Must be signed in and friends with that member to view that page.
Getting Caught in the Act
I'm taking a wonderful workshop called The Book Factory. Our instructor Kerri Nelson , a multi published author, is wonderful!!! I'm enjoying the class very much.
She posted a few writing prompts and I worked on one of them in fifteen minute intervals until I got it finished. It turned out so well I thought I'd post it here for everyone to read.
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style>--> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">With three kids in the house, a love life is darn near impossible. The only lip action you get is when one of the kids back talks you. The one and only time our son caught my husband and I in a clinch, he gagged so hard I thought he’d swallowed his gum and was choking to death.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">All of us have different schedules. Since we have a child in each school one in elementary, one in junior high and one in high school all three kids have different activities they attend—simultaneously of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With only two cars in the family and two responsible adults acting as cabbies and spectators, we don’t even get to have a quiet conversation in the car, unless you count cell phone calls to discuss what fast food we can pick up for dinner on the way home.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My children are healthy, happy, well adapted teenagers and they each have a life. But Jimmy, my husband, and I have none. In fact, parenthood has pretty much become a time suck.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my children. If I had to throw myself between them and a moving car, I’d gladly do it. I carried them for nine months, and suffered through long, slow, painful labors to bring them into the world. I have a lot invested in these three, emotionally, physically, and financially. Certainly too much to give them away. But of late I’ve begun to wonder when this hamster wheel is going to stop so I might eventually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">get off</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forgive the pun.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Yes, I’m talking about sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say it’s like riding a bicycle and that once you learn how, you never forget. But I have to tell you, the memories have grown p-r-e-t-t-y cloudy. We’re talking sand storm in the desert, a fog bank across a pacific coast bay, the ash cloud following a volcanic eruption cloudy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My hubby and I have become so obsessed with doing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for</i> the kids, that we’ve forgotten about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doing</i> each other. After eight hours at work, four hours at whatever function the kids have and all the other responsibilities of a household, we both seem to tumble into bed and die. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">So, I’ve made a decision. It’s Thursday, and technically a school night, but this gal is tired of waiting her turn. A turn that never comes. Tonight the kids are going to a movie and hubby and I are going to have a romantic evening at home. Or at least two hours. End of discussion.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">***</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids came in about five-thirty from soccer practice, gymnastics and piano lessons. They were all able to catch rides home so I could actually cook dinner tonight. As they were stuffing their faces I asked, “How would you guys like to go to that new Hunger Games movie?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">All three were concentrating on their food. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Sure” Kelly, our son, said without pausing. “I’ll call Chad and see if he wants to go too.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I meant tonight. It’s just come out and I thought you guys might want to go.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Every one paused, forks in midair for at least three seconds. “It’s a school night,” Adriana our youngest said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Now I know we’ve become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">extremely</i> regimented as far as the rules go. We insist on every scrape of homework being done, before the kids go out with their friends. And they very rarely do anything on a school night, outside their extra curricular activities. (who needs anything extra with ballgames of some sort three days a week.) I can’t see how they’d have time without it affecting their grades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the rule.</i> But I was desperate for some alone time with my husband. And at this point desperation breeds, a bending of the rules.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You guys have been doing so well in school and keeping up with things around here, so, I thought I’d treat you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I have a test tomorrow,” Adriana said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Kelly and Sophie’s head snapped in her direction so fast I thought I heard bones crack. Had their eyes been laser beams, she’d have been a cinder.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“The movie will be over at nine and that will give you an hour to study before you have to hit the hay.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">A smile flitted across her features and I knew she’d mentioned the test out of pure devilment to torment her siblings. “I studied in study hall today, so I think I’ll do fine.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy wandered in from work. He made a quick trip to the bedroom to shake free of his suit and tie. He returned wearing jeans and a t-shirt.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“The kids are going to the movies,” I announced as he joined us at the table.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Tonight?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Yes. I thought they’d been keeping their noses to the grindstone and deserved a treat. The new Hunger Games movie is on at the Cinema.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He raised his brows but didn’t say anything. My husband is good about reading between the lines and though he may not have understood why the kids were going, he knew better than to argue about it in front of them.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids finished up in record time and left the table to get ready to go.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Did I miss something?” Jimmy asked as soon as they were gone. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Yes, you did. If you’re very, very good, you might just get lucky tonight,” I announced as I rose to clear my plate from the table.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The slow grin that spread across his face almost wiped away the lines of exhaustion that marked the outer corners of his eyes and bracketed his mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been working sixty and seventy hour weeks and doing things with the kids. “What do I have to do?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Think positive thoughts while I shove the kids out the door and take a shower.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He laughed and caught me about the waist. I set aside the dinnerware and bent to give him a quick kiss and a cuddle. He nuzzled my breasts and I brushed back the dark hair at his temple liberally sprinkled with gray. He looked so tired. The phone rang— and rang, and when it became apparent none of the kids were going to answer it, I tugged free and grabbed it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">It was for him. With a sigh, I passed it on to him and left him talking business while I shepherded the kids out to the car.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Kelly, having just gotten his license about a week ago, was hyped about driving to the movies. It was only three miles from the house. I gave him the required cautions and reminded him to take his time, then handed him the keys.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">As he was backing out of the drive, I wondered if I should follow them in the car just to be sure they arrived safely. I fought the urge and watched the car progress down the street and turn the corner. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Returning to the kitchen, I found Jimmy had left his meal and had gone into his office. His voice droned on in a discussion about water table studies and other things engineers understand and we lay people don’t. I cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and left Jimmy’s meal in the microwave for him to reheat. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I jumped in the shower and washed away the stress of the day. I work as a nurse in a doctor’s office and I know I’ve seen at least a hundred and fifty patients today. I lathered my hair and washed it as well. It only took a few minutes to wrap up in my robe and blow-dry my hair. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">As I stepped out of the bedroom the luscious quietness of the house settled around me. I wandered down the hall, through the living room and pushed open the door to Jimmy’s office. He lay on the couch, a sheet of paper in his hand and soft snores emitting from his open mouth.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I almost groaned aloud in frustration, then thought about how tired he’d looked at the dinner table and hadn’t the heart to wake him. I tiptoed out and shut the door. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">After shucking the robe and putting on my usual gown, I settled at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. It wasn’t that I was hungry for—sex. It was that I felt Jimmy and I had lost track of each other because we were so busy keeping responsible track of our kids. I just wanted a few moments to feel close to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Ten minutes later the kids came in. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“What happened?” I asked. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“They sold out. You wouldn’t believe the crowd,” Sophie complained.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Well, you can go tomorrow night.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy appeared at the office door, yawning and stretching. “Is the movie over already?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We never got to go. The place was packed and we couldn’t get a ticket. We’ll go tomorrow,” Kelly answered.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy’s gaze met mine. With a small deprecating smile, he shook his head. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids scattered, two to their rooms and Kelly to settle in front of the television in the living room. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy crooked his finger at me and I rose to follow him into the office. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You were tired, and besides the kids came home just a few minutes later.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He gathered me close and I rested my cheek against his chest. He rested his chin atop my head. “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He returned with his car keys.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I’m not dressed,” I complained. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We’re not going far.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He led me into the garage and opened the passenger door of his car and motioned me in. Then jogged around to get in.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He hit the garage door opener and backed the car out. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Where are we going?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“How long has it been since you went parking?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I laughed. “Not since you and I went a hundred years ago when we were young and stupid.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I’m glad to hear it. No one ever comes down to the end of the cul-de-sac.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You hope.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Was he serious?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He pulled around the edge of the circular drive and pointed the headlights into the woods. But where the streetlight at the end could shine into the car enough for us to see one another. He turned off the ignition. “So tell me what’s bothering you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Would he think I was awful? An uncaring mom? A selfish bitch? Shit! Once I’d wrested with my guilt, it all came out in a rush. “I miss us. I miss us having time alone, and energy to make love, and just us without the constant interruption of the kids. I mean—we can’t even carry on a conversation without someone butting in to tell us some insignificant thing, or ask for permission to do that, or do this. I’m tired of middle school dance team, and soccer practice and basketball, gymnastics and piano recitals, and you name it. Our kids social lives have become ours.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Is that all?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Well, yeah. Well, no. We both fall into bed so exhausted and just go to sleep. I want sex. I haven’t had sex in four weeks and three days and I want it.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He laughed. One of those throw your head back, stomach shaking, laughs that make everyone else smile. When he’d finally regained control, he shoved open the door, then came around to my side of the car to open mine. He offered me his hand. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If he thought I was going to make love in the woods and get poison ivy or something he was insane.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Once I’d gotten out, he slipped into my seat and pulled the lever at the front to push the seat back as far as it would go. He hit the other lever and lowered the back of the seat so he was almost reclined. “As I remember from the last time we tried this, you kept hitting the steering wheel and blowing the horn.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t realize you had thought about our one and only experience long enough to work out the kinks.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He smiled as he unzipped his pants and wiggled them down. “You’re not the only one who hasn’t had sex in four weeks and three days.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I was suddenly aware of the streetlight and the dome light inside the car being on and my husband exposed to the world. I did the only thing I could—I climbed on board and shut the door.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Maybe the memories weren’t all that cloudy after all. Because once we’d worked out a few logistical things, we seemed to do quite well. It was a good thing it was summer because the windows would have been steamed up. We’d just finished and were cuddling in a shared post coital bliss when headlights approached behind the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scrambled into the drivers seat so fast I’m sure I bruised sensitive parts of my body on the parking break and I know I saw stars when I hit my elbow on the steering wheel. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy laughed out loud as he pull up his jeans and arrange his shirt overtop his unbuttoned fly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned the key to battery and rolled the window down half way expecting to see a police officer approaching the car at any moment. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">A lone voice came from the back of the car. “Dad?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I laid my head down on the steering wheel, my shoulders shaking with laughter. You can run, but you can't hide. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy zipped up and opened the door. He leaned out into the light. “Your mom and I will be home in ten minutes, Kelly. Hold down the fort okay?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I heard the words important phone call from one of Jimmy’s partners.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We’ve done this to ourselves, you know,” he said as he leaned back in the seat and closed the door. “We’ve made them into responsible people—well mostly, for now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“If they’re so responsible then maybe we can take an evening now and then for just us,” I suggested. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He leaned over and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “We’ll try the back seat next time.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">If you enjoyed this story— check out some of my published work on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, Kobo, and ect. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLCxWwskj8g..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLCxWwskj8g..." width="213" /></a> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/An-Automated-De... AUTOMATED DEATH</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LziMz2oRS7Q..." width="209" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Timeless-ebook/... </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Throug... THROUGH </a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KmFOtIFTz7Y..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KmFOtIFTz7Y..." width="209" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpJr7rICO-0..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpJr7rICO-0..." width="208" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Free-S... BREAKING FREE </a><br /><br /> I've recently gotten my rights back to Highland Moonlight and Captive Hearts my two Historical Romances. And I will be rereleasing them shortly. Their currently getting new covers and I've done rewrites and have sent both books to an editor. Be sure to look for upcoming announcements about these books!!!<br /><br />Teresa Reasor </div>
She posted a few writing prompts and I worked on one of them in fifteen minute intervals until I got it finished. It turned out so well I thought I'd post it here for everyone to read.
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style>--> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">With three kids in the house, a love life is darn near impossible. The only lip action you get is when one of the kids back talks you. The one and only time our son caught my husband and I in a clinch, he gagged so hard I thought he’d swallowed his gum and was choking to death.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">All of us have different schedules. Since we have a child in each school one in elementary, one in junior high and one in high school all three kids have different activities they attend—simultaneously of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With only two cars in the family and two responsible adults acting as cabbies and spectators, we don’t even get to have a quiet conversation in the car, unless you count cell phone calls to discuss what fast food we can pick up for dinner on the way home.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My children are healthy, happy, well adapted teenagers and they each have a life. But Jimmy, my husband, and I have none. In fact, parenthood has pretty much become a time suck.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my children. If I had to throw myself between them and a moving car, I’d gladly do it. I carried them for nine months, and suffered through long, slow, painful labors to bring them into the world. I have a lot invested in these three, emotionally, physically, and financially. Certainly too much to give them away. But of late I’ve begun to wonder when this hamster wheel is going to stop so I might eventually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">get off</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forgive the pun.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Yes, I’m talking about sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They say it’s like riding a bicycle and that once you learn how, you never forget. But I have to tell you, the memories have grown p-r-e-t-t-y cloudy. We’re talking sand storm in the desert, a fog bank across a pacific coast bay, the ash cloud following a volcanic eruption cloudy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My hubby and I have become so obsessed with doing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for</i> the kids, that we’ve forgotten about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doing</i> each other. After eight hours at work, four hours at whatever function the kids have and all the other responsibilities of a household, we both seem to tumble into bed and die. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">So, I’ve made a decision. It’s Thursday, and technically a school night, but this gal is tired of waiting her turn. A turn that never comes. Tonight the kids are going to a movie and hubby and I are going to have a romantic evening at home. Or at least two hours. End of discussion.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">***</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids came in about five-thirty from soccer practice, gymnastics and piano lessons. They were all able to catch rides home so I could actually cook dinner tonight. As they were stuffing their faces I asked, “How would you guys like to go to that new Hunger Games movie?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">All three were concentrating on their food. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Sure” Kelly, our son, said without pausing. “I’ll call Chad and see if he wants to go too.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I meant tonight. It’s just come out and I thought you guys might want to go.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Every one paused, forks in midair for at least three seconds. “It’s a school night,” Adriana our youngest said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Now I know we’ve become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">extremely</i> regimented as far as the rules go. We insist on every scrape of homework being done, before the kids go out with their friends. And they very rarely do anything on a school night, outside their extra curricular activities. (who needs anything extra with ballgames of some sort three days a week.) I can’t see how they’d have time without it affecting their grades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the rule.</i> But I was desperate for some alone time with my husband. And at this point desperation breeds, a bending of the rules.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You guys have been doing so well in school and keeping up with things around here, so, I thought I’d treat you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I have a test tomorrow,” Adriana said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Kelly and Sophie’s head snapped in her direction so fast I thought I heard bones crack. Had their eyes been laser beams, she’d have been a cinder.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“The movie will be over at nine and that will give you an hour to study before you have to hit the hay.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">A smile flitted across her features and I knew she’d mentioned the test out of pure devilment to torment her siblings. “I studied in study hall today, so I think I’ll do fine.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy wandered in from work. He made a quick trip to the bedroom to shake free of his suit and tie. He returned wearing jeans and a t-shirt.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“The kids are going to the movies,” I announced as he joined us at the table.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Tonight?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Yes. I thought they’d been keeping their noses to the grindstone and deserved a treat. The new Hunger Games movie is on at the Cinema.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He raised his brows but didn’t say anything. My husband is good about reading between the lines and though he may not have understood why the kids were going, he knew better than to argue about it in front of them.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids finished up in record time and left the table to get ready to go.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Did I miss something?” Jimmy asked as soon as they were gone. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Yes, you did. If you’re very, very good, you might just get lucky tonight,” I announced as I rose to clear my plate from the table.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The slow grin that spread across his face almost wiped away the lines of exhaustion that marked the outer corners of his eyes and bracketed his mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’d been working sixty and seventy hour weeks and doing things with the kids. “What do I have to do?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Think positive thoughts while I shove the kids out the door and take a shower.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He laughed and caught me about the waist. I set aside the dinnerware and bent to give him a quick kiss and a cuddle. He nuzzled my breasts and I brushed back the dark hair at his temple liberally sprinkled with gray. He looked so tired. The phone rang— and rang, and when it became apparent none of the kids were going to answer it, I tugged free and grabbed it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">It was for him. With a sigh, I passed it on to him and left him talking business while I shepherded the kids out to the car.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Kelly, having just gotten his license about a week ago, was hyped about driving to the movies. It was only three miles from the house. I gave him the required cautions and reminded him to take his time, then handed him the keys.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">As he was backing out of the drive, I wondered if I should follow them in the car just to be sure they arrived safely. I fought the urge and watched the car progress down the street and turn the corner. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Returning to the kitchen, I found Jimmy had left his meal and had gone into his office. His voice droned on in a discussion about water table studies and other things engineers understand and we lay people don’t. I cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and left Jimmy’s meal in the microwave for him to reheat. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I jumped in the shower and washed away the stress of the day. I work as a nurse in a doctor’s office and I know I’ve seen at least a hundred and fifty patients today. I lathered my hair and washed it as well. It only took a few minutes to wrap up in my robe and blow-dry my hair. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">As I stepped out of the bedroom the luscious quietness of the house settled around me. I wandered down the hall, through the living room and pushed open the door to Jimmy’s office. He lay on the couch, a sheet of paper in his hand and soft snores emitting from his open mouth.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I almost groaned aloud in frustration, then thought about how tired he’d looked at the dinner table and hadn’t the heart to wake him. I tiptoed out and shut the door. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">After shucking the robe and putting on my usual gown, I settled at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. It wasn’t that I was hungry for—sex. It was that I felt Jimmy and I had lost track of each other because we were so busy keeping responsible track of our kids. I just wanted a few moments to feel close to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Ten minutes later the kids came in. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“What happened?” I asked. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“They sold out. You wouldn’t believe the crowd,” Sophie complained.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Well, you can go tomorrow night.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy appeared at the office door, yawning and stretching. “Is the movie over already?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We never got to go. The place was packed and we couldn’t get a ticket. We’ll go tomorrow,” Kelly answered.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy’s gaze met mine. With a small deprecating smile, he shook his head. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The kids scattered, two to their rooms and Kelly to settle in front of the television in the living room. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy crooked his finger at me and I rose to follow him into the office. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You were tired, and besides the kids came home just a few minutes later.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He gathered me close and I rested my cheek against his chest. He rested his chin atop my head. “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He returned with his car keys.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I’m not dressed,” I complained. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We’re not going far.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He led me into the garage and opened the passenger door of his car and motioned me in. Then jogged around to get in.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He hit the garage door opener and backed the car out. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Where are we going?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“How long has it been since you went parking?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I laughed. “Not since you and I went a hundred years ago when we were young and stupid.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“I’m glad to hear it. No one ever comes down to the end of the cul-de-sac.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“You hope.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Was he serious?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He pulled around the edge of the circular drive and pointed the headlights into the woods. But where the streetlight at the end could shine into the car enough for us to see one another. He turned off the ignition. “So tell me what’s bothering you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Would he think I was awful? An uncaring mom? A selfish bitch? Shit! Once I’d wrested with my guilt, it all came out in a rush. “I miss us. I miss us having time alone, and energy to make love, and just us without the constant interruption of the kids. I mean—we can’t even carry on a conversation without someone butting in to tell us some insignificant thing, or ask for permission to do that, or do this. I’m tired of middle school dance team, and soccer practice and basketball, gymnastics and piano recitals, and you name it. Our kids social lives have become ours.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Is that all?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Well, yeah. Well, no. We both fall into bed so exhausted and just go to sleep. I want sex. I haven’t had sex in four weeks and three days and I want it.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He laughed. One of those throw your head back, stomach shaking, laughs that make everyone else smile. When he’d finally regained control, he shoved open the door, then came around to my side of the car to open mine. He offered me his hand. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If he thought I was going to make love in the woods and get poison ivy or something he was insane.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Once I’d gotten out, he slipped into my seat and pulled the lever at the front to push the seat back as far as it would go. He hit the other lever and lowered the back of the seat so he was almost reclined. “As I remember from the last time we tried this, you kept hitting the steering wheel and blowing the horn.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t realize you had thought about our one and only experience long enough to work out the kinks.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He smiled as he unzipped his pants and wiggled them down. “You’re not the only one who hasn’t had sex in four weeks and three days.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I was suddenly aware of the streetlight and the dome light inside the car being on and my husband exposed to the world. I did the only thing I could—I climbed on board and shut the door.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Maybe the memories weren’t all that cloudy after all. Because once we’d worked out a few logistical things, we seemed to do quite well. It was a good thing it was summer because the windows would have been steamed up. We’d just finished and were cuddling in a shared post coital bliss when headlights approached behind the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scrambled into the drivers seat so fast I’m sure I bruised sensitive parts of my body on the parking break and I know I saw stars when I hit my elbow on the steering wheel. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy laughed out loud as he pull up his jeans and arrange his shirt overtop his unbuttoned fly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned the key to battery and rolled the window down half way expecting to see a police officer approaching the car at any moment. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">A lone voice came from the back of the car. “Dad?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I laid my head down on the steering wheel, my shoulders shaking with laughter. You can run, but you can't hide. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Jimmy zipped up and opened the door. He leaned out into the light. “Your mom and I will be home in ten minutes, Kelly. Hold down the fort okay?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I heard the words important phone call from one of Jimmy’s partners.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“We’ve done this to ourselves, you know,” he said as he leaned back in the seat and closed the door. “We’ve made them into responsible people—well mostly, for now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">“If they’re so responsible then maybe we can take an evening now and then for just us,” I suggested. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He leaned over and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “We’ll try the back seat next time.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">If you enjoyed this story— check out some of my published work on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, Kobo, and ect. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLCxWwskj8g..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLCxWwskj8g..." width="213" /></a> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/An-Automated-De... AUTOMATED DEATH</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LziMz2oRS7Q..." width="209" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Timeless-ebook/... </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Throug... THROUGH </a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KmFOtIFTz7Y..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KmFOtIFTz7Y..." width="209" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpJr7rICO-0..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpJr7rICO-0..." width="208" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Free-S... BREAKING FREE </a><br /><br /> I've recently gotten my rights back to Highland Moonlight and Captive Hearts my two Historical Romances. And I will be rereleasing them shortly. Their currently getting new covers and I've done rewrites and have sent both books to an editor. Be sure to look for upcoming announcements about these books!!!<br /><br />Teresa Reasor </div>
No comments have been added yet.
