Lisa R. Howeler's Blog, page 97

Fiction Thursday: A New Chapter Chapter 26

For the next three days I’m going to share the last of the chapters of A New Chapter (renamed Beauty From Ashes). The complete book will be available in full on various sites on April 26. You can pre-order it HERE or HERE.

Chapter 26

Millie Baker stared at him through the glass door of her shop, her eyes widened in curious terror. He heard the lock on the other side of the door click and the door squeaked as it opened a few inches. “Matt, what should I do? Is that young man hurt? Should I call 911?”

“Yes, Mrs. Baker. Lock the door again and get to the back of the shop and call 911. Tell them we have an active shooter, okay?”

The elderly women lowered her head and he thought he saw a tear on her cheek. Poor Millie. Gunshots weren’t something the people of Spencer ever heard on their Main Street. The world was changing, and it wasn’t something anyone was comfortable with, not even Matt who’d known for years it would all spill into this picturesque scene one day, marring its quaintness.

He turned his attention back to Bernie. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dan running toward him down the street in the direction of the coffee shop. 

“Active shooter! Everyone, get down!” Dan’s voice echoed through the street that had vacated within seconds after the gunshots sounded.

Dan kneeled next to Bernie in the doorway, looking at Matt. “Did you hear where the shots came from?”

Matt gripped the gun, looked down the street. “Somewhere low, I think. Not up from the buildings. There was an echo when it fired. Like off walls or a hallway.”

“Call it in. Tell them we need back up.” Dan’s jaw clenched as he gripped his service weapon and headed for the alley across the street. Matt used his cellphone to contact 911, pinning it between his shoulder and chin while he tried to get a better look at Bernie’s wound. Mille could report the incident, but he would need to give the police the information they needed before they came in to the scene.

Bernie groaned as Matt yanked his own jacket off while talking to the dispatcher, pressing it against Bernie’s stomach to try to stop the bleeding. “One man down, gunshot to the stomach, trooper on scene needs back up.”

“The ambulance is already on its way, Officer McGee.” The female dispatcher spoke in a calm tone. “I need to tell them if this is an active shooter situation. Is it? They won’t come in until the scene is cleared.”

Matt’s chest tightened. Bernie needed to get to the emergency room as fast as possible. “The scene is not cleared.” He hated saying it, but he couldn’t put the paramedics or anyone else at risk. “Active shooter situation. Have them set up at the end of the street.”

Stan stepped from the other side of him and kneeled next to Bernie. “What can I do?”

“Help me get his head propped up and him stretched out so I can keep pressure on the wound.”

Stan sat and slid Bernie’s head into his lap. “It’s going to be okay, kid. Hang in there.”

Stan’s eyes glistened and Matt knew it wasn’t the cold air causing it. The poor man was a real estate agent who had expected a quiet, calm day and here he was holding the head of a man who had just been shot in their usually quiet, calm town.

When Matt looked up, Reggie was running toward him, weapon drawn, the rookie and his former partner behind him.

In a few seconds it was clear their weapons weren’t needed, though, as Dan emerged from the alley with his hand gripping the back of a man’s shirt as he pushed him into the light and toward the bake shop.

 Disheveled hair fell across the man’s forehead and dark brown eyes. His mouth twisted into a snarl as Dan pushed him up against the hood of the cruiser and yanked his arms behind his back.

“You got what you deserve, Denton!” the man’s voice echoed off the buildings on Main Street. “You snitch! You can die!”

Dan pinned him to the cruiser as he hooked the cuffs. “Are you serious right now? Did you really think you’d get away with shooting a guy in broad daylight?”

The man spit toward the ground, much of it landing on the hood. “No and I don’t care. Bernie got what was coming to him for being a snitch.”

Dan yanked the man to a standing position and shoved him toward the back of the car. “And you’re going to get what’s coming to you too.”

The sound of Dan reading the man his rights were drowned out by the sound of the ambulance. Matt’s attention returned to Bernie whose head was now propped up by Stan’s winter jacket.

“They’re almost here, Bernie. Stay with me, okay?”

Bernie’s head nodded slowly, his eyes closing. “I’m still here. Hurts like hell but I’m still here.”

“You did the right thing, okay? We’re going to get Gabe and anyone else he was working with.”

“I —” Bernie winced. “I shouldn’t have taken that package. I should have known there was more going on than Gabe said.”

Barriers were being set up at the end of the street by Reggie and the state police, but they stepped back to let the ambulance through. Matt only hoped the paramedics could stop the bleeding long enough to get Bernie to a trauma unit, which was a 45-minute drive. It was a clear day. Maybe they could call in the medivac helicopter instead. Living in a rural area had clear benefits but on days like this it also had clear drawbacks.

He sat back only when the paramedics arrived and took over. Standing, he lifted his hands, his throat thickening with emotion at the sight of dark red blood staining his skin. For several seconds he couldn’t think of anything but the blood, Bernie groaning in pain, the overwhelming worry that this man who had started turning his life around wouldn’t get the chance to see his children again.

The voice of the paramedic calling for a landing point to rendezvous with the helicopter blurred with the voice of Stan asking if he was okay. The older man clapped a hand on his shoulder, shook him. “Hey, let’s get you cleaned up. Come back to my office.”

Matt moved his head back and forth slowly. “No. I’ll need to give a statement and —”

Stan’s voice deepened into a firm tone. “We’ll tell the troopers where you are going to be. Come on.”

Matt staggered back away from the scene of the paramedics gently loading Bernie onto a stretcher, turning slowly to follow Stan. He watched the blood mix with water and soap, spiral down the sink as he washed his hands a few minutes later. He lifted his hands and stared at the tremble before clenching them into a fist and reaching for the towel.

“Your trooper friend is looking for you.”

Stan’s voice sounded far away, somehow, like in a dream, but he followed him back out onto the sidewalk to look for Dan.

“Stan!”

Ginny’s voice stopped them both and they turned to see Ginny at the barrier, clutching her coat closed, anguish and worry distorting her usually calm features.

Stan waved at her dismissively. “I’m fine.”

“They said there was a shooting.” The tremble in Ginny’s voice made Matt want to hug her, but apparently Stan didn’t feel the same. “We heard the gunshots at the library.”

Stan’s tone was strained, abrupt. “I said I’m fine. I’ll fill you in later.”

The brusqueness startled Matt, but he tried not to show it. Ginny was clearly upset and worried, but Stan didn’t seem remotely interested in comforting her.

Maybe Stan was made of sterner stuff because seeing Liz walk toward the barrier with an expression on her face that told him she’d thought the ambulance had been for him broke something inside him.

The only people he’d ever had to worry about worrying about him were his parents and his siblings. It had always meant a lot that they didn’t want to see anything happen to him, but it was an entirely different situation watching the woman he’d fallen hard for almost go to pieces in front of him.

When he thought of her, he also thought of Bella and the idea that a future in law enforcement could leave them behind —Liz without a husband, Bella without a father.

Wait a minute. What am I talking about?

He wasn’t either of those things to either of them. Not yet anyhow. He couldn’t deny that he hoped to be both one day. He broke rank with Stan and stepped the barrier grabbing the front of Liz’s jacket with one hand and holding her a few inches back so Bernie’s blood that was on him wouldn’t get on her. His eyes locked with hers and realized that, yeah, he’d be proud to be Liz’s husband one day, and also honored to be Bella’s father.

He pressed his mouth against hers firmly then pulled back, keeping her at a physical distance. Her eyes trailed down his form.

“Is that your blood?” Her bottom limp trembled when she asked it. He’d only seen her that vulnerable one other time, in the front of his pickup truck with a baby covered in vernix on her chest.

He shook his head once. “Bernie’s.”

She looked up sharply, her eyes meeting his. “Wh-what happened? Did you shoot Bernie? Is he dead?”

“No.” He kissed her briefly again. “I’ll fill you in later, but right now I need to make a statement and head home to get cleaned up.”

The dealer who’d shot Bernie was in custody and Gabe would be too soon, but a sudden desire to protect Liz rushed over Matt. “Go home, okay? Can you do that? Go home and stay there until I tell you it’s okay?”

Liz’s brow dipped in confusion. “Yeah. I can do that. If Ginny says it’s okay.”

“She will. Where’s your car? Do you have your keys?”

She nodded and he could tell she was still confused.

He stepped around the barrier, placed a hand under her elbow, steered her away from the scene where more state troopers were now gathering. “Next to the library, right?”

“Matt?” She looked at him as they walked, eyes darkening with worry. “What’s going on? Are you in some kind of danger? Am I?”

He picked up the pace, knowing he needed to get back to the scene and talk to Dan. “I don’t think so, but I just want to be sure you’re somewhere safe. Where’s Bella?”

“With Mom and Dad.”

He scanned the sidewalks and buildings around them as he walked. “Good.”

She didn’t ask any more questions until they reached her car. “Does this have something to do with Gabe? Is he threatening you? Did he shoot Bernie? I can’t believe he’d shoot someone.”

“Don’t worry.” He took her keys from her trembling hands and unlocked the car, still looking around him, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

But he wasn’t sure everything was fine. He’d never pegged Gabe for a drug dealer, but it sure looked like he was based on what Bernie had recorded. Not only that, but someone had ordered Bernie taken out, and that someone could have been Gabe. Of course, there was always the possibility the shooter had just been a little off his rocker, which was also possible, especially if he’d been sampling the product.

He kissed her quickly before she slid behind the steering wheel, closed the door behind her, and when she rolled the window down he told her he’d call her as soon as he was done. He watched her drive toward her apartment before turning to walk back toward the scene. He was glad she didn’t have far to go. Maybe he should have followed her.

He dragged a hand through his hair. No. She was fine. He was over reacting. Gabe had somehow gotten himself messed up in trafficking drugs but he wasn’t a psychopath. A jerk and a horrible boyfriend, yes. A crazed maniac, no. He’d clearly been reading too many Harry Bosch novels lately.

This was Spencer Valley, not Los Angeles, and yes, while there had just been a shooting in broad daylight on Main Street, there wasn’t a full-blown crime spree underway. Not yet anyhow.

***

He shouldn’t have walked away from Ginny, but he couldn’t talk to her. Not there, in front of everyone asking him if he was okay. Of course, he was okay. It was Bernie he was worried about. The man had just been shot and his color hadn’t been good at all when they loaded him in the ambulance to meet the helicopter.

He watched the aftermath of the chaos hundred feet from his office as if watching something in a movie. Was this real? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

A shooting outside his real estate office.

There was something he never thought he’d see. The world was certainly a mess and while he once thought that mess was confined to bigger cities, it wasn’t. It was spreading out, touching even little Spencer Valley.

When he was done talking to the trooper he went back to the office, filled Emily in on what had happened and told her to go home, he was closing up for the rest of the day, maybe longer. The young woman hugged him briefly, told him to go wash up and get some rest.

Wash up. Right. He looked down at his suit and dress shirt, at the red stained there. This certainly hadn’t been his week.

First, he’d found out his wife had kissed another man and now he’d somehow gotten himself mixed up in a drug deal gone wrong. It was surreal and even more surreal was that he wasn’t going back to his house to clean up and try to calm down, he was walking toward the Blueberry Inn where his clothes were, where he’d spend the last couple of nights because, apparently, his life was falling down around his ears.

Unlocking the door to his room — after assuring the young woman at the front desk he was fine and avoiding her questions about what had happened — a rush of emotion pressed down on him. He swallowed it, though, and reached for a towel and a change of clothes. Under the hot water of the shower the dam broke and the tears came. He pressed his hands against the wall, dropped his head under the water, trying to ignore how much he wanted Ginny here with him now, the old Ginny, the Ginny he used to know, not the Ginny who’d betrayed him by kissing Keith.

“He kissed me.”

He heard the words over and over in his mind, but he didn’t know whether to believe them.

Her pleading expression, the tears on her cheeks swam in his mind as the water pounded against him.

“I wanted you to kiss me. Not him.”

He shut the water off and toweled off slowly, remembering the many slow kisses he’d given his wife over the years, thinking about how long it had been since he had, though. Exhaustion seeped through his muscles to his bones and he collapsed on the bed after pulling on a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

Images of Ginny’s worried expression at the scene filled his mind seconds before sleep slammed him hard into darkness.

Looking back at February and forward to March

I was probably supposed to post this on the last day of February, instead of the first day of March, but whatever. I’m not organized. You all know that.

So, anyhow, February was about as dull as January was for us. We were still stuck inside thanks to horrible winter weather, so we didn’t do anything exciting.

We didn’t have as much snow this winter or during February, but it seemed like we did. We actually had snow at the end of December and then two months of cold and a little bit of sleet and ice, which didn’t let much of the snow from December melt. A couple of weeks ago we received  rain which then washed all the snow into the rivers, which were full of ice already, and threatened flooding, which thankfully never came

The weather did provide some lovely photos of ice-encased on trees, which I shared on the blog and will share again here:

While we were inside, I finished writing the third novel in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series (Beauty From Ashes) and we did a lot of schoolwork. Even though we did “a lot of schoolwork” I still don’t feel like I’m teaching my children enough. It’s the curse of homeschooling parents – the whole idea that we are not doing enough. Despite not feeling like I am doing enough, Little Miss is breezing through all her reading lessons and pretty bored with her math so we’ve had to skip ahead some lessons.

She’s not very interested in history yet so I am not shoving too much at her. She’s 7, so it’s not like she’s really going to remember all of this anyhow. She’ll retain more of that information better when she’s older. That won’t stop me from teaching her history, but it does stop me from stressing that she can’t remember the first president some days even though we’ve talked about it several times. She actually does remember him most of the time but sometimes she looks at me with that deer-in-the-headlight expression and I want to throw myself to the ground and declare myself a failure.

I usually get over that feeling pretty fast. This year I have been trying to work on not stressing over homeschool work as much and realizing that a few missed days here and there isn’t the end of the world, especially if those days are for legit reasons or for reasons that will somehow enrich my children’s lives. February did not offer many opportunities for enrichment educationally-wise since it was so cold and miserable, however.

I am hopeful that March will offer us a few more educational experiences outside the home. A local children’s camp is offering science classes in March, April, and May, similar to what they offered in autumn, so that will be one area where we will be able to get out and meet other homeschool students. We did suspect that might be where we caught Covid in November but honestly, we can’t be sure and we’re not going to live in fear anymore. We’ve had Covid, I know what it can do and what to watch for so I need to move forward with my life as best as I can.

As for reading in February, I didn’t read a ton of books like some readers do, but I did finish four, which is an accomplishment for me.

I finished The Cat Who Saw Stars by Lillian Jackson Braun (not one of my favorites of hers), The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson, His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan, and Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross. I also read Little House on the Prairie with Little Miss but I’ve read that before, so I don’t really count it.

In March, I hope to read, or finish, or well, at least start, the following books:

Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison

Anything But Simple, My Life As A Mennonite by Lucinda J. Miller

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

And

Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross

I did not take a lot of photos in the month of February, for the above-mentioned reasons (mainly the cold!), but I thought I would share some that I, and my husband, took during the month.

I hope you all had a good February and have an even better March.

Looking back at February and forward at March

I was probably supposed to post this on the last day of February, instead of the first day of March, but whatever. I’m not organized. You all know that.

So, anyhow, February was about as dull as January was for us. We were still stuck inside thanks to horrible winter weather, so we didn’t do anything exciting.

We didn’t have as much snow this winter or during February, but it seemed like we did. We actually had snow at the end of December and then two months of cold and a little bit of sleet and ice, which didn’t let much of the snow from December melt. A couple of weeks ago we received  rain which then washed all the snow into the rivers, which were full of ice already, and threatened flooding, which thankfully never came

The weather did provide some lovely photos of ice-encased on trees, which I shared on the blog and will share again here:

While we were inside, I finished writing the third novel in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series (Beauty From Ashes) and we did a lot of schoolwork. Even though we did “a lot of schoolwork” I still don’t feel like I’m teaching my children enough. It’s the curse of homeschooling parents – the whole idea that we are not doing enough. Despite not feeling like I am doing enough, Little Miss is breezing through all her reading lessons and pretty bored with her math so we’ve had to skip ahead some lessons.

She’s not very interested in history yet so I am not shoving too much at her. She’s 7, so it’s not like she’s really going to remember all of this anyhow. She’ll retain more of that information better when she’s older. That won’t stop me from teaching her history, but it does stop me from stressing that she can’t remember the first president some days even though we’ve talked about it several times. She actually does remember him most of the time but sometimes she looks at me with that deer-in-the-headlight expression and I want to throw myself to the ground and declare myself a failure.

I usually get over that feeling pretty fast. This year I have been trying to work on not stressing over homeschool work as much and realizing that a few missed days here and there isn’t the end of the world, especially if those days are for legit reasons or for reasons that will somehow enrich my children’s lives. February did not offer many opportunities for enrichment educationally-wise since it was so cold and miserable, however.

I am hopeful that March will offer us a few more educational experiences outside the home. A local children’s camp is offering science classes in March, April, and May, similar to what they offered in autumn, so that will be one area where we will be able to get out and meet other homeschool students. We did suspect that might be where we caught Covid in November but honestly, we can’t be sure and we’re not going to live in fear anymore. We’ve had Covid, I know what it can do and what to watch for so I need to move forward with my life as best as I can.

As for reading in February, I didn’t read a ton of books like some readers do, but I did finish four, which is an accomplishment for me.

I finished The Cat Who Saw Stars by Lillian Jackson Braun (not one of my favorites of hers), The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson, His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan, and Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross. I also read Little House on the Prairie with Little Miss but I’ve read that before, so I don’t really count it.

In March, I hope to read, or finish, or well, at least start, the following books:

Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison

Anything But Simple, My Life As A Mennonite by Lucinda J. Miller

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

And

Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross

I did not take a lot of photos in the month of February, for the above-mentioned reasons (mainly the cold!), but I thought I would share some that I, and my husband, took during the month.

I hope you all had a good February and have an even better March.

Educationally Speaking: The many books homeschoolers have the chance to read

The curriculum I picked up for the kids this year for social studies included eight different books in Little Miss’s set and 12 in The Boy’s.  

There is no way we will be able to get through all of them in one school year. They are supposed to be read with certain units but reading them would require reading them all back-to-back and that’s a lot of reading for me (since I’d be reading them for Little Miss) and for a ninth grader, since he is also reading a lot in his textbooks.

Instead, I’ve been picking and choosing the books and putting the others aside for future school years.

So far this year, Little Miss and I have read Freedom Crossing, Benjamin West and His Cat Grimalkin, Tolliver’s Secret, and Emily’s Imagination. We had already read Farmer Boy, which is what we are supposed to be reading for this current unit, so we are reading it again. We read Emily’s Imagination, but I hadn’t even noticed it was on the list when I chose it to read. We haven’t even reached the unit where we are supposed to read it.

Other books in her set included:

Mountain Born by Elizabeth Yates, The Year of Miss Agnes by Kirkpatrick Hill, Katy by Mary Evelyn Notgrass.

I’m hoping to read a couple more before the end of the school year and so far, I think The Year of Miss Agnes looks interesting so we will probably get to that one, if not the other two. She and I already read quite a few books during the year, and we’re also probably not going to finish this curriculum for this school year because we don’t do history every day. This history is very detailed and I add supplemental material, such as videos, to the lessons to make them a little more expansive.

For The Boy, we have already read Blood Brothers by Elias Chacour and A Long Walk to Water, as well as part of Know Why You Believe by Paul Little. We also read some other literature in our American Literature book. Right now, we are reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Before the end of the school year, I am hoping to have us read at least two more books if not three.

The books that interest me the most include Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat, Revolution is Not a Dinner Party by Ying Chang Compestine, and Tales from Silver Lands by Charles Finger.

Here are the descriptions for those three:

Lost in the Barrens: Awasin and Jamie, brothers in courage, meet a challenge many mountain men could not endure.  When their canoe is destroyed by the fury of the rapids, they must face the wilderness with no food and no hope of rescue.  To survive, they build an igloo, battle a towering grizzly bear, track several wolves, slaughter caribou for food and clothing.  Two lost huskies they tame bring companionship–and maybe a way home from their dangerous adventure.

Revolution is Not a Dinner Party: The summer of 1972, before I turned nine, danger began knocking on doors all over China.

Nine-year-old Ling has a very happy life. Her parents are both dedicated surgeons at the best hospital in Wuhan, and her father teaches her English as they listen to Voice of America every evening on the radio. But when one of Mao’s political officers moves into a room in their apartment, Ling begins to witness the gradual disintegration of her world. In an atmosphere of increasing mistrust and hatred, Ling fears for the safety of her neighbors, and soon, for herself and her family. For the next four years, Ling will suffer more horrors than many people face in a lifetime. Will she be able to grow and blossom under the oppressive rule of Chairman Mao? Or will fighting to survive destroy her spirit—and end her life?

Tales from Silver Lands: Tales from Silver Lands is a book by Charles Finger that won the Newbery Medal in 1925. The book is a collection of nineteen folktales of the native populations of Central and South America. These interesting folk stories include tales about giants, witches, and animals.

What is fun about reading these books to or with the kids is that I get to read them as well. There are books in these lists that I never would have read because I never would have heard about some of them otherwise.

Last year I read Silas Marner, which I really enjoyed, but never would have read on my own. Choosing to homeschool is a joint decision, so the children can decide to switch to public school in the future if they want to, but I’m hoping they’ll choose to continue if only so I have no excuse not to read some classics. *wink*

Sunday Bookends: Love for Miss Julia, more reading and less watching, and a New Zealand theme this week

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

What’s Been Occurring

Last Sunday we visited my parents, and my dad actually watched a movie with us, after he took the kids to their frozen pond to do some ice skating. Dad doesn’t usually sit in one place for a movie but he really enjoyed The Finest Hours with Chris Pine and Casey Affleck, which I mentioned I had watched last week. He barely moved from the spot on the couch. I had a feeling he might like this one based on his service in the Air Force, and while this movie didn’t deal with men in the Air Force, it did focus on men working together in a sort of branch of the military (the Coast Guard).

We will not be visiting my parents today because Little Miss and I caught a cold late last week. Friday and Saturday was spent blowing noses, drinking tea and her crying because her throat hurt so bad. I cried because I had a horrendous burning in my nose that results in my eye and nose pouring liquid. Lots of fun.

Before anyone asks, no, I don’t believe we have been re-infected with the dreaded virus. This definitely feels more cold-like and less bioweapon-like.

I figure we picked it up when I took Little Miss to her first gymnastics class on Monday. We had not left the house much before that, other than her weekly Awana class. Part of the reason we didn’t leave was the continuing weird Pennsylvania weather. It’s been cold and snowy and then rainy and warm. I’m waiting for it all to settle a little bit before we plan any major outings.

During the week we did schoolwork and I finished editing on Beauty From Ashes, then realized that I had not finished the final chapter. Sigh. So, while battling a burning nose that felt like it might explode, I worked on that on Saturday, so I can send the book out to my critique group and to a couple of editors this week to get it ready for the April 26 release date.

If you are interested in serving on the launch team for the Beauty From Ashes team, you can apply HERE. There isn’t a lot of commitment to this, other than agreeing to share about the book on your social media sites. Anyone on the launch team will receive an advanced copy of the book in digital form (via Bookfunnel).

In addition to writing and blowing my nose, I also watched what was unfolding in Ukraine with deep sadness. Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs, wrote a beautiful post that sums up what I am sure many of us are feeling about this conflict.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I finished Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross yesterday. I will be reading more of the Miss Julia series. I really enjoyed the book. It was a type of cozy mystery.

Here is a description:

Everyone loves the irrepressible Miss Julia. Her latest triumph is getting Hazel Marie and J. D. Pickens to the altar before it becomes too obvious that they’re expecting twins! But why has Sam agreed that he and Julia will attend the odious Dr. Fowler’s marital enrichment sessions? Could Sam feel their flames need fanning? Meanwhile, this lady of a certain age must spring Etta Mae from jail when she’s wrongly accused of attacking Francie Pitts. With a fragrant felon to be caught- plus a wedding, babies, and a heaping dose of mischief-it’s fortunate for all that Miss Julia’s on the case.

This is the eleventh book in the series, so I plan to go find the first book in the series so I can start reading them in order.

My husband picked this and three others in the series up for me at a local library book sale.

I am in the middle of Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison, which releases this week. Here is a description for that book:

She is willing to testify against her trafficker.
If she can stay alive that long.

“You’re safe here, Starr.”
How many times has Detective Cole Blacksky said that to her since helping her escape the life she’d been forced into eight years earlier?
Starr desperately wants to believe him, but she knows Brady Erickson, her former captor, too well. Although Cole has promised her protective custody on his family’s remote ranch, no place on earth is safe enough. Brady will stop at nothing to permanently silence her before she ever reaches the witness stand.
And he is powerful enough to do it.
If Starr wants to help the other women, she has no choice but to put herself in God’s hands. And Cole’s. But the longer she and Cole stay hidden, the more her life is at risk.
And her heart.

I finished His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan last night and hope to finish Sara’s book this week.

Once I finish her book, I will be delving further into Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz, which I opened to see if I would like it. I definitely like it and am anxious to get into it more.

Here is the description, but I am sure any Sherlock Holmes fans have an idea what it might be about:

Internationally bestselling author Anthony Horowitz’s nail-biting new novel plunges us back into the dark and complex world of detective Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty—dubbed the Napoleon of crime” by Holmes—in the aftermath of their fateful struggle at the Reichenbach Falls.

Days after the encounter at the Swiss waterfall, Pinkerton detective agent Frederick Chase arrives in Europe from New York. Moriarty’s death has left an immediate, poisonous vacuum in the criminal underworld, and there is no shortage of candidates to take his place—including one particularly fiendish criminal mastermind.

Chase and Scotland Yard Inspector Athelney Jones, a devoted student of Holmes’s methods of investigation and deduction originally introduced by Conan Doyle in “The Sign of Four”, must forge a path through the darkest corners of England’s capital—from the elegant squares of Mayfair to the shadowy wharfs and alleyways of the London Docks—in pursuit of this sinister figure, a man much feared but seldom seen, who is determined to stake his claim as Moriarty’s successor.

A riveting, deeply atmospheric tale of murder and menace from one of the only writers to earn the seal of approval from Conan Doyle’s estate,  Moriarty  breathes life into Holmes’s dark and fascinating world.

The Boy started Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson this week and Little Miss and I are reading Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder (again).

What We watched/are Watching

I watched another episode of Brokenwood and really enjoyed it. It is a crime/mystery show set in New Zealand. The episodes are all about 90 minutes long, so it takes an investment each time we watch one.

I don’t really remember watching much else this past week. I tried to focus on reading and finishing the book instead. However, this next week I hope to lose myself in some stories, including The Sister Boniface Mysteries, which is a spin-off The Father Brown Mysteries on Britbox.

We did watch one episode of the latest season of Death in Paradise and it was okay, but that show has lost some of its appeal for me since they are on their fourth DI (detective inspector) and this is a tiny island but has one of the highest crime records I have ever seen.

What I’m Writing

As I mentioned above, I am finishing up all the edits for Beauty From Ashes.

After I send the book out to the critique group and editors, I will be taking a break and then I will start plotting book four and another novella I have an idea for.

I did not write any other posts on the blog this week because of working on the book and because of the cold.

I do have some ideas for blog posts this week and I hope to tackle them and actually getting them written. I should have more time for blog posts with the book finally finished.

What I’m Listening To

This week the husband turned me on to a new-to-me worship artist, Brooke, Ligertwood, who released her new album this past week. I have been listening to her and also to Mel Parsons from New Zealand who I found while watching Brokenwood. Watching the show and listening to her helpe me continue the New Zealand theme.

Now it’s your turn

So that is my week in review. How about you? What are you reading, writing, doing, listening to, yadda, yadda? Let me know in the comments and leave a link if you already do a post similar to this one.

Special Fiction Saturday: A New Chapter Chapter 25

Here is a special extra chapter from Beauty From Ashes, or A New Chapter for the sake of the blog. We are almost to the end! I mentioned yesterday that the book releases April 26. If you want to pre-order it, you can do so HERE, or HERE but I am also going to be offering to send a copy to my blog readers for free once I have the final version.

If any of you are interested in being on the launch team for the book, you can sign-up HERE. Signing up doesn’t require a large commitment. I just ask that you share the information I will send you about the book on your social media sites leading up to the release of the book and afterwards. In exchange for your help, you will receive a free ebook copy of the book. If you have the opportunity to leave a review of the book on the various sites it will be on sale on, that would be nice too.

Feel free to let me know what you think about this latest chapter in the comments.

Chapter 25

The crisp morning air was helping to wake Matt up, but he knew a cup of coffee from the Community Cup coffee shop would help even more. Sure, he’d had coffee at home, but not with the fancy foam on top that made everything better. Maybe the barista, Wendy, would even swirl a heart into the whip cream for him like she normally did.

Liz’s comments about him being beloved by the town snuck into his mind as he walked. He’d never considered himself someone women flirted with and it had never occurred to him that maybe Wendy had been flirting all this time until now. Oh. He probably shouldn’t have winked all those times and told her she was his favorite barista ever. He’d have to be more careful about sending mixed signals from now on. The only one he wanted to send signals to was Liz.

“Matt!”

He turned at the sound of Stan’s voice from across the street and raised his hand in a greeting. Stan waved him over. Looked like the coffee would, unfortunately, have to wait.

“Hey.” Stan stepped aside to allow Matt into the real estate office, the other desks in the main office empty. “You got a minute?”

“Sure. I’m sure you’ve heard that I have more than a minute these days.”

Stan winced. “Yeah. When I first heard about it, I thought it was because we’d been sneaking around that building.” He gestured toward his office in the back. “Coffee?”

It wasn’t Community Cup coffee, but — “Sure. I could use another cup.”

Stan poured two mugs from a coffee pot that looked like it had seen better days. “Hate to say this, but in a way I’m glad you decked that Martin guy. No one deserved it more than him. I know it’s not the Christian thing to say, but sometimes I feel like if some of these kids had been paddled more as children they wouldn’t have turned out to be such awful adults.”

Matt took the mug of coffee and sat in a chair across from Stan’s desk. “You might be right.”

“Speaking of Martin, I have some news about who owns the abandoned building.” Stan slid a sheet of paper across his desk as he sat down. “Terry ‘Buck’ Simms.”

Matt made a face. “Who?”

“Buck Simms was a business owner who used to live here.” Stan sipped from his coffee and winced, then stood and poured creamer into the sludge. “Owned several buildings, warehouses, a few stores and essentially became a small-town slum lord. All those houses they tore down on the other side of the tracks last year were once his. He never took care of them, didn’t help the tenants, charged them crazy rent. He moved away from here about ten years ago. The deed is still in his name.”

Matt nodded. “Okay. That’s great. Once the property is released from the police, maybe you can track him down and he’ll sell the land.”

Stan leaned forward on the desk, shoulders stooped. The sunlight streaking in through the window hit his face and Matt noticed the puffy skin under his eyes, and the pale pallor to his skin for the first time.

“That could be a problem. No one has been able to find Buck in ten years. The council tried to track him down years ago to get those buildings either fixed up or torn down. They finally seized them through a court order after Buck never responded to all the messages sent to his last known address somewhere in Montana.” He took the paper again, pondered it and sat back in his chair. “Here’s the other thing. Some of Buck’s family still lives here in Spencer.”

Matt took a longer sip of the coffee. He didn’t know what brand Stan was brewing but it was certainly waking him up. “So maybe we can track them down, find Buck, and get the property signed over.”

“Again, might be a problem. It took me a bit, but I finally remembered who Buck was related to. Gabe. On his mom’s side. He’s Gabe’s great uncle.”

Matt set the mug down on the desk. “Oh. Okay, well that does change things.”

“Yeah, it does.”

It also makes Bernie’s story a lot more believable, Matt thought as he stared into the coffee mug.

The opening of the front door startled both men.

“Must be Emily. I gave her the morning off. Her mom’s been sick, and she’s been taking care of her.” He looked at his watch and quirked an eyebrow. “She’s a little early, though.”

It wasn’t Stan’s secretary who stood in the doorway of Stan’s office a few seconds later, though. Mud streaked across Bernie’s cheek and dark circles marked the skin under his eyes. A hole was ripped in the knee of his jeans, and he was breathing hard.

“Matt, I need to talk to you.”

Matt set his coffee mug down. “Yeah, I need to talk to you too.” He stood and gestured toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”

Bernie shook his head, stepped into the office, and shut the door. “No way. The cops are looking for me, but I’m guessing you know that by now.”

Matt glanced at Stan whose coffee mug was half to his mouth, his eyes focused on Bernie.

“Why don’t we let Stan head out then?”

Bernie shook his head. “No. I don’t want him calling the cops. Not until I talk to you.”

Bernie sat in the chair across from Stan’s desk. Matt remained standing, leaning back against a bookcase on the far wall. “Why did you run, Bern? Were those drugs yours?”

Bernie shook his head vigorously. “No. No. They were planted. I’m telling you the truth, Matt, just like I was telling you the truth about Gabe. I’ve got proof now too.”

Matt folded his arms across his chest. He wasn’t sure he was buying this story. “Where?”

“On my phone.” Bernie thrust the phone toward him. “I also emailed it to myself and uploaded it to the cloud for safe keeping. I ran because there was a meet up with Gabe and another dealer and I knew if I told the cops they wouldn’t believe me. I heard the other guy talking about it when I was leaving after I dropped that package off. I didn’t know if it was still going down but I needed to try. I had to get the proof, get myself off the hook. Gabe saw me, though, and now they’re all after me — the cops, Gabe and the other guy he was with. At this point it’s just a matter of who gets to me first.”

Stan set his mug down. Matt could tell he was bewildered, maybe even a bit anxious, but he was hanging in there. He looked less freaked out than when they’d found the drugs at least.

Matt took the phone and pushed play on the video.

Great. That was definitely Gabe with another guy at a building that looked similar to the abandoned one. He couldn’t make out every word they were saying but Gabe was gesturing toward packages that looked a lot like heroin and the man across from him was shouting back, something about “It’s not my fault if your mules are incompetent!”

He kept his eyes on the screen as Gabe took a stack of cash from the man. “We need to get this to the state police.”

Gabe turned toward the camera seconds before it went black. “How did you get away?”

Bernie ran his hands along his jeans, letting out a breath. “I had a head start. It was dark where I was, I didn’t think he saw me, just heard the twig break under me when I stepped back. I was in my car and part way down the road when I heard him yelling. There was a couple of gunshots, but I kept driving. I hid out at Lover’s Valley until about 3 a.m. and then I walked to your place and waited behind your woodshed but fell asleep.” He laughed softly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Some criminal I am, huh? Anyhow, when I woke up you were pulling out, so I took the risk and followed you to town. I knew you’d listen.”

Matt glanced out the window. “You think anyone followed you?”

Bernie leaned back in the chair, shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not really very good at this criminal stuff. You should know that better than anyone.”

Matt huffed out a small laugh. He was right. Professional criminal Bernie was not. Nailing him for the burglary and all the other petty crimes he’d committed had been fairly easy all those years ago.

Stan stood and separated the blinds with his fingers. “I don’t know if Bernie was followed by Gabe or the other guy, but there’s a trooper pulling up across the street.”

Matt stood behind him, looked over his shoulder. “That’s Dan. He’s probably looking for me to see if we found out any more about who owns the building.”

Behind them Bernie stood, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. “Is he coming here? He can’t come here. I can’t get caught.”

Matt turned to face him. “Bern, you’ve got proof.”

“Not that those drugs aren’t mine.” He slid his hands behind his back and when he pulled them in front of him one was holding a 9 mm. “I’m also not supposed to have this. I’m on probation.”

Stan scowled, his hands still on the blinds. “Then why do you?”

“For protection.” He tipped his head up toward the ceiling, sucking in a breath. “It was my dad’s. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t know what I was going to face when I got to that meet up.”

Matt watched Dan climb out of the police vehicle and head across the street toward the office. “We don’t have much time here. We need to make a decision. Pretty sure Dan knows I’m in here. Not sure about you.”

Bernie paced in the small office space between the chair and the bookcase, the gun in his hand. “He’s not going to listen. I know he’s not. If I keep you guys in here, maybe then he’ll stop long enough to listen.”

This situation was going to bad to very bad in a very short amount of time. “Bernie, you’re not thinking clearly. It’s just Dan looking for me to discuss the case. You’ve already run from the state police and now you’re going to hold me and Stan hostage? If we have any chance of getting you out of all this and keeping you out of jail, then I’d advise you not to even think of that scenario.”

Bernie stopped pacing and looked at Matt. “Yeah, I know. It’s stupid. I don’t want to do that. I just need some time.”

Matt walked toward the door. “I’m going to stop him in the front of the office. We just need to talk to him, show him the video. We’ll figure the rest out later. If he can get to Gabe, then maybe he can get him to fess up to trying to set you up for the fall.”

Bernie clutched at the hair at the top of his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think this is going to work.”

Matt held his hand up. “Stay calm, Bern, and put that gun away. You’re not helping your case right now.”

Bernie’s eyes flicked toward the gun, and he nodded, stashing it in the back of his jeans again.

Matt stepped out of Stan’s office, pulling the door closed behind him, at the same moment Dan stepped in.

“McGee.” Dan nodded in the curt way the way state troopers do, which always made Matt wonder if the hat made their heads too heavy to nod normally.

“Trooper McCallister.”

“I thought I saw your truck down the street and took a hunch you might be meeting with Jefferies. Has he got anything on the building owner?” He propped one hand on his duty belt and leaned his hip against Emily’s desk with the other.

“He does, but I’m finishing up another meeting in here. Can we meet at the coffee shop in a few minutes?”

Matt caught a flash of suspicion in Dan’s eyes as he glanced at the closed door over Matt’s shoulder, but he nodded that curt node again. “Sure. Ten minutes?”

Matt tried the curt nod and had to admit it was a bit more efficient and easier on the neck in some ways. “Yep. Perfect.”

Dan turned toward the front door, hesitated and turned back toward Matt again. “Everything okay in here?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah. Totally fine. Just some private real estate business.”

He hated lying but he needed a couple more minutes to convince Bernie it was in his best interest to talk to Dan.

Dan narrowed his eyes but he reached for the handle of the front door. “Okay, then, see you in a bit.”

He walked out but Matt could tell he didn’t believe him. A good cop wouldn’t, and Dan was a good cop. His instinct had kicked in, which meant Matt didn’t have long to talk Bernie into turning himself in and working out a deal with the staties.

When he entered the office Bernie was pacing again, rubbing his fingernails across his front teeth, looking at the floor. Stan was sitting at his desk watching him, his arms folded across his chest, his brow furrowed. Matt was sure this wasn’t how he’d expected to spend his morning. He’d already looked exhausted before Bernie walked in. He was looking completely beat down now.

Matt sat on the edge of the desk. “Okay, Bern, here is the deal. I’m meeting with Dan down at the coffee shop down the street in ten minutes. I want you to come with me and talk to him. It might mean you being taken into custody for a short time but —”

Bernie looked up sharply and shook his head. “No. I can’t go back to jail.”

Matt held up his hand. “Calm down. They’ll just need to question you. I’m going to vouch for you, show Dan the video and convince him that you’re not involved other than delivering that one package.” He leaned forward slightly, returning his hand to a position in the crook of his arm. “That’s all you did, correct.”

“Yes!” Bernie’s tone denoted his frustration and he tossed up his hands. “That’s it. I swear to you.”

Matt crossed one ankle over the other, doing his best to appear relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it. “Then you’ll be fine. We’re going to walk down there together and work this out. I’m going to have your back, okay?”

Bernie had been lied to a lot in the past. Matt was sure of that. He also knew that trust was a hard thing to have when so many had broken that trust before. “I know it is going to take a huge leap of faith for you to trust the guy who arrested you in the past.” He tipped his chin up to keep his eyes focused on Bernie’s. “But I need you to trust me that want to help keep you on the right track and bring you home to your kids. Let me help you, okay?”

Bernie let go of the hair he’d been clutching on the top of his head and stopped packing. He looked up at Matt, locked eyes with him, and inclined his head in agreement. “Okay.” His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed hard. “I trust you. Let’s go do this.”

Matt gestured toward the door, tipped his head toward Stan. “Wish us luck. I’ll be in touch about what I find out about the property.”

Stan nodded back, concern clouding his eyes. “I’d appreciate it.”

Matt set his shoulders back, hoped he looked more confident than he felt at the moment. Would Dan accept Bernie’s explanation? Or would he slap the cuffs on him before Bernie could even speak? He held the door for Bernie and then followed him out onto the sidewalk.

He slid his sunglasses on as the sun came out from behind a cloud and then zipped his jacket up to his chin when a cool breeze brushed across his skin. The coffee shop was only a block away and Bernie wasn’t enough of a wanted man they couldn’t walk that far in broad daylight.

The round of gunshots that exploded beside and around him in the next second sent a bolt of shock through him and left his ears ringing. He grabbed Bernie’s shoulder and shoved him to the sidewalk, reaching for the handgun gun strapped to his ankle. The revolver was his personal gun and the only one he had since he was on suspension. He clutched the back of Bernie’s shirt and dragged him backward into the doorway of Millie’s bakeshop, frantically scanning the parked cars and the second story windows in the buildings across the street.

Two people walking out of the diner down the street, ducked back inside and he watched the front window fill with curious, and frightened, onlookers. A groan next to him pulled him from his surveillance and he looked down to see Bernie crouched over, clutching his stomach, red dripping through his fingers and staining the concrete doorway of the bakery.

Fiction Friday: A New Chapter Chapter 24

We are getting toward the end of this one and toward the release date for the final book. If you want to pre-order the book you can do so HERE and HERE.

If you want to catch up with the rest of the story click HERE.

Chapter 24

Matt rolled over in bed and groaned as pain shot up through his back. Splitting wood for two days in a row was definitely a lot harder on his body than most days as a police officer in Spencer Valley. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to splitting wood. It was that he usually did it in smaller spurts, not two days straight. But what else did he have to do until the investigation into his incident with Gabe was over? He’d already cleaned out the fridge and Alex’s messes, picked up his deer from the butcher and loaded that in the freezer, and been to the gym every day this week, despite hating every second of working out.

Eventually, he was going to have to accept the fact there was a very good possibility he wasn’t going to be a cop much longer and start looking for a new job. Looking out of the area wasn’t an option now since it would mean leaving Liz and Bella, unless, of course, they wanted to go with him.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms over his head, wincing as muscles he’d forgotten he’d ever had protested their overuse the day before.

Even answering his phone when it rang sent pain shooting up through his biceps and shoulder. “Yeah?”

“McGee. Got a problem.”

Dan. Great. Now what?

“What’s up?”

“Your buddy Bernie took off on us when we tried to question him about the drug cave.”

Matt rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes to chase away the sleep. “Took off? What do you mean?”

“Took us for a run in the woods, jumped in some old junker, and took off. He was gone before we could get back to our cars. Any idea where he might have gone?”

“No idea.”

“Keep an eye out for him, will you? Because we got a search warrant and found about five kilos of heroin in a shed on his property. It’s clear he was trying to throw you off the scent by implicating Martin.

Matt pressed his hand against his forehead. No way. Bernie couldn’t be that stupid. “It could have been planted.”

Dan let out a breath. “Listen, bud, I know you want to think this guy turned his life around. We all wish that would happen with the guys we arrest but more times than not, it doesn’t. Just let me know if he contacts you, okay?”

“I definitely will. Anything more on Gabe?”

Dan sighed. “Not yet, but we’ll keep looking. Did you find out who owns that building through your real estate friend? I haven’t had a chance to get over to the register and recorder’s office.”

Matt stood and opened his dresser, pulling out a T-shirt. “Yeah, Stan said it belongs to a … “

Dan took a sip on the other end of the phone and Matt imagined it was coffee since he was an avid coffee drinker. “I know you have your heart set on it being Gabe, but all the evidence is pointing toward Bernie. Why else would the drugs be in his shed, for one, and two, why else would he run?”

Matt trapped the phone between his shoulder and chin while he pulled a pair of jeans over his boxers. “Afraid of going back to jail for one. He’s married now with a couple of kids.”

“He should have thought of that before he stored all those drugs in his shed. The running makes him look even guiltier. Just call me if you see him.”

The line went dead, and Matt tossed the phone on his bed.

He needed coffee if he was going to be able to tackle the rest of this day.

A lot of coffee.

***

Ginny’s hands shook as she poured coffee into a travel mug. It wasn’t helping her situation that her mind was racing and causing her heart to do the same, or that she hadn’t slept more than three hours the night before. The bed had been cold and lonely. Physically this time. For years it had been cold and lonely emotionally but having it cold and lonely both physically and emotionally had been almost too much to bear.

She’d considered calling Liz more than once, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Liz was in a place of happiness at the moment, swept up in newly discovered love, or more accurately newly admitted love. Calling to dump all her emotional baggage on the poor young woman seemed cruel.

“I really need to get some friends my age.” The words came out of her softly, even though she knew no one else would hear her. Stan had kept true to his word and spent the night away from home, hopefully at the Blueberry Inn. Olivia was most likely still asleep and even the cat had chosen the warmth of the comforter on her freshly made bed over watching her mope around the kitchen this morning.

“Having friends your own age is highly overrated.”

Ginny jumped and almost screamed at the sound of her daughter’s voice behind her. “Olivia!” She swung to face her. “Where did you come from?”

Olivia walked past her on the way to the refrigerator, turned her head and winked. “Your womb, my dear lady.”

Ginny shook her head, laughing. “Very funny, young lady.”

Olivia snatched up the cream cheese and a carton of milk. “What’s all this menopausal depression this morning? All this worrying about not having friends your age?”

Ginny smiled faintly and returned to packing her lunch. “Oh, just lamenting the loss of friendships over the years, I suppose.”

Olivia took a bagel out of the bread box, broke it, and slid it into the toaster. “But you have Liz. It shouldn’t matter she’s not your age. Having friends of different ages, sexes, and backgrounds, gives you different perspectives on things, right?”

Ginny zipped her bag closed. “Well, that’s an interesting way to look at it. I guess I was just thinking that sometimes we are in different stages in our lives so sometimes we might not be able to relate to each other.”

Olivia poured a glass of juice and took a sip. “What can’t Liz relate to that’s going on in your life right now?” She turned away from the counter and leaned back against it, her eyebrow cocking like a revolver. “Tell me, Mom. What’s going on right now that you’re worried to talk to Liz about?”

Ginny smiled, shook her head twice, and reached for her jacket. She couldn’t tell her daughter what was going on. Not yet anyhow, not unless Stan demanded a divorce. Then, of course, she’d have to tell her. But for now, she simply couldn’t let her daughter know what she’d done, the horrible mistake she’d made. She looked at Olivia, who was looking at her and took a deep breath. Olivia was so young, so beautiful, so bright. She had her whole future in front of her. Maybe she did need to know what mistakes her mother had made over the years, including last week. Maybe then she wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

“Keith kissed me last week when we went out to dinner. I didn’t want him to, didn’t expect it, and I told him I didn’t appreciate it. Your father found out before I could talk to him and was very upset. That’s why he wasn’t here last night for dinner and why he hasn’t been home all night.”

Olivia’s eyebrows rose in unison this time. Her mouth dropped slightly open, and she leaned forward and snorted a gasp. “Are you serious?”

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

Ginny sucked in a breath. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, I am serious.”

Olivia’s eyes stayed wide as she slumped back against the counter, her arms at her sides. “Wow. Okay, well, I knew something was going on but I did not expect that.” She whistled and looked at the floor for a moment before looking back at her mom. “So, what’s the deal? Do you still love Dad or what?”

“Of course I love your dad!” Tears filled Ginny’s eyes. “More than I ever have.” She touched a fingertip against the corner of her eye to catch a tear before it ran and messed up her makeup. “I think it took all this to make me realize that.”

Oliva bit her lower lip for a brief moment before asking, “He’s been ignoring you lately, hasn’t he?”

Ginny’s lower lip quivered in a silent answer as she looked away from her daughter. She shrugged a shoulder. “He’s been busy.” Her gaze drifted out the kitchen window, into the neighbor’s yard where a hummingbird was hovering at a feeder under the edge of the porch roof. She looked back at Olivia. “But that is no excuse. I never should have been alone with Keith or swept up by his charm and sweetness, the way he noticed my hair when your father didn’t or seemed to be excited about going out to dinner with me.” She rolled her eyes. “Unlike your father.”

The toaster popped up and Oliva turned and began to spread the cream cheese on the bagel. “Mom, listen. I understand. You felt neglected. It makes sense how you lost sight of who you are for a few moments.”

 It was clear Oliva was missing the point. Ginny needed to be sure she didn’t miss the point.

“But it doesn’t matter if I felt neglected. I made a commitment to stay with your father through it all — the good and the bad, sickness and health. All of that. Liv, look at me.”

Olivia turned partway from the counter. “I made vows with your father. That’s important, okay?”

Oliva set the butterknife down and turned to face Ginny. “Yes, Mom. I do. Really.” She walked to Ginny and slid her arms around her. “I know. I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I understand. I know you made a mistake. You know you made a mistake.” She leaned back, placing a hand on her mom’s shoulders. “Dad should understand that too and listen to you. Did you tell him how much you still love him? That you didn’t want the kiss from Keith?”

Ginny nodded. “Yes, and he still walked away.”

Olivia sighed. “Give him time. That’s all he needs. If he can just see that part of this is his fault, then maybe he’ll realize he’s also part of the solution.”

Ginny slid her coat on and began to button it closed. “I hope so. For now, though, I need to head to the library. I have to meet Liz and brainstorm plans for the new story hour we’re going to start and finish the final details for the fundraiser next month and — oh!” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness! I forgot to order the cake for Clint and Tiffany’s homecoming party.”

Oliva buttoned the top button on Ginny’s coat and patted her shoulder. “Mom, calm down. I’ll order the cake. What am I ordering? Who am I calling? Give me all the details and I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, honey, thank you. I would appreciate it. I’ll text you the details when I get to the library. I need to go unlock it so Liz and Sarah can get in.” She blew out a breath. “And hopefully no one else.”

Sunday Bookends: Pennsylvania may be menopausal, light reads, and Chris Pine’s bushy eyebrows

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

This week I read a book for a writer friend that she is releasing later this year. It is a second-chance romance and I enjoyed it. I’ll be sure to mention it again when it officially releases. The author is Milla Holt.

I’ve also been reading Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Goss and I am enjoying the light (very light) mystery and humor.

At night on the Kindle, I am reading His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan, who I am in a writing group with. She publishes through Harlequin’s Love Inspired books.

I might finish those books this week (doubt it) and if I do, I will be starting a romance by another author I’m in a writing group with and finishing a book for a book tour. That’s the plan anyhow, but like I told some writer/reader people this week, I have book ADD sometimes. I pick up a book to see if I like the first couple of paragraphs, get hooked, and forget about the other books I was reading.

Off and on, for a while anyhow, I will also be reading from The Mitford Bedside Companion by Jan Karon, which was a gift from the husband for Valentine’s Day.

The Hubby is reading Wolf Pack by CJ Box as I write this but will probably be done with it by the time it goes on the blog. Oh and he is done before I even finish the post so he is currently in between books.

The Boy finished A Long Walk to Water last week and will start Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson this week for literature.

Little Miss and I are reading Little House on the Prairie again. Sigh. Hopefully, she will let me move on to another book soon.

What’s Been Occurring

Pennsylvania went all Whatever Happened to Baby Jane on us this week by throwing in warm weather, arctic weather, rain, snow squalls, high winds, flooding, ice jams, and a small amount of sun. The fun will continue this week as the rumor is that we are going to be hit with another ice storm at the end of the week.

The snow that had been on the ground for the past two months or so melted all in one day, rushing to the rivers and creeks, but those rivers and creeks were full of ice, which broke up and jammed along the banks.

This photo was taken by my husband who texted it to me along with this photo:

with the caption, “the things I do for my job.”

Apparently, he walked across the ice jam to get this photo, which is just great and something I’m glad I didn’t know until after the fact or I would have been freaking out.

Little Miss and I spent Monday night at my parents, at the request of Little Miss, who wanted to spend the night but didn’t want to stay alone. We ate dinner, played a game called aggravation, and then Little Miss and her grandpa made pancakes together the next morning. It was a nice start to the week.

The view from my parents.

Saturday stuck the area in a holding pattern as snow squalls decided to slide in and out of the area, bringing spontaneous periods of white-out conditions for anyone out on the roads that would quickly be replaced with blue skies and bright sunshine.

The rest of the week after that was sort of all over the place due to the weather but also taking our dog to a vet appointment for her vaccinations and an unexpected dentist appointment for Little Miss that got moved up from March because they had an opening. I kept waiting for a day where I didn’t feel like my brain was being pulled several different directions but that didn’t seem to happen, especially after Tuesday when I learned a friend I had not had contact with in a while (for the reason that sometimes people drift apart and just don’t make contact as often as they used to) died in a house fire.

The friend would have been 80 this year. His wife died in 2018 and I thought he had moved to live closer to his daughter and grandson. Apparently, he had moved back to our area, and I didn’t even realize it. How awful is that? Not that he had ever contacted me either, but I still feel guilty. Seeing an old photo of him along with what remained of his home on the front of my husband’s paper was hard to see Thursday and I ended up falling into a deep depression for the rest of the week. I’m still there if I am going to be honest. It’s been a hard couple of months with losing friends and dealing with other hard things. Most of the time I was able to shove the sadness down, but Thursday I couldn’t seem to anymore and spent much of the evening breaking into sobbing fits for no reason.

Yesterday (or today as I am writing this) my husband and I planned to go out to dinner at a café near us and then visit the local library, which has a bookstore in the back, but my husband realized he’s been driving non-stop for work all week and was simply too mentally spent to go. Instead, we ordered food from one of the only restaurants in town, stayed home, and watched movies while the wind raged outside. We are hoping to take our trip out of town when spring comes.

A little update on the parosmia (this is when a person’s smell and taste is distorted from a virus, such as the nasty one we’ve been dealing with in the world the last two years, sometimes making food smell and taste rotten or like sewage) issue I asked for prayer for last week, or the week before: The smell remains for me on many days, but not all. Some foods are still off limit for me, including garlic, onion, (and any seasoning with those in it), and peanut butter (dear, Lord, the smell and taste of that for me is absolutely repulsive and it is the same for The Boy!). I can’t use my favorite Italian salad dressing on my salads because it has the same indescribable taste and smell and sometimes even meat has the taste and smell, though much milder than it did about two weeks ago. Last week was fairly good but today (or yesterday as you read this) was a bad day as a lot of the food I ate had that nasty flavor.

Thank you for the prayers and please pray for others also dealing with this, many of them with worse issues, to the point they can’t eat without throwing up from the stench and taste. This condition can also be caused by any virus, chemotherapy, and polyps, just for a little extra information (that you probably didn’t care about but may need to know in the future, though I hope not).

What We watched/Are Watching

It often takes me a couple of days to finish a movie if I am watching it on my own because I keep getting interrupted, which was the case with The Finest Hours, which I watched Thursday AND Friday of this past week. I watched it at the suggestion of Susan May Warren, an author who teaches for Novel Academy or My Book Therapy, a writing site I am a part of. If any of you read Christian fiction, especially Christian romance, then you have heard of Susie, as everyone who knows her calls her. I don’t know her that well so I just call her Susan. *wink*

Anyhow, I thought The Finest Hours was pretty good. It wasn’t the best but also wasn’t the worst. For the record, I enjoyed watching Casey Afleck more than I did Chris Pine. Never been a fan of Chris Pine’s bushy eyebrows. I know. So shallow of me. Seriously, though, Chris Pine really did well in this movie.

I watch most of my shows with my husband and he was very busy this week so we didn’t have time to sit and watch much of anything. We did watch an episode of the old show The Saint, with Roger Moore, and that was interesting since I had never seen the show before.

What I’m Writing

Thanks to the aforementioned Novel Academy, I finished the rough draft of Beauty From Ashes and am now working on edits. I say thanks to Novel Academy because the women from the group are now holding writing sprints each weekday morning and that encourages me to get moving and keep moving, on my writing projects.

Last week I also wrote a devotional for the group that is scheduled for February 28.

I didn’t write a lot here on the blog because I was working so much on editing the book and also tried to read more.

I did share a Faithfully Thinking and a Randomly Thinking post and two chapters from Beauty From Ashes (which is still called A New Chapter for the sake of the blog).

What I’m Listening To

This past week I didn’t listen to a lot of music, but I did listen to some Matthew West, who incidentally has a new song out.

Now it’s your turn

So that’s my week in review. How about you? What have you been watching, reading, doing, or listening to? Let me know in the comments.

Special Fiction Saturday: A New Chapter Chapter 23

I shared Chapter 22 yesterday and you can catch up with the rest of the chapters HERE, or wait for it to come out as an ebook and in paperback in late April.

Chapter 23

The coffee on Ginny’s tongue was bitter, like her thoughts about herself at this point. She’d replayed the kiss with Keith over and over in her mind, not because she’d enjoyed it but because she still couldn’t believe she’d let it happen.

It had felt good to be wanted, for lack of a better word, but Keith wasn’t who she hoped to be wanted by. She’d barely spoken to Stan in the last few days. Thankfully he’d been at meetings or showings most of the week and she’d been busy preparing for Clint and Tiffany’s homecoming. It all kept her from having to feel any more uncomfortable around him. She had no idea how to even broach the conversation. Thank God he hadn’t asked her how dinner with Keith had gone. What would she have said?

“Nice. Food was great. The atmosphere was cozy and calming. That kiss at the end of the night was a bit of a shock, but what’s one to do when your husband is too busy to notice you’re still alive?”

She groaned, pressing a hand against her forehead, wishing she could chase away the ache increasing there. No, she couldn’t and wouldn’t say that. It would make it sound like she’d wanted the kiss, when she hadn’t.

The squeak of the back door alerted her she wasn’t alone. It was either Liz or Sarah and she was hoping for the latter because she knew Liz would want to know why she hadn’t been answering her phone the last couple of days.

Sarah, however, hadn’t been early or even on time lately so it was most likely —

“Ginny? You up there?”

Of course, she was up there, hiding in her office, waiting for the coffee to kick in and help her figure out how or even if she was going to talk to Stan about what had happened. He quickly swiped at the tears on her cheek as footsteps thumped on the stairs outside her door.

“Hey, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” Liz set her bag down on a chair and unwound the scarf around her neck. She didn’t wait for Ginny to answer. “I was going to call you last night, but it was too late once Matt left so I decided to wait until this morning.”

Ginny abandoned her self-focused thoughts at the words “too late once Matt left.” She looked at Liz with a quirked eyebrow. “Once Matt left?”

Liz’s eyes widened. “Oh. Not like that. He just stopped by to talk.” Red flushed along her cheekbones. “Well, and there was a kiss.” She looked up at the ceiling, biting her lower lip. “Or two or three.” She brought her eyes back to Ginny’s, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “But it really was only kisses. The rest of the night we tried to help Bella calm down and get some sleep.”

At least someone was finding happiness. Ginny raised her arm in a victory fist pump. “Yes! I knew you two would finally figure it out.”

Liz moved her bag and sat in the chair laughing. “Thanks. Yeah, it took a bit but we got there.” Her smile faded as she tipped her head and studied Ginny. Ginny turned in the office chair quickly. Maybe she hadn’t wiped all the tears away or was her mascara running? It was supposed to be waterproof. Why was Liz looking at her that way?

“What’s going on? You look funny.”

Ginny picked up her mug of coffee, breathed in deep the smell of coffee beans, vanilla, and sugar. She sipped slowly, savoring the flavor on her tongue, wishing she could spend the rest of her day sipping coffee and focusing on flavor instead of failure.

“Ginny, did something happen?” Liz’s voice thickened with full-blown concern. “With Stan?” Ginny shook her head slowly and Liz’s eyebrows raised as she tilted her head forward to listen. “With Keith?”

Ginny didn’t answer, simply sipping again, staring into the light brown liquid.

Liz took a deep breath and let it out again. “I knew I should have kept calling. Molly told me I needed to keep an eye on you.”

Ginny looked up sharply. “Molly told you what?”

Liz pulled a small travel mug out of her purse. “She was worried about you and Keith.” She stared at Ginny pointedly. “Should she have been?”

Ginny folded her fingers around the mug and nodded slowly. “Yes. Or about Keith anyhow.” She looked back into the mug. “He kissed me the other night when we went for a walk after dinner.”

Liz flopped back against the back of the chair. “That jerk! Are you serious! Didn’t he understand you are a married woman?” She slapped her hand against her leg, leaning forward again. “Of course, he understood. He just didn’t care. I knew there was something off about him and that dimple of his.” She made a face. “So charming and dashing. No. He’s neither of those things. He’s manipulative and devious.”

Ginny set the mug on her desk between a stack of papers with information for the fundraiser and a pile of damaged children’s books she either needed to replace or repair.

“I let him kiss me, Liz.”

Liz cleared her throat and shifted in her chair, running her fingertip along the top of her mug as if trying to decide how to respond.

“And —um — did you enjoy it?”

Ginny pushed a hand back through her hair and held it there, at the top of her head, clutching, for a few minutes as she spoke. “At first, yes. I forgot where I was, and it felt good to be touched in a romantic way again. Luckily, though, I came to my senses and pulled away.” She let her hair go and clutched her hands together in her lap. “I was horrified at myself. I never thought I’d become someone who could forget who they were, be swept up in a moment like that.”

“Why not?” Liz leaned forward. “You’re a woman, aren’t you? A human being who needs human interaction, to feel wanted. It doesn’t make it right, but your feelings are natural and real, Ginny.”

Ginny’s eyes stung with tears, and she closed her eyes. “Natural maybe, but acting on our feelings can often get us in trouble.”

Liz breathed out a small laugh. “Yeah, as I know.” Ginny felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Liz watching her with a deeply furrowed brow. . “Does Stan know?”

Ginny shook her head slowly. “No. I haven’t told him yet.”

“But you feel like you need to?”

Ginny’s answer was a slow nod as she cried against her hand. She tried to speak, but her voice choked with emotion.

Liz kneeled next to her, sliding her arms around her. “It’s going to be okay, Ginny. Keith kissed you. You didn’t pursue it. Stan will understand.”

Ginny swallowed hard and tried to speak again. A sob came out of her, and she took a deep breath. “Part of me worries that even if he understands he won’t even care anymore. He hasn’t cared for so long, maybe he won’t even care if another man kissed me.”

“Oh, Ginny. I don’t think that’s true. I’m sure Stan loves you. He’s just lost sight of what’s really important.”

Ginny accepted the tissue she handed her and though she nodded she couldn’t help thinking, But what if I’m not what’s really important to him anymore?

***

Paperwork, check.

Briefcase, check.

List of clients he needed to call today, check.

Stan started his car, but paused, looking at the house, thinking back on his morning with Ginny. She’d been quiet, barely looking at him all morning. Was she angry at him? For what? He really didn’t have time to figure it out. Matt had called him last night to tell him who owned the property where the drugs had been found. Someone named Richard Lantz. Neither of them recognized the name. It wouldn’t matter until the police released the site anyhow. He hoped the commercial buyers were still interested in the site. If he could track this Lantz down, hopefully, he would agree to sell.

His phone rang as he shifted his car into reverse. He tapped the speaker button on the dashboard.

“Clint. How’s it going?”

“Dad, is that really you?” Clint’s laugh was warm and teasing. “I didn’t know if you were still alive. I’ve been kicked to voicemail for weeks.”

Stan’s jaw tightened. Great. Another family member calling to tell him he worked too much.

“Yeah. I’m alive. What’s up?”

Clint cleared his throat. He must have sensed the annoyance Stan was trying to hide in his voice. “I’ve been trying to reach Mom and she’s been going to voicemail too. Anyhow, I just wanted to let you guys know that Tiff and the kids are flying out Friday. Frank and Marge are going to pick them up at the airport. I’m going to be driving the U-haul and the moving company has the other U-Haul. Just thought I’d update you.”

“Great, son.” A kid on a bicycle darted out into the street and Stan slammed the brakes on. His travel mug of coffee flew from the cup holder to the floor. “That’s great. We’re looking forward to seeing you.”

And he was looking forward to seeing his son and daughter-in-law and grandchildren again and on a more regular basis. He didn’t know if he’d have as much time with them as he would like, at least at first, but he’d find the time. Somehow.

He chatted with Clint for the rest of the drive to the coffee shop to pick up the muffins he’d promised his secretary and partner he’d bring. The sun was bright when he pulled into the parking space in front of the shop but he knew it was misleading. A chill nipped at his nose as he climbed out and shut his car door. He reached out and held the door open for a woman wearing a colorful knit cap, a bright red scarf wrapped up across the lower part of her face, and a knee-length, fluffy gray winter coat. He didn’t think it was that cold just yet but to each their own.

“Stan?”

He paused from walking in, still holding the door open. “Yes?”

She pulled the scarf down. “It’s me. Janine from church.”

“Oh, yes. Good morning, Janine. Sorry I didn’t recognize you with the scarf.”

She laughed. “Yes, it’s a little early for the scarf but I have a skin condition that gets flared up in the cold air.”

Stan felt a pang of guilt for having judged her before. “You do what you have to do. I hope it feels better soon.” He also felt guilty he couldn’t remember her last name. She’d been attending their church for a couple of years now. He needed to be more observant.

“You know, maybe I shouldn’t ask this, but have you and Ginny split?”

What an odd question. Stan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No. Why would you ask?”

“Oh.” Janine pressed her lips into a thin line. “Um. . .nothing.”

A strange buzz slid up Stan’s arms. “Did someone say we had?”

Janine shook her head. “Oh no. No. Not at all.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Forget I even asked. I just wanted to be sure I didn’t stick my foot in it later if I was around either of you and now . . . Well, I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth.” She tipped her head back and laughed.

Stan persisted. What did this woman know that he didn’t? “There must be a reason you asked though.”

Janine’s cheeks had turned a bright red and Stan had a feeling it wasn’t from the skin condition. “I — it’s just — I thought I saw Ginny kissing some other man along the river walk in Clarkston the other night. I have to get new glasses, though. It must have been you and I was just too far away.” She laughed again, a nervous twitter more than a laugh, fiddling with her scarf, which she quickly yanked up over her face again. “Good thing I didn’t say anything to anyone else. That’s how rumors get started, right? Anyhow, have a good day, Stan!”

She rushed off, leaving him standing with the door still open, his mouth slightly open, his brow crinkled together as his mind raced.

Ginny? Kissing another man?

Janine must have been mistaken. Maybe it was someone else instead of Ginny. She’d had her haircut recently. Maybe the other woman had longer hair and Janine didn’t know Ginny had had her haircut. Of course, Janine had seen Ginny in church since the hair cut so . . .

“Stan! You comin’ in? You’re letting all the cold air in.”

The voice of the coffee shop’s owner cut through his musings. Stan looked at him but didn’t register what he was saying. “Hmm? Oh. Right. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

He stepped out onto the sidewalk and closed the door, staring at his car. What was he doing again?

Oh, right. Going to work. He needed to get to work.

He climbed back in the car and sat for a few seconds behind the steering wheel. Surely Janine had been wrong.

He turned the key in the ignition and sat for a few seconds longer. Maybe —.

He took a deep breath, shook his head as if to clear it, and shifted the car into park.

“I thought I saw Ginny kissing some other man.” Janine’s words played over and over in his head as he pulled the car onto the street and took a right, driving past his office and heading back toward his house.

***

Stan looked at his watch again.

Where was she?

She usually took a lunch break at this time. Well, if she hadn’t taken lunch with her that day. Had she packed lunch that morning? He couldn’t remember. He’d been on the phone with Patrick Stanton about selling his farm and right after that, he’d walked upstairs to load the rest of his paperwork into his briefcase. When he’d come back down, Ginny had been gone.

Gone. Without saying goodbye like she usually did.

She had acted like someone with a guilty conscience but he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed because he hadn’t known that he should be noticing how she was acting.

Apparently, Olivia was right. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to Ginny lately. If he had, then he would have known she obviously wasn’t happy with him and was finding her happiness somewhere else. Like in Keith Stafford’s arms.

He paced the living room, running his hand across his chin and jawline, barely hearing the chirping of birds outside the window. His gaze fell on the picture of him and Ginny on their wedding day. He snatched it up, looked into eyes young and innocent. He’d had more hair then, that was for sure. A trimmer waist too. Stronger jawline, less wrinkles.

His older image reflected in the glass of the picture, lines along the corners of his eyes, a pinched mouth that hadn’t smiled in ages, and was his forehead higher too? No wonder Ginny was looking elsewhere for affection. She probably wasn’t even attracted to him any longer and looking at his reflection, at the bags under his eyes, he couldn’t say he blamed her.

He sat on the couch, the picture in his hand, images of that day playing in his mind like a movie. The white roses in her bouquet, the way she watched him as she walked down the aisle, his racing heart that he thought might burst from his chest. He could still smell the lilies in the arrangements at the front of the church and the honeysuckle when they’d walked out into the sunlight into a rain of rice from their friends and family.

Her dad hadn’t been a fan of him when they were in high school together, but his opinion seemed to change some after college when he saw Stan had a clear direction for his life. On their wedding day, her dad and shaken Stan’s hand at the front of the church before the ceremony, pulled him in close and whispered, “I brought her this far. Now it’s your turn. Don’t let me down.”

Had he let her father down? He didn’t think so. All these years he’d earned a living to support her and the children, he’d loved her the best way he knew how.

Maybe he wasn’t the man he used to be, physically or emotionally but that didn’t give Ginny the right to throw away their marriage, run around behind his back with her ex-boyfriend.

He laid the picture down on its face and started pacing again. As he lifted his arm to look at his watch the front door opened, bringing a stream of sunlight with it. Ginny’s head was down, focused on pulling the key from the lock. When she looked up a soft scream came from her and she jumped back.

“Oh my goodness! Stan! What are you doing here? You scared the living daylights out of me!”

Stan placed his hands at his waist, jaw tight. “what do you mean what am I doing here? I live here, don’t I?”

For now, he did anyhow. Maybe he wouldn’t much longer. Maybe Ginny was planning to kick him out and move Keith in.

Ginny seemed taken aback by his tone. She nodded slightly as she set her purse on the floor by the door. “Yes, of course, you live here. You’re just usually at work at this time.”

“Well, I came home, okay?”

She visibly tensed, pulling her shoulders back and walking toward the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. He watched her, seething inside at how nonchalant she seemed about it all. She’d been lying to him, sneaking around with Keith, but acting like nothing was going on. He thought he knew her. Apparently, he didn’t or he would have known she could be so cold-hearted. What had happened to her anyhow?

He followed her into the kitchen, ready to burst with anger. He tried to keep his tone even as he spoke, though. “So, did you have a good time with Keith the other night?”

She paused in front of the open refrigerator for a brief second before resuming retrieving the deli turkey and a jar of Miracle Whip.

“Yes, I did.” She kept her back to him. “Why do you ask?”

He huffed out a small laugh. She was something else. Really? She was going to act like nothing had happened.

“It’s just that I ran into Janine from church this morning.”

“Janine Taylor?”

Taylor. That was her last name. Right. “Yeah, Janine Taylor.”

Ginny spread Miracle Whip on the bread, keeping her back to him. “And how is Janine?”

“She thinks we split, that’s how Janine is.”

“Oh?”

The innocent lilt in her voice sent him over the edge. He dragged a hand through his hair. “She saw you, Ginny.”

Ginny turned slowly, the butter knife still in her hand. Light pink had spread across the skin exposed at the top of her shirt and was spreading up toward her face. “Saw me what?” She swallowed hard.

“You can knock off the innocent act, Gin.” He heard his voice raising but couldn’t seem to lower it, keep it under control. “I know you were kissing Keith along the river.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he didn’t let her. “How long has this been going on? Weeks? Months? When were you going to tell me our marriage is over?”

Ginny’s eyes glistened with tears, which is exactly what cheaters did when they were caught, Stan thought, fury clouding his mind and judgment.

“It’s not like that at all, Stan.”

“Isn’t it? Then what is it like?”

“He kissed me. I didn’t want that kiss.”

Stan slapped a hand against his leg. “Oh, yeah. Sure you didn’t.” He held his hands up in front of him, palms out. “I don’t even want to hear it. I would have never done anything like that to you. I can’t even believe this.”

A tear slipped down Ginny’s cheek. “Haven’t you though?”

Stan thought his heart was going to explode through his throat the way it was pounding. “Excuse me?”

Ginny took a deep breath, swiped at the tear. “Nothing was happening between Keith and me but haven’t you been cheating on me for years with your job?”

He lost the control he’d been hanging onto by a thread and slammed the palm of his hand on the counter. “How dare you suggest that my working to support this family is anywhere close to you running around behind my back with your ex-boyfriend.”

Ginny stepped back against the counter, clutched at it as if for support. “I was not running behind your back. You were supposed to be there Thursday night, where were you?”

“So you’re saying because I missed some dinner with you that you decided to kiss Keith?”

“Missed some dinner? You’ve missed probably a hundred dinners over the last couple of years. I barely see you.”

“More excuses? Really? I can’t even believe this.”

She stepped forward, tears in her eyes, but anger in her voice. “I didn’t kiss Keith, Stan. He kissed me. I didn’t want him to kiss me. I told him that.”

Keith stepped back, threw up his hands. “I don’t even want to hear this.”

“Hear what?” She snapped out the words sharply. “Hear that it isn’t Keith I wanted a passionate kiss from? That —”

“Oh so it was a passionate kiss, was it?”

“You’re not listening Stan!”

I can hear you perfectly fine. You had a passionate kiss with your ex-boyfriend along the river the other night.

I didn’t want a passionate kiss from Keith! I wanted one from you! I’ve wanted one from you for months! You don’t even know I’m alive anymore.

Stan shook his head, his hands up near his head. “I can’t listen to this right now. I can’t do this.”

He snatched his keys off the island and pivoted on his heel toward the back door. “I’m going for a drive.”

“Fine. Walk away like you always do.”

The parting words from his wife sent even more anger rumbling through him. He swung around and faced her. “Stop talking, Ginny! Just stop! I’ve heard enough today. I’m going for a drive and them I’m coming back and packing a bag.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“I’ll get a room at that inn. Blueberry Inn or whatever it is called. I just can’t be here right now.”

The door rattled when he slammed it behind him and he heard the sobbing, but it only made him angrier. How dare she think she had the right to sob like she was the victim when she was the one who had betrayed him, throwing all they had away for  — for what? A passionate moment to get back at him for what she thought he’d done wrong? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d gone to work day after day to make sure she was fed, that Olivia could keep going to college, that they didn’t lose all they had built over their 35 years of marriage.

He slammed the car door closed and started the car, slamming his hand against the steering wheel and wincing. He didn’t even know where he was going. He couldn’t go to work. Not in the state he was in. All he knew was he couldn’t stay here. Not with the woman who’d treated their marriage like it was optional, like loving him was optional.

How had he not noticed how bad things had gotten? How had he not noticed that his wife no longer loved him?

Fiction Friday: A New Chapter Chapter 22

This is an almost first draft of a story with typos and errors and who knows what going on. *wink*
If you want to catch up with the rest of this story you can click HERE.

If you want to wait until it is all finished and purchase a copy of the book on April 26, you can do that as well.

Chapter 22

Cutting the mushroom as thin as he could, Stan narrowed one eye and noticed, yet again, how hard it had become to focus on smaller objects. He should have brought his bifocals from his upstairs office, but he’d been so hungry he’d left them in favor of starting lunch.

He tossed the mushrooms into the pan of sizzling hamburger and sauce and when he looked up, he saw his daughter trying to move back up the stairs slowly. He was sure she was hoping he hadn’t seen her.

He leaned on the counter, folding his hands over the edge. “Olivia Grace, I’ve already seen you. You can keep coming.”

She sighed heavily, a lot of the teenager Olivia still in her, and walked slowly down the stairs, clearly attempting to delay the inevitable.

“Have you had lunch today?”

She shook her head as she slunked into a chair at the kitchen table.

“Well, I’m making my famous mushroom stroganoff if you’d like some.”

Olivia shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. Where’s Mom?”

Stan shrugged a shoulder as well. “The library. Where she usually is this time of day.” He turned back to the stove and stirred the mixture. “Don’t try to deflect me. You know we need to talk about why you’re home.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Care to enlighten me about your visit?”

Olivia stretched her arms over her head and leaned back slightly. “I just missed you and Mom.”

Stan laughed and shook his head. “Good try, Liv. Spill it. What’s the real reason?”

“I just needed a break from California and college.”

“A break?” He sat the spoon on the spoon holder next to the stove and turned, folding his arms across his chest. “Did your professors approve of this little break of yours? I assume you’re keeping track of your classes online somehow?”

She picked at the tassels on the knitted placemat in front of her. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? Liv, if you are going to drop out of college, I swear I —”

“It’s not if I drop out, Dad. I already did. It’s done.”

“Done? Done?” Warmth spread up from Stan’s chest to his face and he was sure he was beat red and possibly about to have a stroke from high blood pressure. “You are not done until I say you’re done, or you have a degree in your hand, young lady.

Olivia leaned forward, a pleading tone to her voice. “Dad, don’t be upset. I was wasting your money out there. I don’t even want to be a social worker anymore, I —”

Stan ignored her efforts to beg for his forgiveness. “I paid all that money for three years and now you are just, what? Walking away from your education? Wasting my money is what you are doing now. If you drop out you’ve already wasted it. All that money down the tubes because now you aren’t even going to use your degree.

Olivia stood and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of orange juice. She picked up a container of avocado and made a face, then put it back on the shelf. “Again, it’s not if I drop out. Also, it wasn’t totally a waste. I took a lot of good classes with a lot of great information that I can use in the future.”

Stan leaned back against the counter, his arms still folded across his chest, resisting the urge to slam his hand on the counter. “In the future? What future? If you don’t have a degree then you don’t have —”

“Everyone who is successful in life doesn’t have a degree, okay?”

Stan couldn’t believe his ears. “Well, that’s great. So, you think you’re just going to waltz through life without a degree and do what?”

“I don’t know yet, Dad. I just need a break, okay? And Mark Zuckerburg never got a degree. Steve Jobs didn’t either.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “I know who Steve Jobs is but who is this Zuckerburt guy? Someone you went to high school with? What did he ever do that was so great?”

Olivia paused with the glass halfway to her mouth. “Really, Dad? Mark Zuckerburg is —” She waved her hand and sat back down at the table. “Never mind. All I’m saying is that I don’t have to have a degree to have a successful or happy life.”

She picked up a book on the table and raised an eyebrow. “Whose book is this? How to Find Happiness in Your Older Years?”

Stan turned back to the food on the stove. “I don’t know. Don’t change the subject. This is a very serious decision.”

“Do you think Mom has been acting weird?”

Stan’s jaw tightened. “No, I don’t. Stop trying to change the subject.”

Olivia flipped through the pages of the book. “She seems sad, right? Have you noticed that?”

“There are no breaks in life kid. There’s hard work and —”

“Right, I know.” Olivia sipped the juice, closing the book. “But what about Mom? Have you even noticed how down she seems lately?”

Stan slapped the spoon on the counter next to the stove. “There is nothing wrong with your mom.”

Olivia leaned an elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand. “Are things okay between you two?”

Stan threw his arms out to his side, facing his daughter. “Everything is fine with me and your mom. Will you, please, stop changing the subject?”

Olivia pursed her lips and tapped the tip of her index finger against her chin. “But is it, really? Okay between you two? I mean, do you have any idea what’s she been up to lately?”

Stan huffed a breath out impatiently. “What does that mean?” Was his daughter trying to show she’d learned at least something in those psychology classes she’d taken as part of her social work degree. If so, he didn’t like it. Not one little bit. “She’s been working, planning the library fundraiser, hanging out with Liz. Normal stuff.”

Olivia ran the tip of her finger along the edge of the class. “I don’t know, Dad, maybe Mom is acting weird because you’re never home.”

Stan stuffed his hands into his pockets, certain if he didn’t  place them there, he’d pound a fist into the kitchen wall. “She is not acting weird, and I am home sometimes.”

“But not a lot.”

“Because I’m working, paying for you to go to college or I was and apparently I was working for nothing since you’ve thrown away your chance to finish your degree.”

Olivia seemed non-plussed by Stan’s growing anger. She chewed on her lower lip, looking absent-mindedly through the kitchen doorway to the living room. “Every time I call home she’s alone. She says you’re at work or a meeting or conference somewhere.” She turned to look at her dad again. “Do you guys even hang out anymore? When is the last time you two went out? Alone. Just the two of you?”

Stan tossed his arms out to his side. “I don’t know, Olivia. Why are you asking all these questions? Things are fine with your mother. They’re fine with me and your mother.” He pointed a finger at her. “But things are not fine between you and me, so you’d better figure out what you are going to do about all this. You are not dropping out of college, do you understand me?”

Olivia sighed and stretched her leg out across the chair next to her. “It’s too late, Dad. I already told you that. I’m not going back to college. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll figure it out.” She slid her leg down and stood, taking the glass of juice with her. “You know, you need to relax more. You’re going to have a stroke or something.” She smiled as she turned toward the stairs. “You know what’s relaxing? A nice dinner. With your wife.” She pointed toward the stove. “Also, your lunch is burning.”

Stan clenched his jaw and swore he tasted blood. He turned back to the stove and slid the pan off the burner. What in the world did that girl think she was doing asking him all those questions about him and her mother?

Did he think Ginny had been acting weird?

When was the last time they’d gone out to dinner together?

What kind of questions were those anyhow?

He sniffed the concoction in the pan. Burned. He made a face and tossed his hands up and slapped them down against the counter.

Yes, he thought Ginny had been acting weird but he hadn’t had time to really think about it. He had properties to sell, contracts to sign, money to earn to keep a roof over this family’s head and apparently to throw away when his daughter decided on a whim to abandon her responsibilities and walk away from earning a degree.

He had to admit he couldn’t remember the last time he and Ginny had gone out to dinner together. She’d had fundraising meetings and he’d had real estate meetings. Then there was all the times she was out helping Liz, watching her baby, cheering her up by attending art classes with her.

They’d just both been busy lately.

He scraped some of the stroganoff onto a plate.

He wondered how dinner had gone the other night with Keith. She’d never said.

Of course, he’d never asked.

He spooned some of the stroganoff up and took a bite, spitting it out a second later. Burned was an understatement. The beef and mushrooms had been napalmed.

It didn’t matter anyhow. He’d lost his appetite after his discussion with Olivia.

Not only had she avoided all his questions about what she was going to do with her future, but she’d also left his mind spinning with doubts. His marriage was fine, wasn’t it?

If it was, then why did he have a funny feeling it wasn’t?

***

“Let me get this straight.” Incredulous. That’s how Matt described the tone of the trooper’s voice on the other end of the phone. “You’re calling me to try to pin a drug ring on the guy you kicked the crap out of last week and who, incidentally, pressed charges against you and caused you your spot at the state police academy?” Trooper Dan Laudermilch snorted a laugh into the receiver. “Come on, McGee, really? This is clearly an attempt by you or someone else to set this guy up.”

Matt bristled at the suggestion he was a crooked cop, but swallowed a retort. “Dan, you’ve known me for how long? Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

A loud slurp made Matt pull the phone back from his ear. After the slurp, there was a clink of a mug against a desk. “No, man, I don’t, but I also didn’t think you’d slam some guy off the sidewalk. You’re not exactly ole reliable right now.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have called, but it was a tip, and I didn’t want to ignore it.”

“A tip from who?” Dan’s voice was muffled, talking around a mouthful of food. Matt smirked. Probably a donut. How stereotypical.

“A guy I know.”

“Someone you arrested?”

“Yes, but —”

“How do you know this guy isn’t just trying to send you on a wild goose chase? Chase you off his own scent?”

Matt rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Listen, you’re a good guy, Matt. A good cop. I want to believe you, but I worry your instincts are off with all that’s gone down the last couple weeks.” Another slurp. “Between you and me, I’m glad you decked Martin. He deserved it. I’m tired of pulling him over for speeding and Daddy sending lawyers to get him off.” A crinkling sound on the other end must have been Dan wiping donut dust from around his mouth. “Because you’re a friend, I’ll look into this, but I’m not making any promises. We’re zeroing in on the guy we think was running this thing. He’s a guy you picked up a few years back.” Papers rustled on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Here it is. A Bernie Denton.”

Matt shook his head no, even though Dan couldn’t see him. “No. It isn’t Bernie. He was never into drugs. Not hard ones anyhow. He’s a good guy, getting himself back on his feet.”

“He’s your informant isn’t he?” Dan groaned before Matt could answer. “Come on, McGee! Really? Your informant is the guy we’re investigating. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”

It did seem a little suspicious, yes, but something about the way Bernie had told him, opened up to him, made him believe it was true, as much as he didn’t want it to be. “Yeah. It does so maybe I’m wrong, okay? But I still wanted to offer the information. If there’s nothing to it, there’s nothing to it. To be honest, I don’t want there to be anything to it. It would be a lot easier for me if there wasn’t.”

Dan chuckled. “So it’s true then? You’re dating Martin’s former woman, huh?”

Matt pressed the heal of his hand into his forehead as he leaned on it. She wasn’t someone’s former woman. Her name was Liz and he loved her. The way she was being defined by Dan as if she was a possession grated on his nerves but he was already bating zero with area law enforcement. No need to burn another bridge.

“Just keep me updated if you can, Dan. I appreciate it.”

“I shouldn’t be updating you about anything, but, again, you’re a good cop, so I’ll oblige you.” Teasing edged Dan’s voice. “Just this once, though.”

Matt slid his finger over the end button and closed his eyes, pain thrumming in his temples and along the base of his skull. Now that that was over he needed to call his lawyer, who’d he just hired two days ago, and find out of Gabe had filed the lawsuit against him he’d threatened to, in addition to the assault charges he’d already filed.

The only bright spot in these last two weeks was finally telling Liz how he felt, coupled with the kisses they’d exchanged the night before. He could have kissed her all night, but that would have led them into dangerous territory. Instead, he’d stayed with her for much of the night, patting the back of a fussy Bella and watching sitcoms. This relationship wasn’t going to be only between him and Liz and for any other guy that would have been a problem. Sharing Liz with Bella wasn’t a problem for him, though. The two of them were a package deal and it was a package he was happy to be the caretaker of.

The idea of protecting them wasn’t something he dreaded. He looked at the prospect with anticipation, looking forward to even more days and nights with them. They both had already filled every inch of his heart and mind. He was ready for them to fill every moment of his life as well.