Forbearance.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for some forebearance here: I've got something in my head and I'm trying to get it down on paper (or rather, a harddrive), but I need some time.

so....Please hold.

Part 4 of 4

Mini golf. Nice, safe, mini golf. Nice, located on the ground mini golf.

Her ball bounced off the wall and back two or three feet towards her. Stupid mini golf.

“Hey, try hitting it like this.” He showed her with a smooth, gentle motion. “Just tap it. We aren’t in the Opens.”

She mumbled obscenities under her breath and tried it again. Again, it slapped into the back wall and bounced back. “Mother fucker.”

“Here.” He came over behind her and held her arms in position as he ran through the motions. “Just tap.” His breath was hot on her ear. “Just…tap…” Their arms swung together a few more times, then he stepped back.

Irritation drained out of her body, she actually did tap it, as opposed to cracking it at short range like she had been. It went straight in and she turned to him with a grin, only to find him giving her an odd look.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

She retrieved her ball and followed him to the next hole. “About what?”

“You told me not to talk about it.”

“Oh, fantastic.” She huffed, setting the ball down and trying to tap it like he showed her, but slamming again.

“You have rage issues. It’s just a game.”

“You try sucking this bad at something.”

“I suck at all kinds of things.”

She sniggered.

“You have a mind in the gutter.”

“Yours can’t be far off that you knew what I was laughing about.”

He half grinned, then went back to the odd sober expression as he set his ball down and knocked it into the hole.

“Seriously, what’s got you looking like someone shot your dog?”

Jason looked irritated and kicked the side wall before answering. “He asked you to call if you were going to be coming home early?”

“Oh gods, not this again.” She tossed a hand in the air, encumbered by the stupid plastic golf club on the other hand.

“See? That’s why I didn’t say anything. You don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is supposed to be anyway.”

“Really? You don’t? Then why are you so damn touchy about it?” He waved the golf club at her. “I think you know exactly what I’m getting it and that’s why it pisses you off so much.”

“Even if I did know, what right does that give you?”

“The right of someone who cares about you!”

There was an embarrassed cough from the tee pad. They turned to see a woman and three children staring at them.

“I’m…ah…sorry, but we’re up to this hole.” She made a helpless gesture towards the kids.

“Were you going to hit her with that?” one of the little boys asked, wide-eyed.

“What?” Jason suddenly realized he was still brandishing the golf club and put it down. “No, of course not.”

“That’s a double negative.” Said an older girl, popping her gum. “That means he was going to hit her. Maybe he was even trying to kill her.”

“Don’t be stupid, Britty. He wouldn’t kill her where people could see him do it.”

“He might. It’s called being devious.”

Blushing to the roots of her hair by this point, Ninette moved on to the next hole with Jason close behind. They had played three more holes and were well away from the smaller group before either of them spoke again.

“I wasn’t going to kill you, you know.”

“Reassuring,” she responded drily.

I am currently working on a purchasable paper version of Vacation.

Pt 3 of 4 (taken out of order. Big gap.)

An hour later, she found herself looking over the side of an old fortress.

“Can you imagine the effort that would have to go into something like this?” she asked, running her hands over the stone. “The shell cement, the size of the rocks, each one having to be placed just so.”

“Ah, never take a historian to a fort, eh?”

“By gods, take a look at this-!”

“Whoa!” He lunged over to grab the back of her shirt as she tilted dangerously over the edge of the wall. “Would you mind staying on top of the fort, please? Or at least going down via the usual ways? Like stairs?”

She laughed, let him pull her up, and leaned back on the wall. “It’s just remarkable! Bloody remarkable!”

He eyed her proximity to a gap in the wall and came over to lean beside her. “It is pretty interesting. Then again, it’s pretty interesting that they came all the way from Spain to be here. A journey that would’ve taken months, maybe even more than a year in their time. And they didn’t even have the amenities that we have on ships now.”

Oh, be still my throbbing historical heart.

“Want to go see the barracks, then?”

“Surely.”

He held out his arm with exaggerated courtesy and led her down the steps to the area in question.

“Rather dim, isn’t it?”

She looked around. “Worse than that, crowded. There would have been at least forty men in here.”

“Uncomfortable where women are concerned, eh?” He leaned over like he was going to give her a quick hug, then leaned back. “Well. I think there’s a gift shop. Interested?”

“Hm…I guess. Can’t imagine what they’d be selling though. Rocks? Gun bits?”

“You might be pleasantly surprised.”

She wasn’t. There were fake guns, real gun bits, maps, whistles, and other such things she felt belonged under the title of “boy gifts”.

“What about these?” Jason held up a box bearing the titled Calligraphy.

Shuffling around a stand of wooden whistles, she came over to look at them. He was holding it about chest height and she ended up balancing herself on her toes and grabbing his arm to get a look.

“Ooh, glass pens!”

“Glass pens?” He flipped the box to look at the back. “Oh! Glass calligraphy pens. Do you think it works better than brass?”

“Steel, anymore.”

“Steel, then.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a chance to use one of the glass ones.”

“Would you like to?”

“Will you try them with me?”

His smile made her acutely aware that she was leaning on him. That her hands were closed over warm skin and taut muscle. Her breasts were brushing his ribs. His breath was rustling her hair.

She jumped back. “I mean the pens, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I just couldn’t resist the innuendo.”

“You’re a bad man.” She accused.

“No. Sadly, I’m a good man.” He gave her a little half smile. “Let’s go shopping before I change my mind about that.”

Current work Pt2

Ninette stood at the baggage claim feeling patently stupid. She’d allowed herself to be herded into a vacation that she wasn’t sure she could afford in terms of her relationship (that had been a hard admission halfway through a fairly heavy bout of airsickness) and wasn’t even sure she wanted. Yet here she was standing in the airport waiting for her “mystery ride.”

Yes, to compound all the other stupidities, she didn’t even know who she was looking for. Her mother had said “You’ll know” and smiled. Great.

Digging her phone out of her carry-on, she alternated glancing around the room with looking for her bag.

A tall woman with her face frozen in a grimace barely even got a thought. She was collected by a much younger man that caused her eyes to soften while utterly failing to do anything about the botox around her mouth.

Next was a tiny old woman worriedly wringing her hands and looking through the crowd. After a moment of thought, Ninette concluded that she probably didn’t know the woman. A few more moments and she was sure as the woman rushed up to a set of children, clucking about them like an anxious hen.

An older man who had managed to catch her eye with distinguished silver hair and a literary look was tackled by a twenty-something giggling blonde cleavage on legs. She wondered who he was trying to impress, as none of the other people were so much as glancing at them.

High pitched laughter drew her eyes to another area of the room and a flamboyantly dressed man pressing himself on a quiet, embarrassed business man. The business man was trying to hush his partner and edge out of the room without drawing too much attention.

Shame. I don’t think there’s a person in the room who isn’t looking at this juncture.

Her bag slid past and she tugged at it, unsuccessfully trying to get it off one-handed.

“Here.” A long, muscular, tan arm reached around her and lifted it easily, setting it on the ground by her feet.

Turning, she gestured towards the phone with her free hand. “Thanks, I was just trying not to- Oh.” Her stomach slammed to her feet and her heart pounded frantically.

“Hey.”

Tall, muscled, tan, smiling. Jason, her first real crush at seven, now in his midtwenties and absolutely heart stoppingly sexy. Velvety brown eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as they met hers.

Oh no…

“Hello? Ninette?”

She started guiltily and held up a finger, turning her attention back to the phone. “Hey, I was just letting you know I’ve landed. I’m here.”

“Is your ride there?”

She glanced at Jason and blushed a deep, painful crimson. “Yeah.”

“You found them alright?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright. Call me sometime later, ok?”

“Ok.” She snapped the phone shut crisply and turned back to Jason. “Sorry.”

“Your fiancé?”

“Mm.”

He looked ready to say something, closed his mouth and started again, “Want me to carry the bag?”

“If you would. I packed a lot heavier than I meant to.”

“Books, I’d be willing to bet.” His smile invited her to share in the joke.

She yawned and covered her mouth quickly. “Gosh, sorry. I’m just…beat.”

“That’s fine. Let’s go get you to bed.”

She nodded, yawned again, and followed him out into the parking lot where he packed her and her bags into a truck.

“So…how’s life?”

“Mm…shitty. Lost my job, boring classes. You know, the usual. You?”

“Busy. Lots of work, school, trying to figure out if I want to go to a graduate school or just straight into the field.”

He was silent for so long that she started to fall asleep, her head tilting slowly towards his shoulder.

“What about Dave?”

She jumped a little and readjusted into her corner of the cab. “Um…It’s…ok.”

“That’s pretty hesitant. Should I cancel my tickets?”

“Ha ha, no.” Her laughter was so stiff she wondered how he could manage not to notice.

“You ok?”

“Just tired.”

The car rounded a corner into a dark little side street and bumped along slowly for a few minutes before turning again and stopping.

“We’re here.”

She looked out the window blearily. A two story house with a light on in a loft area loomed out of the darkness.

“S’ a house…”

“Bed and breakfast” he corrected, a warm dark presence on the other side of the cab. “Are we going to get out and go in or just sit here?”

“Well, I mean, it’s pretty late to be checking in, isn’t it?”

“I checked us in earlier today.”

“Us…” she turned the word over in her mind. “So you’ll be staying here too?”

“Yup.” He stretched. “Ready to go check it out?”

“Sure.”

The room turned out to be the one with a light on. The loft room. Luckily it had its own entrance or they would have woken up half the building. It was decorated in soft neutral colors: green and suede-like brown with accents of yellow.

“It’s lovely.” She tilted her head back to look at the light fixtures and let her backpack fall to the plush cream carpet. “What’s your room like?”

He chuckled. “You’re looking at it.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I can’t really blame her. While she could have gotten two rooms for about this price at a hotel.”

“But…”

“Afraid you can’t control yourself around me?”

“No.” Yes.

“Well, alright then.” He set her luggage down on a chair. “I guess you can take the bathroom first.”

She looked around the room, stuck her head in a little closet and checked out the bathroom. “One bed?”

Jason looked up from his position on the bed curled up to a book. “Yeah.”

“Jason! I’m getting married next month, I can’t share a bed with you!”

“Is he here?” he asked logically.

“No, but-“

“Are you going to tell him? I’m not.”

“Well, yes, but-“

He put the book down and came over to her, tipping her chin up. “Hey. It’s nothing, ok?”

“Ok…” she mumbled faintly.

“Ok. Now go get your shower while I figure out what to wear to sleep in.”

Feeling a flaming blush working its way up her neck, she grabbed her toiletries bag and ducked into the shelter of the bathroom.

By the time she got out, Jason was curled up on his side, book folded over a limp hand. Smiling, she took it from him and put it on the bedside table.

“Hm?” He stirred sleepily.

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh.” He stretched showing a hands width of flat, tan stomach with the slightest wisp of hair.

Trying to pretend that she hadn’t been gaping, Ninette gestured to the bathroom. “It’s all yours. There’s some nice shampoo in there.”

“I wasn’t going to shower. Just needed to brush my teeth.”

She gave him an odd look.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever known a man who bothered to brush his teeth before he went to sleep.”

He shrugged. “Just trying to be courteous.”

When he went into the bathroom, she slid into the bed, feeling the warmth on the sheets where he’d been laying. With a sheepish glance towards the bathroom, she leaned over and sniffed delicately at his pillow.

It smelled like shampoo, sun, ocean, and just the tiniest hint of a cologne.

She took a deeper breath and smiled.

I guess it’s true: you never forget your first crush.

Declaration of Intent

I intend to post clips twice weekly (my choice of days). Hopefully, I can stick with this intention.

Most current work P1

Ninette sighed, laying her head down on the desk and hoping she’d be able to stay awake for the next hour and a half. Not the longest class on her schedule by a long run, but hard to sit through anyway.

She took notes dutifully, scribbling in the margins and contributing a thought occasionally just to stay alert. Ten minutes before the bell was due to ring, her phone started buzzing.

Fuck.

A quick press of one of the side buttons made the buzzing stop, but she knew it would start again in a moment when Jaqueline called again.

Zzzz.

Zzzz.

Zzzz.

“Excuse me, could you turn that off?” the man behind her tapped her shoulder.

A hot blush crept up over her cheeks. “Yes. Sorry.” She flipped it open and off.

The end of class was greeted with a combination of relief and irritation. Relief that she didn’t have to force herself to pay attention anymore, irritation that she’d have to call Jaqueline back.

“Hey, Ninnette, this is Jaqueline. Call me back.”

“Ninnette, I wish you’d answer your phone when I call. Call me back.”

“This is Jaqueline, Ninnette. I need to speak to you. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

She pressed her fingertip to the corner of her eye to still the twitching as the phone rang again.

“Ye-es?”

“Jeesh, no need to be a bitch. I was just going to ask what we’re doing for dinner.”

“Oh, god, sorry Dave. I just got about a billion messages from Jaqueline, while I was in class, and you know I’ve-“

“Yeah, ok. So do you have it handled or not?”

Count to ten. Her eye twitched harder. “No. I do not have dinner handled. I am going to be at work until god knows what time of night. I could be home at five or I could be home at midnight, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since fucking March!”

“Men-o-pause-al. Call me back when you calm down.” The line went dead.

“He fucking hung up on me!”

People turned to stare at her and she ducked her head sheepishly, walking quickly outside and heading for the car. Her head was pounding, and it was only two.

“Hey, Zoey. Got all your stuff?”

The girl nodded and tucked her book under her arm.

“Jacket? Lunchbox? Homework folder?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“Got much homework?”

She shrugged. “Math. I finished half of it in class.”

“Great. We can try a new card game today, hm?”

“Sure.”

Ninette grimaced and powered the car door open, getting in the driver’s seat as Zoey settled in the back. “Hop in, we’ll wait for your sister to show up.”

“She’s gonna be forever.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Zoey watched her in the rearview mirror for a minute before pulling out her book. Ninette puffed out her cheeks and pulled hers out as well.

Chloe showed up almost twenty minutes later in a group of girls and waved goodbye to them as she opened the car door.

“Move over, Zoey!”

“I was in here first. Go around.”

“Zoey!”

“She’s already settled, Chloe, just climb over or go around.”

The older girl huffed and clambered over her sister with the maximum amount of thrashing and pulling. Ninette ignored the whines and snaps until they had settled down again, then pulled out into traffic.

“Do you have much homework?”

“Just a couple of health worksheets, some math, and a little science.”

“Lovely. Well, when you get done, I’ve got a new card game for the three of us to try.”

“Hm.”

Traffic was heavier than usual and Ninette found herself glancing at the gas meter every few minutes on the way back to their house. It wasn’t at the bottom, but it hadn’t been working well lately, so she wasn’t sure if she could trust it or not.

“Can I have a cookie when we get home?” Zoey asked.

“If there are any.”

“Can I have one too?”

“Yup.”

They pulled into the tiny parking pad, tree branches scraping over the top of the minivan. “Alright, make sure you get all your stuff this time, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is about you putting away and extra handful of dishes!”

“Jaqueline.” Ninette took a deep breath. “I was hired as a babysitter. With specific functions. One of those was to clear out the dishwasher. Other than that, I wasn’t even told to do more than make sure the girls didn’t make an exceptional mess. I was not hired as a maid.”

“You sit around the house all day on the couch, reading a book, and you can’t even clean up the dishes?”

“That. Is. Not. My. Job.”

“Well, I’m telling you your job description has changed. Are you going to do it or not?”

After all the times I stayed here until seven in the evening or later when you didn’t even call? All the times you called me when I’d given you a-no, SEVERAL- schedules stating that it was a bad time to call me? All those stupid little “Can you go back for?” incidents? Slurs, comments, a billion and one little condescending little attitudes?

“No.”

“Then I don’t think we’ll be needing you here anymore.”

Ninette sighed. “I’ll mail you my hours.” She grabbed her umbrella from beside the door, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and walked down to her car.

Tossing it inside, she slid into the front seat and slammed the car door shut. Her movements as she turned on the headlights, started the engine, and put the car into gear were harsh and jerky.

She drove carefully, knowing her mind wasn’t completely on the road, and was still surprised to find herself pulling onto the gravel in front of Dave’s house. The lights were on, television casting its lights against the ceiling.

At least he’s not still out.

Sticking her keys in her pocket, she walked in and looked around. Laundry was all over the furniture, dishes on the table just barely visible under a pile of socks, couch under a mass of towels.

“What…?”

Alerted by her voice, Dave stuck his head in from the laundry room. “Hey, where’s my Corbett shirt?”

“Your Corbett shirt? How should I know?”

“You were the last one to do the laundry.”

“Well, I know I was, but I just fold things for you to take upstairs, I don’t know where you stick anything.”

He grimaced and disappeared again. “Fuck.”

She picked a shirt up off the floor and started to fold it, then sniffed and set it back down. “Did you throw the dirty laundry out here too?”

“Yeah.”

“So I need to wash everything again.” Her voice was completely deadpan.

“I don’t know, I guess. Not like you wouldn’t have to do it eventually anyway.”

“Yes, but in bits and pieces, not everything at once.”

“Are you on the fucking rag?” He reappeared from around the corner to glare at her. “It’s not like I’m asking you to clean the whole house, just do some laundry. And help me find my damn shirt.”

Deep breath. She counted to twenty, then to forty. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to head home.”

“Fine.” He spat as she closed the door. All the way back to the car she could hear him shouting imprecations after her through the closed door.

“You’re home early.”

“Please do not start with me right now.”

“I wasn’t starting anything, just noting that you’re home early, can’t I note that my daughter is home early?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out.” Ninette dug through the cabinets, looking for a tea bag.

“The cake lady called today. Said something about needing a design?”

“Hm.”

“You’ve only got a month to go, you know. You really ought to call her back.”

“I’m going to.”

“Pre-wedding jitters?”

“No.”

Her mother leaned around the arm of her chair to look at her oddly. “You’re in a nasty mood tonight.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Care to talk about it?”

She started to snap something, then stopped. “Yes, actually. Today I was absolutely beat from working on the bloody paper for Sociology last night, I got six calls from Jaqueline when I was in class, got chewed out by Jaqueline for refusing to do something not in my job description, quit my job, and nearly tore off my fiance’s head because he completely trashed the house which we’ve-“

“You’ve.”

“-been trying to get clean for the wedding so we-“

“You.”

“-can come home to a clean house after the honeymoon.” She glared at her mother.

“Sounds like you need some down time.”

“Definitely. There’s no time for downtime though.”

Ellen looked thoughtful.

Exasperated, Ninette slapped a teabag into a mug, filled it with water, and put it in the microwave.

“Would you want some down time if you could get it?” Ellen asked over the microwave beeps. “Like next week, maybe?”

“Love it.”

“Enough to take off a week of class?”

“Next week is Thanksgiving break, so yeah.”

“Alright then.”

“What?” Ninette pulled the tea out and went to look at her mother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to send you on a little vacation.” Elllen smiled smugly.

“You barely let me vacation when I’m on vacation with you all. What do you mean ‘sending me on vacation’?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m going to pay for a plane ticket and a room for you. Where do you want to go? No, I know. You’ll go to St. Augustine.”

“Wa-“

“You like St. Augustine. You can shop a little. Unwind. Should be slow this time of year.”

“You want me to go by myself? Is that even safe?”

“No, of course not by yourself. I’ll make sure there’s someone there to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, not Aunt Anne!”

“No. Not Aunt Anne. You’ll see when you get there.”

“Maybe I should just take Dave with me…”

Ellen snorted. “Weren’t you just saying that Dave was part of the problem?”

“I didn’t say anything of the-“

“You meant it though. He’s driving you crazy right now. You just need some time by yourself to step back and put it all in perspective.”

“I…suppose.”

“Darn right. Now, get your stuff in line and be ready to go by Friday night.”

“But it’s Wednesday already!”

“Do you want to go or not?”

In the beginning...

In the beginning, there was the will to write. On many things.

By which I mean furniture, walls, clothing, and other children. (Adults never held still long enough)

Then there was paper.

Finally, computers became available, allowing the transmittance of thoughts straight to a readable format. Which is where you come in.