d tucked the ball under his arm and was now attempting to run down the field still dotted with spots of snow from the snowfall the night before.

“Yeah.” A smile pulled at her mouth as she pushed the curtain further back. “It’s official.”

Ginny set a tray of glasses full of lemonade on the coffee table. “And it’s about time too.”

Liz pursed her lips and shot Ginny a mock scowl, but wasn’t able to hold it long before a smile pulled her frown upward. “Shush, you.”

Stan stepped behind Ginny as she straightened and slid an arm around her waist.

“She’s just happy for you, Liz.” He pulled Ginny back against him and kissed her cheek. “She’s hoping that you and Matt will have as happy of a marriage as she and I have for all these years.”

Liz held up her hands. “Slow down, matchmakers. No one said anything about marriage.”

Ginny winked. “Not yet, no, but I’m sure if I use my teacher voice with little Matty he’ll get right on that.”

Liz laughed an easy laugh, a laugh that wasn’t forced or tight like it had once been. Ginny and Stan meant well. A future with Matt was what she wanted, but for now, she simply wanted to enjoy the beauty coming forth from the ashes of her past.

Fiction Friday: A New Chapter Chapter 27

I will be sharing the last chapters of this story tomorrow.

Chapter 27

She couldn’t get her hands to stop trembling.

Even now, standing at her apartment door, unlocking it, far away from the scene of the shooting. She’d called Ginny and Ginny had agreed with Matt. She was closing the library early anyhow because of all the police activity down the street. 

A conversation she’d had with Molly over a year ago resurfaced.

“I’m just friends with Matt. It’s not like that. He’s easy to talk to and I like hanging out with him, but — he’s Matt. I’ll always think of him as a brother more than a boyfriend. Maybe because he’s friends with Jason and I just remember him as that weird military obsessed guy from high school.”

Molly had tipped her head in a pitying way, more pity toward Matt than Liz. “He’s a nice guy, Liz.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s also a cop. I don’t know if I can date a cop. I mean, what if I develop more feelings for him and then I’ll just worry about him out there on the streets . . .”

Molly had snickered. “On the streets of Spencer? Where what — he might get punched by a drunk guy down at Mooney’s or get kicked by a cow?”

Liz had turned from the list of coffee flavors behind the counter at the coffee shop they were at and tipped her head. “Molly, you really are naïve about what happens in this county, aren’t you?”

And Molly had been, but maybe she’d been a little naïve too. Sure, she knew there were issues with drugs and alcohol in this town, but someone being shot on the street? No, she hadn’t thought that would happen. Matt could have been killed. It was a thought that surfaced, but that she pushed back down again. If she thought about that too long, she’d trigger a panic attack and those had been better lately. She didn’t want them to come back again

She glanced at the sunlight streaming in through the windows in the living room as her phone rang and she shut the door behind her, locking it.

“Are you okay? Martha said there was a shooting on Main Street. Is that true? Do you know?”

She tossed her keys on the kitchen table. “I’m fine, Mom. Yes. Matt was there and he’s okay too. He told me to go back to my apartment so I’m there, with the door locked.” Sliding her shoes off she yawned. Since her mom and dad were watching Bella, maybe she could manage a nap.

“Where is Molly? Is she with you?”

“She’s at the store. We’ve talked and she’ll be home early tonight.”

They chatted a few seconds longer about Bella and the fact she was taking a nap so Marge would bring her to the apartment in the evening. Liz’s shoulders relaxed as she slid her finger over the end call button and dropped her phone into her purse, then hung the purse on the back of the kitchen chair. Her bed was definitely calling to her.

“Are you okay, Liz? Really?”

A scream ripped through her at the sound of the deep voice from behind her. She swung around to face the dark hallway. Gabe’s laughter boomed off the walls, sending a chill shivering through her. When he stepped forward, sunlight brightened one side of his face and the other remained in darkness. What the sun hit was bruised and swollen, dark purple mixing with light purple.

Liz took a step back toward the kitchen.  “What are you doing here?”

Gabe gestured outward with his arms, leaning against the wall, more of his face coming into the light. “Just thought I should see what the mother of my child is up to these days.” His leather jacket was open, revealing a white T-shirt, stained with red and brown. “What? Don’t you like visitors?”

Liz’s chest constricted as she bumped into one of the chairs pushed into the table. “Not those who aren’t invited, no.”

Gabe pushed himself off the wall, and walked into the living room, slumping into the chair next to the couch.

Liz could clearly see his black eye and a deep cut across his cheek now. He winced and lifted his foot, stretching out his leg, and propping it on the coffee table. “Don’t worry, drama queen. I’m not here to hurt you. I just got myself in some trouble. Needed a place to lay low for a bit.”

“How did you even get in here?”

He smirked. “You know, for having a boyfriend who’s a cop, your apartment isn’t very secure. I climbed in one of the bedroom windows. Must be Molly’s room with all those cow photos hanging all over.” He grimaced as he lifted the other leg and propped it next to the first. “That’s what McGee is, right? Your boyfriend?”

Liz kept moving backwards until she bumped into the kitchen counter. Two more steps to her left and she’d have her hand on the drawer with the knives.

“You need to leave, Gabe.”

“Oh, Liz. Liz. Calm down and have a seat. Let’s just chat a while. I already said I’m not going to hurt you.” He hugged his arm around his side and made a face. “I’m not in any shape to hurt anyone right now anyhow.”

Her fingertips touched the edge of the knife drawer. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused somewhere outside the window, his eyelids heavy. She wasn’t sure she cared, but she asked anyhow. “What happened to you?”

He scoffed. “Life happened to me, Lizzie dear.” He tipped his head back, closed his eyes. “It finally caught up to me. All the fun couldn’t last forever, right?”

She ran her finger along the edge of the drawer, ready to open it if he moved. He kept talking as her eyes drifted to her purse, now several feet away.

Gabe sighed. “I’m in trouble.” He coughed out a laugh, his eyes still closed. “When am I not in trouble, right? But, alas, I am in even bigger trouble than ever before.”

Her mind flitted between opening the drawer and lunging for the phone in her purse. “What’s going on?” She should probably keep him talking until she decided. “Who did this to you?

She took a step toward the purse at the same moment his eyes opened, and he tipped his head to look at her.

“Do you really care? Really, Lizzie?” He sneered. “You know you don’t.”

He was right. She just wanted him to leave. She knew she should care, though. She should see him the way God saw him – as a flawed human who deserved a second chance. That wasn’t how she saw him, though.

She saw him as a threat.

He tipped his head back again, but kept his eyes opened, focused on the ceiling. “I never thought I’d be where I am today. All I did was borrow some money to keep the business going. Then a little more for the pills to keep me going. Who knew my uncle would call in the loan by manipulating me into running his drug business?” He laughed again, the sound sending a mix of pity and anxiety skittering through Liz.

She stood frozen between the kitchen table and the counter, unsure which direction to go. Gabe’s lack of predictably always had been a problem.

“Are you on the pills now?”

He stood abruptly and turned toward her, but leaned forward quickly, hands on his knees, grimacing. He lifted his head without straightening. “You think I’d be in this much pain if I was?” He stood, his arm wrapped around his side, and moved toward the other side of the living room, near a display of photographs on the wall above the television. His eyes moved from photo to photo as she took two steps closer to the purse.

He glanced at her. “She looks like you. That’s a good thing.”

Liz drew in a breath slowly, glad Bella was with her grandparents.

He kept his eyes on the photo as he spoke. “I screwed up, Liz. I borrowed money from him, lost it gambling and fueling the pill addiction. When I couldn’t get it back to him, he told me I’d either help him with deliveries and production or he’d end me.” His smile was unnatural considering the topic he was discussing. “Fitting isn’t it? He did to me what I did to you. Manipulated me into getting what he wanted like I manipulated you.” He pushed a trembling hand through disheveled, dark brown hair, laughed sardonically. “What goes around comes around, right? Isn’t that in the Bible?

Liz folded her arms across her chest, keeping her gaze locked on him. “No, I don’t think it is.”

He turned to face her. “An eye for an eye, right? Same thing?”

She tilted her head to one side, her jaw tight. “Not exactly. No.”

He walked toward her slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Liz. I already told you that.” He stopped a couple of feet from her, hands at his side. “I came here because I can’t figure you out and I want to figure you out before I go to jail.

The muscles in her body tensed. Her gaze flitted to the purse again. Only a few more steps and she could have it, but could she get the phone out before he reached her? He took another stepped toward her and she had her answer. “What are you talking about?

He tipped his head back slightly looking at her through narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you press charges against me?” He tipped his head back down and shrugged a shoulder, pulling the chair with her purse on it out and sitting in it. “I pretty much assaulted you that night in my apartment. We both know it.” He laid his hand on the table. “Are you still so afraid of mommy and daddy finding out about you that you never told anyone how that baby was really conceived?”

Liz folded her arms tighter across her chest. What was his game, really? Was he kidding right now? Did he feel guilt or pride over his actions? She couldn’t read him.

“You really need to leave, Gabe.”

“It was wrong, Liz.” He leaned forward on his knees, winced again, and touched a hand to his ribs. “What I did. You deserved better than that. You’re a good person. Better than me and almost anyone else and I stepped all over that.”

She pivoted quickly, ripped open the knife drawer and grabbed the first one she could reach. Swinging around she held it out in front of her. She knew him too well. He never apologized. There was another reason behind his words.

“Get out, Gabe.”

He raised his hands, still sitting, a smirk twitching one corner of his mouth upward. “What are you going to do, stab me?” He laughed, his hands still up. “It would serve me right at this point. You should just go ahead and get it over with.”

She gripped the knife handle tighter, stepping slowly around the table until she was in front of him. “Just leave, okay?”

“So, you can call Matty-boy to come arrest me?”

He laughed again, lowered his hands, and then tipped his head forward, closing his eyes. “Just do it.” He opened his eyes again as he lifted his head and looked at her. “Call McGee. Show’s over for me.” He reached behind him, reached into her purse and slid out the phone, laying it on the table. He pressed a finger on top of it and slid it across the table toward her. “Jail is the safest place for me right now, trust me.”

She kept the knife in front of her, glancing at the phone then back at him. He inclined his head toward the phone. “Take it. Call him.” He slid his finger over the screen, opening it. “Here, I’ll help you.” He looked at the phone and tipped his head, pushing his lower lip out. “Aw, look at that. McGee’s in your favorites. “How cute.” He tapped his finger on Matt’s name. “There, I dialed it for you. Tell him to come rescue you from your scary ex-boyfriend.”

Instinct told her not to reach for the phone. Gabe tapped the speaker button instead.

Matt’s voice came from the phone. “Liz? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Gabe kept his eyes focused on hers, smiling as he leaned toward the phone. “Liz needs rescuing, McGee. At her apartment. Better drop your Bible and get on over here.” He leaned closer to the phone. “And feel free to bring the calvary.”

He slid his finger over the end button and leaned back in the chair. “Uncle Buck was running the overall operation. I agreed to take over the part in this area to keep him off my back about all the money I owed him. Bernie was just a scape goat. I tricked him into make deliveries. He needed the money for his family. When he caught on to what was going on he tried to break loose, and I tried to blackmail him. It didn’t work and he walked. The police already had him pegged as trouble, so it was easy to set him up.”

Why was he telling her all of this? She stepped back against the corner of the wall, pulling the knife closer to her. “You can tell the police this.”

“I will, but I wanted to tell you too.”

“Someone shot Bernie Denton.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that. Is he going to be okay?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the knife. “I don’t know. Matt was with him.”

Gabe tipped his head back and laughed. “Of course he was.” He looked at her again, the smile fading. “Ah, then Bernie will live. Having McGee around is like having your own personal Jesus, right?”

Liz ignored the snarky edge to the comment. “Were you using?”

He shook his head. “Never sampled the product. Alcohol and pills are my vice. You know that.” He kicked the chair next to him out and propped a leg on it. “So, you officially with McGee now?”

She had no idea why she was standing here. She could reach the door, but part of her worried what he was really up to, if he’d grab her when she tried to run, take the knife and turn the tables on her.

“If you’re asking if I am in love with Matt, then yes I am.” Sirens sounded in the distance. “I used to think I was in love with you, but I was in love with the idea of you. Sadly, you were never what or who I thought you were.”

He snorted a brief laugh. “I wasn’t who I thought I was either.” He tapped the top of the table with his hand. “Sounds like the calvary is almost here so listen Liz, good luck with your life. With the kid. McGee. All of it.” He glanced at the door, the sirens louder now. “I’ll be in there a long time, so I won’t be messing anything up for you.”

Footsteps pounded on the steps outside and Liz lowered the knife slowly. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t running. He wasn’t reaching out for her.

He was a man beaten. He knew it and as his shoulders stooped, he even looked the part. She kept her eyes on him as she reached over and unlocked the door. It slammed open and back against the wall behind it seconds before Matt rushed into the room. Behind him were two uniformed Spencer officers, one she recognized as his former partner Tom Stapleton. The other must have been the rookie he’d mentioned to her.

Gabe brought his wrists together in front of him and held them up, his eyes still on Liz. “Cuff me, Officer McGee. I’m ready for my close up.”

Tom cuffed Gabe instead, one wrist first, while the rookie held a hand against Matt’s chest, as if to hold him back, remind him he was still on suspension.

Tom pulled Gabe to his feet, pushed him against the top of the kitchen table and pulled his arms behind him, hooking the other cuff in place.

Gabe pulled his gaze from Liz and looked up at Matt. “Look familiar, McGee? Bet you wish you had your knee in my back again, don’t you?”

Matt took a step back toward Liz as Tom pulled Gabe to a standing position and pushed him toward the front door.

Gabe tilted his head down, focused on the floor as he walked. “Take care of her, McGee. She deserves better than me.”

Liz swallowed hard, surprising herself when she told Gabe she’d pray for him.

He scoffed, head still down. “Pray all you want. I don’t believe in that crap and never will.” He swallowed hard and looked back up as Tom pushed him through the doorway. “But thanks for saying it anyhow.” He pushed back against Tom, pausing and looked at Matt, winking. “See what I mean? She deserves better.”

Matt stood in front of Liz and pulled her against him as the rookie followed Tom out the door, pulling it closed behind him. She buried her face against Matt’s chest and let out a shaky breath.

“You okay?”

She nodded, grateful for the numbness that was currently settled over her mind. “This day has been really, really weird.”

The vibrations of his laugh against her cheek made her smile. The warmth of his arms around her made her smile. Him being here when he could have been in a hospital right now fighting for his life like Bernie was made her smile. The fact she somehow wasn’t having a panic attack despite all that had happened also made her smile.

She closed her eyes as he held her and kissed the top of her head. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe and calm. Safe in Matt’s arms, safe in his love, and safe in the love of God.