#BlogBattle 70: Derelict – Finding Home

🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This is a story that I started as part of a writing exercise created by the illustrious Candice Coates.  The original was just a thought, hope this revised edition is an improvement.

This week’s word:  Derelict

Genre:  Contemporary/Inspirational

 
Finding Home

Addison takes the Lasagna out of the oven, puts in the garlic bread and sets the timer. She pulls the salad out of the fridge, sets it on the table a few steps away. She thinks to herself, oh what I wouldn’t give for a large kitchen. Being that she loves to cook, a couple of times a month, she prepares dinner and invites her friend Bryce. They have known each other since Junior High; both of their families are really good friends. There have never been any romantic feelings between them; they simply enjoy each other’s company. Both have demanding jobs during the week, and this is how they like to spend their Saturday evenings, together, two friends breaking bread and catching up.

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Addison walks to the door and opens it. Bryce comes in carrying a bottle of wine, and what looks to be a bakery box. He hands her the wine. “Ohhh what’s in the box?” She inquires.

“Just you wait and see, I may even share. The traffic is horrendous in this city.”

“I tell you every time, take the train. You never listen.”

“I don’t take trains. Besides I have an F150 pickup, it can handle anything.”

“Except traffic, obviously.” She says under her breath, but Bryce doesn’t hear her.

The timer goes off, she removes the garlic bread and plates the food, while Bryce pours the wine.

Dinner conversation flows easily between these two friends. Filling each other in about their jobs; hers a Financial Advisor, his, the owner of a construction company. When they are done, Bryce clears away the dishes, and brings two plates and the bakery box to the table. “I’ll be nice and share, you sound like you’ve had some kind of week.”

He opens the box to reveal a decadent Black Forest Cake, cuts them each a slice, and smiles at her reaction as he sets her slice in front of her. He knows this is her favorite. “Enjoy.”

They savor the first few bites without a word. Bryce breaks the silence by asking, “So. Why is your job stresses you out so much? That’s not like you, you love your job.”

She nods her head and replies, “I do. It’s just that lately, I’m getting tired of this whole big city life. See, you played it smart, you found a place outside the city to live and commute. Me? I had to have it all, the high power job, the fancy clothes, and the expensive apartment. I felt like I outgrew our small town and needed to expand my horizons. But now, I think I might miss it.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Funny you should ask. I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Okay, spill it.”

“My cousin Sharon let me know that my parent’s house is being auctioned. I think I might want to buy it.”

“What? How long has it been empty? What kind of shape is it in?”

“What I know for sure is that my sister sold it to a guy who rented it out, before he let it go into foreclosure. I don’t have all the details yet, she is going to send me that information, and said she could get me in there to see it. Soooo…that’s where you come in. Would you go with me to look at it?”

“You know I will. But what if it needs a lot of work? How will you get it done?”

She rests her chin on her hand, and just looks at him with a slight smile, batting her eyes at him.

“Addy!!” he chides.

“Please Bryce? Just look at it with me. If it’s a lot of work, I’m willing to do it, but I need you to help me. I have tons of vacation time racked up. I plan to use it, to work on the house and find another job. I need a change, and a project I am passionate about. My folks loved that house, they always wanted one of us to have it. I never really wanted it, so that is why I let my sister have it. But now…I just have to get it back.”

Bryce lets out an exasperated sigh, “You know I’d do anything for you Addy.”

With a huge smile Addison says, “Thank you so much, can we go see it tomorrow?”

Reluctantly he says, “Yes. But I get to take the cake home with me.”

“Deal. You’re the best.” She gets up and gives him a hug.

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a laugh.

~ ♦ ~

The next morning Bryce and Addison make the hour long drive back to their hometown. With some new developments, the landscape has changed, but the feel is still the same. It feels like home.

There’s a realtor already there waiting for them, talking on her phone. She waves to them as she finishes her call.

Addison gets out of the car. She stops in front of the house and just stares at it, it’s worse than she thought it would be. Her only thought, how can anyone allow a home to lay derelict for so long?

She forces her legs to move forward. “Hello, Addison, I’m Megan, I’m good friends with Sharon. You ready to take a look?”

“Hi Megan, this is my friend Bryce, nice to meet you. Would it be possible for us to take a look by ourselves?”

“Sure, go right ahead.”

Bryce and Addison enter the house. So much of it is familiar, but yet different. The house is not only dirty, but there are still a few household items lying around, as if someone needed to leave in a hurry. Everywhere she looks, it is in need of repair. Bryce looks at it differently he points out all the good, as they move from room to room.

They approach the last room, Addison inquires, “So you’re saying that it’s not beyond repair?”

“Yes, in my opinion, the structure is good, it just looks really bad. It won’t be easy or quick, but it can be done. I’m up for the challenge if you are. Let’s see what this room looks like.”

She rests her hand on his chest to stop him from moving forward. “That was my room, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go in there alone.”

“I know, take your time, I’ll go look around some more.”

The door whispers on its hinges as her fingers gently push it open, her stomach leaps as the light from the window washes over the scene inside the room. It is completely empty. She had forgotten just how much sunlight poured into this room at this time of day. Once she steps over the threshold, it’s as if all the memories that were contained within these walls came out to greet her.

Closing her eyes, she hears the joyful laughter of a little girl playing with her Fischer Price schoolhouse, and the conversations between her Barbie Dolls. She hears music playing; the one constant in this room, only the tempo and rhythm changing to fit the mood or year. She heard telephone conversations that left her broken hearted, and a lifelong memory of first love lost. She felt the soft, fluffy fur of the golden retriever nuzzled against her, enveloping her with unconditional love as his cool, wet, nose brushed against her cheek as he licked away her tears. She pictures the walls covered in posters of her would-be boyfriend; a young John Stamos. She heard giggles and squeals of teenage girls, and felt the affect of sleepless nights as hopes and dreams were shared until the sun came up. She felt her mom’s warm embrace and heard her always encouraging words, “don’t let anyone dull your sparkle…believe in yourself…you can do anything you set your mind to.” These words spoken in love always eliminating any disappointment she felt within herself.

As if her mother was there, encouraging here again, she felt a peace and calm, knowing this was the right thing to do. Her parents loved this home, it was the only one they had ever known. She could make it a home of her own, yet honor their memory as well. She opens her eyes, and quickly walks out of her bedroom.

She finds Bryce looking around in the kitchen. When he sees her he asks, “So?”

Without saying a word, she nods her head yes. Her face is overtaken by a content smile, and a hint of a tear rests in the corner of her eye.

“Ok then, let’s do this” Bryce enthusiastically says, as he drapes his arm over her shoulders and leads her back outside.

She walks up to Megan and says, “I’ll take it.”

“Excellent!! It has a lot of potential, and with some work and a little TLC it can be a beautiful place you can call home.” Megan replies with her well-trained enthusiasm.

With a wistful smile, Addison agrees, “I already do.”

© 2016 Carrie Ann

Check out Candice’s Blog here.

#BlogBattle 69: Hazel – The Trip of a Lifetime

🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This Week’s Word: Hazel

Genre: Contemporary/Inspirational

 

The Trip of a Lifetime

Even though Michael and Nita own their Hair Salon together, and see each other every day, they sometimes meet outside of work to catch up or just hang out.

Michael has been away for a couple of days, his Aunt Hazel recently passed away. He was summoned by her lawyer, for the reading of her will. He was saddened when he heard the news of her passing, he has so many fond memories of long summer evenings spent with her, just sitting on her back porch talking until the lightning bugs came out. Even on the hottest of days, they sat and drank coffee, and snacked on Sara Lee Coffee Cake. She would bring out the flavored coffee creamers whenever she had company, calling herself fancy. But never once did she have Hazelnut Coffee Cream.

One day Michael asked her about it, “Why don’t you ever have Hazelnut Coffee Cream?”

Shaking her head she says “Because it offends me.”

Trying not to laugh, “How can it offend you? You mean it doesn’t agree with you?”

More adamant, she replied, “No. That’s the name I was teased with as a kid. I refuse to have such a thing in my house, let alone drink it.”

He smiles at the memories, and continues his drive home. It’s amazing how drastically life can change in the blink of an eye.

About an hour from home, he calls Nita. He wants to talk to her without the interruptions of a busy day.

“Hey, I’m on my way back, let’s meet somewhere to grab something to eat. I want to tell you all about my trip.”

“Ok great, I just found this wonderful new sub shop, called Firehouse Subs, it’s decorated like a firehouse, and was actually founded by fireman.”

“Ohhhh sounds delicious.”

“Michael, they’re just subs. It’s in the strip mall on 119th Street. What time should I meet you there?”

“I can be there in an hour. Oh, and Nita, I wasn’t talking about the subs. Bye!!” he disconnects the call with a smile on his face.

As they walk up to the sub shop, Michael reads the sign on the door aloud, “Founded by Fireman, Ohhh that’s fun, I hope we run into some. I mean literally run into them.” He turns his head and nods as he looks at Nita and opens the door.

Giving him a playful push through the door, “Oh my god Michael, behave.” Nita says shaking her head.

After taking far too long to decide what he wanted to order, they finally get their food and find a table and sit down.

“So tell me all about your trip.”

“Well. The ride down is always nice, the weather was gorgeous, I was cruising in my ‘stang with the top down, and the tunes cranked up, the wind in my hair and not a care in the world.” He dramatically says as he looks off into the distance.

“Michael” Nita startles him out of his reverie. “How about you get to the part about meeting the lawyer.” She nods her head with a smile as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

He clutches his chest and laments, “You wound me with your harshness.”

With a dramatic eye roll, Nita takes another bite of her sandwich.

“Fine. I was getting to that part anyway. It seems that dear Aunt Hazel had a secret. Pfsh, like I didn’t already know.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Really?” With eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

Michael knowingly nods his head and hands her an envelope, “The lawyer said he was instructed by my aunt to inform me of my inheritance, and then give me this letter to read. Here, read it for yourself.”

Nita wipes her hands on a napkin and reaches over to take the envelope. She pulls a folded letter from it and begins to read it to herself.

My Dearest Michael –

Surprised? I can just picture you now, your mouth wide open, and you frantically fanning yourself like you are about to pass out. Close your mouth, and calm down, no need getting all verklempt.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to make everyone happy by doing what was expected of me, and what was right. I have decided that in my passing, I will finally do what I want. You and your mother are the only family I have left. Well, there is actually someone else. There always has been someone else, and I think you already knew that. She is the other beneficiary.

Being neighbors for so many years, and then young widowers for many more, Rose and I formed a bond that went beyond friendship. Our husband’s life insurance policies paid off our houses, and left us enough money to live a comfortable life. Together we invested wisely, and multiplied what we had. We had a good life together, and we were very happy.

She adores you, she remembers all the conversations we all had talking about traveling and seeing the world. That is what I want for you Michael. I have watched you live your life to the fullest, not caring what anyone thinks of you or your choices. I want you to use this inheritance to travel and see the world. I want you to be happy. Please resist the urge to put this money into your business. You are smart as a whip and a damn good hair stylist, your business will be just fine.

One final request. Please look after Rose for me, and be sure to send her a postcard from all the far away lands you visit.

Love-
Aunt Hazel

“Wow Michael, that is wonderful!! When is your first trip? Where is your first trip?” truly excited for him.

“Well. Before I left, I went to visit Rose. We had a nice visit. Turns out, her granddaughter is having one of those destination weddings in Hawaii. Rose didn’t want to travel alone, so she thought she would miss it.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, “I suggested that I be her plus one. The wedding is in December.” Thinking nothing of it, he takes a bite of his sandwich, then looks up at Nita.

She is just staring at him with a huge smile on her face.

“What?” He questions.

“Michael!! You are simply the best.” She says with admiration.

“Yeah, I know…it’s a gift.” He replies with a smirk.

Nita wads up a napkin and throws it at him. Shaking her head, she smiles and rolls her eyes.

© 2016 Carrie Ann

Happy Homemaker Monday 08.22.16

Good Afternoon!!  Late afternoon post, but all good.  Getting into the swing of things with school, very different this year, but getting better day by day.  Had some cool mornings, so that has been nice to wake up to.  Hope everyone is doing well.

Linking-up with Sandra at Diary of a Stay at Home Mom.

THE WEATHER OUTSIDE IS:

weather0822

LOL CHUCKLES, AND GIGGLES:
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RECIPE I HAVE TRIED:
I actually made these, they were pretty good. I did half a batch. Can’t go wrong with peanut butter and chocolate.

HOMETOWN FUN:
Our little town is constantly growing and improving. There is always something to do. This past weekend, our Animal Shelter had their open house, they have a new facility, and I took Livi and the boys to check it out. They have a lot of cats, one is so fat, that it has it’s own room.  He was pretty, completely fluffy black with green eyes. Yes, I am a dog person, but the cats are growing on me, not that I think I would ever own one, but they are pretty. There were 2 week old kittens there too. Only a couple of dogs, but it was a nice facility and very friendly people. As we left, my mom was sure that Livi did not have a large bag or over-sized sweater to sneak an animal back into the house, lol. Here are some pics of the fur friends we met.

This one was a beautiful tan color.

 

These two just chillin’

 

This little cutie

 

This one just brought in. Beautiful color, gray fur on the face.

 

FROM THE CAMERA:
These are the stars my mom bought at the new local shop that just opened. It has some really nice vintage home stuff, and reasonably priced. The place has hard wood floors and the exposed brick walls, a fun place to browse and shop.

Our last Day Lily

QUOTES:

 

Throwback Thursday

Since school has started, seems like time for me is non-existent.  So, I did not get a chance to get my Monday post together, or join in the Blogbattle, so I thought I’d share one of my favorite blog posts from the past.  This was linked to Five Minute Friday.  I know I took longer than 5 minutes to put this together, back then I was just looking for writing prompts to get my creativity flowing.  Enjoy!!


Five-Minute-Friday-4It’s Friday again!!  Linking up with Kate Motaung for Five Minute Friday.  If you would like to join in or learn more about it, click on the icon to the left.  Write for 5 minutes, here we go.

TODAY’S PROMPT: STILL

GO…

I have always been fascinated by abandoned buildings.  That’s why I love coming across these photographers now on the Internet, that capture the mystery of these forgotten dwellings.  My favorite photographer is Andre Govia.  I like to look at these photos and see the different objects that still remain; especially pianos.  My first thought is, who leaves a piano behind?  I know they aren’t easy to move, but still…it’s a piano!!  There are so many more questions that go through my head as I study the details of these photos and admire the beautiful architecture.  I look past the sadness of what now is, and try to find the beauty in what once was.

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I wonder what types of events took place in this room, how many different people actually passed through this room over the years?  Was it used for parties and family gatherings, or was it only occupied by one person as they honed their skills?

Great-white-piano-in-abandoned-manor-house

How many times was this piano forced to play “Copacabana”, “Fur Elise” or simply “Happy Birthday?”  Was it always alone or did it get the chance to enjoy the company of other instruments?  Were there only classically trained musicians who sat down at the keys, or did small sticky fingers bang enthusiastically on them out of curiosity?  Or, was there someone that found solace alone in this room as they poured their heart out through their fingers dancing across the ivory?  Why is it still here?

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Most people probably look at these photos and only see the deterioration of a forgotten place and the destruction of neglect.  But those of us who can look past all that, will see the beauty of all the possible memories that are preserved within those four walls and still remain.

STOP…PENCILS DOWN

#BlogBattle 67: Tea – My Cup of Tea

🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

Recently a friend of mine was surprised when they found out I had begun writing. Since then, they have been encouraging me to continue participating in the blogbattles. Surprisingly, I found they have some writing skills of their own. This story is our collaboration.

This Week’s Word: Tea

Genre: Drama/Romance

My Cup of Tea

The whistle breaks the silence of the day. Patrick walks over to the stove, turns the gas off, and removes the kettle from the front burner. He walks over to the kitchen table, already having placed his last tea bag in his cup, he slowly pours the water filling the cup just below the brim. Returning the kettle and its remaining contents to the stove, Patrick finally sits down to begin his ritual of preparing his tea just right, when he pauses in mid-lift. He soaks in the quietness, as he recalls the bustling activities of the last few days.

His daughter, Jasmine, caught her flight back home this morning, making quite the fuss about wanting to stay longer, but having so much on her plate back at work. Just this morning alone, he assured her a dozen times that he would be fine. But would he. How could he be so sure, this was all new territory. The truth was, he had never buried a wife before. Never been forced to say goodbye to the love of his life. Never experienced this home without her lovely voice filling up the rooms. And he had never had his afternoon tea without her pleasant conversation as the main dish, but he was about to for the very first time. He lowers the tea bag back into his cup, as the first tear runs down the side of his cheek.

He had hidden this last tea bag, so that the guests in the house would not indulge in it. He knew he would need something special to get him through these first lonely hours. It was her favorite after all, Chocolate Chai Tea. Who was he kidding, he liked it just as much as she did; them both being chocolate lovers. Yet he always let her have the last tea bag. Every…single…time, until today.

He adds a splash of milk, and a little bit of sugar, finishing it just the way they both liked it. Raising the cup he allows the steam to dance around his nose, until the decadent smell of chocolate overtakes his senses. With the first sip of chocolate mingled with spice, he closes his eyes, and just like that, he is taken back to a few weeks before when they sat in this very spot planning their next trip. Actually, every trip they had ever taken had been planned at this very table over a cup of tea. She was the planner, the one who wanted to see the world. “So much good stuff to see Patrick,” she would tell him during the planning phase. He was the homebody type, he had seen more than he wanted at an early age. He became her designated driver, and went along with whatever she planned.

Taking another drink, the irony was not lost on him that he could now remain safely home, where he had always preferred. But now, she was on a long trip alone, without him.

Their next trip was to see their eldest daughter, and her kids. Angela was beaming with joy. She loved those grandkids, and loved spoiling them more. Now that they were teenagers, she knew they would be heading out on their own adventures soon, so this trip was going to be big!! She talked about the sights they would see, the things they would do. How she would take them shopping and what she would buy them. She understood the younger generation and what they liked, and she knew exactly where to look and how to find the bargains. That’s what he loved about her most, she didn’t have to worry about trying to stretch a dime, but she did it anyway. She once told him that was her contribution, he made the money, she made it stretch. With another drink, a smile crosses his lips, all he ever wanted to do was make her happy. After all, she was his angel.

That’s what he called her the first time he met her. The local Y hosted a Military Dance the night before a new group of young men, fresh from boot camp, were to be shipped out on their first tour in Vietnam. He recalls the moment he saw her, as she walked in, dressed in white, her reddish brown hair hanging down her back shimmering like silk. She was a vision, an object of desire by many of the boys in uniform who couldn’t take their eyes off of her. It didn’t faze her one bit, she was having too much fun with her group of friends. She politely turned down most of the requests for dances, and if she did dance with a soldier, it was always to an upbeat tune, never a slow dance. Patrick spent most of his time just watching her, talking and laughing, deciding which boy she would dance with next. He was smitten.

After a long set of more upbeat songs, the music slowed, the easy melody of “Something” by the Beatles filled the room. Without hesitation, yet with the grace of a dancer, she walked right up to him and said, “Hello Soldier, may I have this dance?”

With a smile on his face that he could not contain, she took him by the hand and led him to the dance floor. Yes, I am the luckiest guy in this room, he thought at the time. All eyes were on them as they found a clearing on the floor. She turned to him, took his hand, and placed it firmly on the small of her back. Together they began to sway to the music, their bodies brushing up against each other. He remembered how they had danced the entire song without a word spoken. When the next song began, they remained in each other’s grasp, but neither moved an inch. He introduced himself, gazing into her green eyes that sparkled with flecks of gold, “My name is Patrick, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you Patrick, I’m Angela.”

“Well Angela, that’s a perfect name. Dressed in all white, moving across the floor like you do, you look like an Angel.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen any angel dressed in a mini skirt and go-go boots,” she tilted her head and laughed so sweet it filled his soul.

“Well, God does work in mysterious ways,” matching her laugh with one of his own.

That one song brought them together, and they remained inseparable the rest of the night talking, and dancing. The night came to an end with a long hug and a slow kiss filled with promise of a future, because if he did survive, he knew she was the one. It was a night he would never forget. His last night in the states, yet it was made special by a beautiful girl, who promised to write. A girl he knew he would think about to get him through his upcoming days.

She did in fact become his angel, by keeping that promise and writing him beautiful letters. Her words reminded him of the beauty that still existed in this world despite the horror that he was seeing daily. While he wrote of those horrors and the difficulty others were having keeping their human spirit intact, her letters bought calm to him at night and allowed him to get a few hours of peace in the middle of his hell. With each and every new letter, she talked about home, about making a home for the two of them, and about seeing all the beautiful places that still existed. She would always end those letters with the knowledge, that even she could not explain, that he would survive, and would come home, back to her. Her love scrolled across paper made everything better, she made him believe that he would be fine and they would have a beautiful future together. Her words cleansed him each time he read them, making him able to fully devote his life to her. For she had saved the boy in the war, and allowed a man to come home.

Laughter from outside stirred him back to reality. He turns towards the window and takes in the laughter as it passes and fades. He realizes that there will be no happy trip now, or ever again; at least not together. He takes a shallow breath in and slowly exhales saying, “Oh Angel, how will I ever get through these days without you here with me?”

He lifts his cup, another taste, another memory. A long missing laugh escapes his mouth. He remembers those letters, not hers this time, but his letters. He had always asked her that very question each day he wrote to her. “How will I ever get through these days without you here with me?” Her response was always the same, “You will, because I am there with you, I will always be there with you, right in your heart. My love will protect you and bring you back home.” He hears those words in his head as clearly as if she were sitting right there. He closes his eyes, and he sees her, just as beautiful as the day he met her. He leans his head as if listening to music He begins to softly hum “Something.”

He looks into his almost empty cup, bringing it to his lips, he closes his eyes to savor these last drops in his mouth. He reaches his hand across the table. A wide smile overtakes his face, as his out stretched hand gives a squeeze. He speaks out softly, “Yes, Angel, you already know don’t you, just like you always have. I will be just fine.” He gets up and takes his cup to the kitchen sink. “That is good to know.” He places the cup in the sink, “It has always been good to know.”

 © 2016