Category Archives: short story

#BlogBattle: Pure – Week 50 – Pure Love

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🙂 It’s Tuesday again, time for #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:  Pure

Genre:  Contemporary

Pure Love

Ever since she was a little girl, my daughter Evie longed for a puppy of her own. Being a dog-lover myself, and knowing how it was to grow up with a dog, I also wanted this for my daughter. My husband was not a dog-lover, but wanting to make his baby girl happy, he agreed that one-day we would get a dog. But as the days passed, there was always something to prevent us from getting that dog. Mainly, the cost of having a dog and the fact that we rented our home instead of owning it. But how do you explain to a spunky little girl that it would be difficult to keep the dog fed and cared for, when we were struggling to make ends meet and keep our family fed. So we pacified her with many life-like stuffed animals. With every holiday, or every glimpse of an adorable puppy, made my daughter exclaim, “I wish I had a puppy.”

As she got older, we were able to explain to her our situation while renting a home, and how some landlords did not allow pets. She seemed to understand and accept that as a good reason. But her dad promised her, when we got our own home, we would get a dog.

As the years ticked by, and with the dawn of social media and smart phones, Evie’s love for puppies grew. Every day as I signed into my Facebook account, I was usually greeted with a picture or even a video of some adorable puppy. It was our thing. Even as a teenager, she longed for that fluffy, cuddly goodness. Just the picture of one sent her into squeals of delight…well momentarily…she was after all a teenager.

Several difficult years have passed, along with the unexpected passing of my husband. We were left with nothing. Therefore, the kids and I had to move in with my mom. Through our grief, I knew if we had a puppy, it would help with the stress and sadness, but my mom was adamant against having any type of pet in her house. We especially couldn’t afford it now.

It was difficult at first, but we were able to get through. Even in her grief, my daughter was there with me, helping with her younger brother, and concentrating on her studies. She kept her grades up all through high school, even earning scholarships to continue her education. She decided to attend a local college, at least for the first couple of years.

Now that I own my own home, I knew it was time to fulfill that promise my husband made to our daughter so long ago. I am so proud of the young woman she has become that I just want to make her happy. Even though she is a young woman now, with her own life and her future ahead of her, she still lives here at home. I witness all too often the stress that college brings. I pray that she will be just as excited about this gift, as she would have been had she gotten it years ago.

I was able to find a purebred Golden Retriever, just like she always wanted. I also purchased everything that is needed for our new pup.

When she comes home from class, she walks in the door, and drops her backpack in the hall, and begins to furiously text on her phone. “How was class honey?”

“Ugh!! Don’t ask.” She grunts, not even looking up from her phone or losing any texting momentum.

“Hey Sweetie, you got a minute?”

Her fingers stop, and she slips the phone in her back pocket, “Sure mom, what’s up?”

“Let’s go into the living room, have a seat on the couch.”

“Uh-oh, this can’t be good.”

“Oh I’m sorry honey, there’s nothing wrong, honest. I have a surprise for you. I am so proud of the hard work that you have put into your studies, and….well…just sit there, I’ll be right back.” I stutter, too excited myself, I run into the other room to get the puppy.

Before I come out, I yell down the hall, “Close your eyes honey.”

He’s a squirmy little fellow, but I hold on to him until I am standing in the doorway to the living room. I bend down, and release him out of my arms, as I tell her to open her eyes. He lops right over to her, she falls to her knees on the floor and scoops him up, as tears stream down her face.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Mom. Are you freaking kidding me? A puppy? Look at ‘em….he’s so adorable…he’s ours?” She says all through tears as she wrestles with the little golden fur ball.

“Yes, he’s yours honey.” I say trying to hold back my own tears, but not doing a very good job of it. This expression of pure joy on my daughter’s face is priceless. Not to mention the pure love emanating from this adorable, little fluff ball, as he squirms, and licks at her tears; tail wagging with abandon.

I sit down on the floor next to her, wrap my arms around her and the pup and hug them both. “Your dad promised you we’d get a dog, so I wanted to keep his promise to you. He’d be so proud of you sweetheart. I just wish he were here to see that gorgeous smile on your face. I love you honey.”

“Thanks mom, I love you too. I want to think that he is here with us, you know?”

Just then the pup runs towards the kitchen and stops before he hits the kitchen floor, and starts barking. Just as quickly as he took off, he returns to us with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out, with a smile of his own on his face.

© 2016 Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Lollipops – Week 49 – The Flavor of Truth

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🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

OK, so here’s my attempt at a Western.  I have no idea where this came from, maybe it was the pic of the cowboy and the lollipop, or maybe it’s the huge amounts of chocolate I have consumed after my daughter and I hit the 50% off Valentine’s Candy sales yesterday.  Whether it’s any good, is neither here nor there, I had fun getting out of my comfort zone.

#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:  Lollipops

Genre:  Western (that was actually difficult to type, lol)

 

The Flavor of Truth

Now that ol’ Jeb is takin’ a long rest in the bone orchard, Bart decides to pay a little visit to the missus, on the matter of the debt Jeb still owes him. Standing in her back yard, he still towers over Annabell as she stands on the steps of her back porch.

“I would say that I’m sorry about Jeb, but can’t say that I ever really liked him much. But there is the matter of the money he still owes me, so how you reckon that thar will be taken care of little missy?”

“I just need some time Mr. Ferguson, Jeb was just laid to rest two days ago, God bless his soul, please just give me some time.” Annabel hates giving this man any respect, but she forces herself to play the hopeless widow, for now.

“Why not have that boy of yours come work for me, work off his ol’ man’s debt.”

Annabell struggles to contain her fury, there is no way she would let this man get near her son, he’s hurt this family enough. Through gritted teeth, she slowly yet confidently replies, “Mr. Ferguson, I asked for some time. My son will not be consorting with the likes of you in any way. I will get you your money.”

“The likes of me, huh? Make no mistake missy, I’ll get my money one way or another.” Bart sneered. As he walked away, he passes Jeb’s faithful stallion, Atlas. Bart smooths his fingers over his mane and pats his neck, then says, “Mighty fine animal you got thar, Good day to ya.” With a tilt of his hat, he is gone.

Annabel will not let that man ruin her day, but the evil she saw in his eyes still has her legs trembling. She whispers up a prayer, and goes on to tend to her chores.

• ♦ •

The next morning her neighbor Scarlett, bringing fresh eggs for her breakfast greets her. “Good Morning Annabell, your son take Atlas out for a morning ride?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“He wasn’t in his stall when I walked by.”

“Are you sure?” Annabell doesn’t wait for an answer, but runs out the door towards the barn with Scarlett right behind her.

“He’s gone, Scarlett, he’s gone!!”

“Who would have taken him? Everyone knows what that horse means to your family.”

“Oh no….oh no.” Annabell chants quietly as she begins to tremble.

“Annabell, who did this? You know something, tell me.”

“I can’t, Scarlett, I just can’t.” She buries her head in her hands and begins to weep.

Scarlet hugs her friend, as she comforts her. Her mind reeling, who could have done such a thing? Then she realizes. Only one person could make another this frightened without even speaking their name. She knew what she had to do.

The next day, Scarlett sets out to put her plan in motion. She contacts the Sheriff to explain what has happened, and how she is going to handle it. She asks if he would be at the Saloon at high noon. She also contacts the Maloney brothers. They will have no problem jumping in if someone decides to kick up a row.

She makes a batch of her Homespun Confections just like her grandmother taught her, using fresh berries. She puts a special finishing touch on one of them, just like her mother taught her, and places that one in her pocket, the others she stores in her apron.

When she arrives at the Saloon, Bart is already there. He’s there everyday at lunchtime to bend an elbow. She offers her sweet confections to the towns’ people who have gathered for lunch. Smiling and laughing as she makes her rounds, she is sure to make eye contact with Bart as much as she can. Everyone knows that Bart can’t pass up a beautiful redhead in an immodest blouse. As she approaches his table, he says, “Hey there little lady, what you selling.” Even though he tries to smile, and make his voice sound sweet, she can’t help but notice the cold steel in his eyes.

She focuses on his eyebrows, so it looks like she is looking into his eyes, “These are my very own Homespun Confections, one taste of my lollipops, and you’ll never be the same.”

“Is that right?” Ogling her as if she were the sweet treat. “Say, aren’t you Athena’s daughter? Talk is that you all are a bunch of witches.  You tryin’ to put some kind of spell on me?”

Scarlett sits down next to him and rests her chin on her hand, and looks at him. “I would think an intelligent man like yourself would scoff at the notions of mere towns people.” She makes a show of pulling out the lollipop, and begins to wave it in front of him. “Besides, that’s my momma, and she’d rather you refer to her as an enchanter. As for me, I just like to make sweet treats for people to enjoy.” She hands him the lollipop. He opens it and begins to taste it. “Mmmm this is good, do I taste boysenberry, and blueberry?”

She nods her head with a smile, as she waits for the affects to kick in. She makes eye contact with the Sheriff, to signal him to get into place.

“You sure are a pretty little thing, I hope you didn’t take offense to the witch comment. It’s just that it was mighty convenient that all your husbands just happen to come up missin’.” Bart drawls on.

“Well, you know, sometimes things just come up missing.” Scarlett says with a shrug.

“You’re right about that.” Bart says with a laugh, as he looks down at the lollipop, and takes another lick.

“Sounds to me like you have some secrets cowboy.” She looks from side to side, then leans in closer to him and says quietly, “I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.” She knows that the berries have done their job, so she comes right out and asks, “What do you know about Annabell’s horse?”

Without hesitation he says, “Yup, that was me. I took her horse and sold it to a fella passing through town, got more than enough money to cover her good-for-nothin’ husband’s debt.” With a satisfied smirk, he pops the candy back into his mouth and crosses his arms across his chest.

A voice from behind him bellows, “The jig is up. Bart Ferguson, you’re under arrest.” The Sheriff grabs his wrists, as the Maloney brothers grab his arms and lift him out his chair.

Bart spits out the lollipop right at Scarlett, and seethes, “You. Little. Vixen.”

“Truth has rough flavors if we bite it through.” With that, Scarlett sticks a lollipop in her mouth, and savors the taste with a satisfied smile, as she waves to a defiant Bart being carted away.

© 2016 Carrie Ann

“Truth has rough flavors if we bite it through.” by George Eliot

 

#BlogBattle: Chasm – Week 48 – The Next Step

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🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

I haven’t joined in for a couple of weeks again, oh how I’ve missed writing, nonetheless, excited to be back at it!!

#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:  Chasm

Genre:  Romance

The Next Step

Even though it is her day off, Nita goes in early to her Hair Salon. Her younger sister Kaycee is in town, and will be in later. Whenever Kaycee is in town, Nita schedules her for a color, cut, style, manicure and a facial. Kaycee gets some pampering, and Nita savors the time spent with her sister.

She walks in and is greeted by her business partner, Michael, “Morning Honey Bun, I didn’t expect to see you here this early. What time is Kaycee coming in?”

“Hey Michael. She’ll be in once she rolls out of bed, probably around 10 or 10:30. I thought I’d come in and catch up on some paperwork.”

“I left the inventory sheets on your desk. I see she still lives the charmed life, is she still seeing the same guy?”

Nita says with a sigh, “Yes…Only my sister would find a guy who seems to have walked off the page of a romance novel.

Michael holds up the palms of his hands and shakes his head with a look that asks, what does that mean?

“You know, over six feet tall, rich, unspeakably handsome, with six-pack abs. Well…I can’t verify the six-pack abs, but you know what I mean.”

“No, Sweetpea, actually I don’t. I don’t read romance novels, and I haven’t seen the guy.” Just then a timer rings, and Michael is out the door to tend to his client.

Once Nita is done with her paperwork, Kaycee comes in around 10, with her Grande Mocha Latte. Michael greets her by wrapping her in a big hug, “Hello Gorgeous, is that man of yours spoiling you rotten?”

“He certainly is Michael,” as she welcomes the hug. She steps back, with a gleam in her eye and a playful laugh she adds, “But I’m sooo worth it.”

Michael squeezes her shoulders and says, “You certainly are, Beautiful, and never forget it. You look fabulous!!”

Nita has all the supplies ready when Kaycee sits down in her chair. Not only does Kaycee get highlights in her naturally blonde hair, but she also adds some lowlights. It’s a process, yet there will be no break in their conversation once they get started.

Kaycee sits down, and takes a sip of her Starbucks, with concern in her voice she says, “I had that same dream again last night.”

Michael walks up just as she says it, and asks, “What dream?”

Kaycee lets out a breath and explains, “I’ve had this dream several times now. It’s a bright sunny day and I’m walking through this big grassy field, and just as I’m about to walk forward, a big chasm opens up in the ground. Then this wooden bridge appears over it, like I can safely walk across it, but the bridge disappears into the clouds and I can’t see what’s on the other side.”

With a hand raised Michael questions, “A chasm? Don’t you sound all smarticle.”

With wide eyes Kaycee exclaims, “I know right!!” With a shrug she confesses, “I have a word of the day app…it was my word yesterday.”

“Ah…gotcha.” Michael nods and points a finger at her. “So what does this dream mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“Sit tight Chica, I can help. Well…my friend Jasmine can help, she has this uncanny ability to interpret dreams…she’s pretty much always right. Oh, and when’s your birthday? She’ll ask me that for some reason.”

“March 16th.”

“Got it, let me give her a call.”

Nita continues working, but assures Kaycee, “I forgot about Jasmine, Michael has told me how she can interpret dreams.”

Michael comes back and as he sets up his workstation for his next client, he reports, “OK. So. Jasmine says that it’s the fear of taking the next step in your life. She asked if you were in a relationship, and said that your boyfriend probably wants to take the relationship to the next level.”

Kaycee raises her hand to her mouth, and with her eyes as wide as saucers she says, “OMG that’s amazing!! That’s it!! Julian has been making more comments about us living together, and then the other night we even talked about marriage, just in a general sense, like ‘at what age do you see yourself getting married’ kind of stuff.”

Excited, yet a little concerned, Nita asks, “So what did you tell him? Does he know about your past, and about Kevin?”

Kaycee replies. “Yes, I told him all about Kevin. Like I said, it wasn’t like a deep conversation. But for me, I’ve really been thinking about it lately. That’s probably the reason for the dream.”

“So do you see a future with Julian? Are you ready for that yet?” Nita inquires without interrogating.

“Actually, Nita, I think I am. It seems the more time I spend with him, the less doubts I have.”

As if on cue, Kaycee’s phone chirps with an incoming text message. “It’s a text from Julian.” Her smile could not get any brighter.

“Of course it is.” Nita mumbles good-naturedly.

“Ohhh….look.” Kaycee mewls as she holds up her phone for Nita to see.

Hope you are having fun. It doesn’t
matter what your sister does to your
hair, you’ll always be beautiful to me.
Miss you.

“Let’s cut your hair off and dye it green, and see what he says then!!” Nita jokes.

“Not funny!!”

As Nita puts the finishing touches on Kaycee’s hair, she says, “Kaycee, you are a beautiful woman, but you’re also smart, confident, funny, and you have a big heart. You deserve to be loved by someone who loves you for all those things, and I believe Julian does, he’s a great guy.”

Kaycee jumps out of the chair, and wraps Nita in a big hug, “Thanks Nita, I love you.”

“Love you too.” As Nita steps back, she takes her sister by the shoulders and turns her to face the mirror, “But for the record, now that I’m done with you, you’re breathtakingly beautiful.”

 
🙂 997 words!!

 

©2016 Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Worm – Week 44 – To Catch a Fish

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🙂 Tuesday = #Blogbattle

I haven’t joined in for a couple of weeks, but excited to be back at it!!

#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:  Worm

Genre:  Non-Fiction

fishing bobber

To Catch a Fish

This is a story about a little girl, a little girl who just wanted to catch a fish. This is my story, that little girl was me.

Growing up in a small town that rests on the edge of Lake Michigan, along with several other smaller lakes within its borders, one was sure to find the perfect fishing spot. My dad was an avid fisherman, and taught us all how to fish. My childhood memories are ones of warm evenings spent with my whole family, fishing at the channel, which at one time connected the smaller Wolf Lake to Lake Michigan.

I’m not sure if my sister and mom actually fished when we went, but they were there nonetheless, probably reading a book or a magazine. Being the youngest after my two brothers, I was a bit of a tomboy growing up, getting caught up playing the things that they enjoyed. So when it came time to fish with my dad and brothers, I was all in. Well, as in as I could be at the age of six. I watched in awe as my brothers cast out their lines with those fancy rods and reels of theirs. It was a true art form, and took practice, with just the right movements to send that bobber out into the lake at the perfect spot. It was all in the timing, as you pulled back, pressed the button to release the line with a flick of the wrist, as you heard the whizzing sound of the line as it would sail through the air. You knew it was a perfect cast, when you heard the ever so slight plop of the bobber as it breached the surface of the glass-like lake, with only a few ripples; your worm on its hook settling in the murky water to wait. Then there was my experience, with my cane pole, and red and white bobber. No skill really needed, I just flung it out into the drink and hoped for the best. My dad always taught us about safety, showing me the hook, and how sharp and pointy it was, and that you needed to be careful as you cast your line out, so that the hook wouldn’t snag you in the back of the head. Even though I was a tomboy, I was still a little girl, and putting a worm on a hook, was not for me. That was my dad’s job, and I was fine with that, and it was key in this little charade he called fishing.

So there I sat, with my cane pole and my red and white bobber just sitting there. We didn’t talk much, if we did it was quiet conversation, as to “not wake the fish.” Even when one of us got a hit, we didn’t get overly excited. It was a simple, “I got one.” As we manned our poles, yet watched the dance between the fish and the fisherman as it was brought to shore. Sure enough as I heard the ‘got one’ on my left, there was two more on my right. Holding on to my trusty pole, just knowing I had to be next, needing to be ready, yet I couldn’t help but turn my attention to my brothers reeling in their catch. Once the excitement wore off, we sat. Then sat some more…waiting. As the sun set and the breeze began to cool, you could hear the gentle lapping of the lake on the shore, and a small voice innocently question, “Hey Dad…why haven’t I caught a fish yet.” Which was always answered with some wise fish tale, that only a six-year old could believe.

Then there was the one evening, as I was growing bored with the whole not catching a fish thing, I started looking through my dad’s tackle box. I found a round tin, with the letters SKOAL on it, not sure what it was, I was bent on finding out. It was a struggle for my small hands, but I figured out that I had to push the top and bottom together real hard and twist to open it. With my fierce determination, I got it opened and the contents of the tin burst out and covered my entire chest. As I looked down, I was coated in what looked like saw dust, and little, tiny, squirmy, white…WORMS!! I’m not sure if anyone else heard the scream like I did in my head. Maybe I actually held it in, as to not wake the fish, but I was totally freaking out. Just as quickly as it happened, it was over as my dad rushed over, brushed everything off of me and saved me from the Bee Moths or saved the Bee Moths from me. With those wormy-like things back in their little home, I went back to my cane pole, and sat…waiting…and sat some more. So much better then being mauled by Bee Moth Larvae, or was it? Unbeknownst to me, there was never a worm on my hook…wait…was there even a hook?

Then one day it happened. My dad, knowing he couldn’t keep up this ruse forever, decided that just him and I would go fishing, early one morning. We got out to the channel just as the sun was rising over the horizon. My dad grabbed two rods and reels from the trunk, and his tackle box. With my eyes wide, I realized the cane pole stayed behind. Is it possible? I got a quick lesson on how to cast out. My first few tries landed my bobber with a ker-plunk in the water not 3 feet from where I was standing. Try again. With my dad’s help, I was able to cast out. Proudly holding on to my precious rod and reel, I sat, waiting…this time with a smile on my face. It’s going to happen today!! Sure enough, I felt that little tug, and then “Dad…I got one!” We both stood, and he coached me as the fish tried to run with the bait in his mouth, “Let him go for a little bit, then reel him in.” I did that a few times, excitement pounding in my ears, mixed in with the whirling sound of the reel as I brought my catch to shore. My dad grabbed the line, and pulled it out of the water. There on the end, frantically flipping, was my first catch, a nice little Perch. I finally did it!!

© Carrie Ann (dated 1974)

OK…so I totally exercised my artistic license on that last paragraph. I really don’t remember actually fishing that day, but I do remember taking this picture, and I’m sure I actually caught this particular fish. I am smiling so broadly not because I was proud of my catch, but those things are slippery little suckers, and it was hard to hold on to.

As we got older, my brothers moved on, and lost interest in fishing. I totally lost interest, and set my sights on gaining some fashion sense, thank God. (Either my dad dressed me that morning, or these were hopefully my ‘fishin’ clothes.’) My dad went on to bigger and better fishing opportunities. Fishing with his buddies on their boats, or going out alone and fishing off the shore of Lake Michigan, which earned him the Indiana State Record in 1983 by catching the largest Brown Trout weighing in at 22 lbs. 8 oz.  A title he held on to for several years.

Today, you probably couldn’t pay me to go fishing. I’ve put my time in, thank you very much. But I’m grateful for the time spent with my family and the memories I have. However, just like any good fish story, the details are subject to over-exaggeration with each telling.

© Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Flake – Week 41 – Just One Snowflake

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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:  Flake

Genre:  Romance

I am becoming as predictable as the Hallmark Channel Romances…will have to work on that in the new year. (I don’t like predictable 😐 ) With the word being flake and the time of year it is, my story had to be about snow, lol.  Maybe it’s just my longing for a white Christmas…nonetheless here’s my story 🙂

Just One Snowflake

Madison thought she could get away with answering emails using her phone until her wifi was hooked up in her new house, but no such luck.  She only had a couple more boxes to unpack, when her phone chirps.  She skims through the long email, then groans as she realizes she would need her laptop to reply.  She wasn’t planning a trip to the library, but it looks like that is where she is headed.  Oh well, she could use a break from the unpacking, it shouldn’t take her too long, plus she could stop at the grocery store for some food before the early winter storm hit.  The weatherman was estimating it to begin well after midnight.

With her laptop in tow, she steps into the library, and is flooded with a deluge of memories from her childhood.  How many hours did spend in this place?  The familiar look and feel of it brought a smile to her face, as a sense of comfort enveloped her like a favorite sweater.  The only difference to the old building were the upgrades that were seamlessly integrated into the original architecture.

She focused on getting her work done as quickly as possible.  When she finishes she packs up her things, thinking about a few items she needs to add to her list for the grocery store.  When she steps out the door, she cannot believe her eyes.  There is at least 4 inches of snow already on the ground.  How long had she been in there?  She checks the time on her phone and realizes a good hour and a half had passed.  She slips her phone back into her pocket and retrieves her gloves, so grateful that she had stuffed them in her pockets earlier.  Not that she was all prepared or anything, it was just that she had been freezing since she got here, obviously her body had not adjusted to the colder weather.  She trudges over to her snow-covered car, yeah, so not prepared, she would have to clean it off just by using her hands.  She stashes her computer bag and purse in the back seat, and begins clearing off her windows, she just wishes her gloves weren’t getting soaked so quickly, her fingers begin to get cold.  Just then from behind her she hears a deep male voice say, “May I help?”

As she turns towards the voice, her eyes are stopped by a broad chest, bundled in black wool, her eyes skim up past the gray cashmere scarf and land on a set of chocolate brown eyes that make her pulse stop.  Her mind screams, Oh, heck yeah!!  But when she can get her brain and mouth to work together, she stammers, “Uh….yes, thank you.”

With a gorgeous smile accented with a dimple, of course, he hands her one of the two snow brushes he held in his leather-clad hands,  “This won’t take long if we work together.  You must not be from around here.”  She interprets the comment as a friendly jab to her unpreparedness.

“Not recently, but I grew up here, and forgot how quickly these storms can move in.  Besides, the weatherman said this wouldn’t hit until after midnight.”  She replies in her defense.

“You know they are right like…only 25% of the time?” he says with a quiet laugh.

“Very funny.  Well when I left there wasn’t a flake or a flurry in the sky.  Plus…it’s November.”  She shrugs and says, “No big deal.”  She stretches her arms out and looks up to the sky, letting the fluffy flakes pepper her face, she exclaims, “Oh, I’ve missed this.  Look how beautiful it is!!”

“Yes, yes it is.”  He replies not taking his eyes off of her.

As they finish up, she says, “Thanks so much for your help,” handing him the snow brush.  “I really appreciate it, let me buy you some coffee or hot chocolate, unless you have someplace to be.”  She looks at him, thinking something about him seems familiar.

“You’re very welcome, actually a cup of coffee sounds great, thank you.”  He takes the snow brush from her.

“Since my car is cleaned off, I’ll drive, hop in.”  She starts the car and they settle in.  “By the way, I’m Madison Landers.”

“Nice to meet you, Madison, I’m Noah Ross.”  They both say his last name at the same time, Madison’s eyes widen with revelation.  “I thought you looked familiar.  Your sister and I were best friends when we were in high school.  I only met you a couple of times, then you left for college.”

He searched her face and then he remembered, “Maddie.”

“Yep, you remembered.” She says with a laugh.

“How could I not?  You and Natalie were inseparable.  Do you still keep in touch?”

Madison nods her head, “I actually talked to her not too long ago, told her I was heading back home.  We made plans to get together at Christmas when she’s home.”

Noah and Madison continue to talk and catch up.  Coffee turns into dinner, and dinner turns into spending their free time together, and talking daily.

On Christmas Eve they decide to have a nice quiet dinner at Madison’s.  As she gets ready, she reflects on the things that have taken place over the past month.  Funny how she was reluctant to come back home, she never thought about relocating, she enjoyed her life in Arizona.  But when the opportunity came up to go back to her hometown, something about it felt right.  Now she knows why.  Meeting Noah was so unexpected, but definitely a welcomed surprise.

There’s a knock at the door.  Madison opens the door to a blast of cold air and swirling snow crystals.  Noah steps in and hands her a bottle of wine, as he brushes himself off and removes his coat.  She takes the wine to the kitchen.  Noah walks in holding a small box in his hand.  “Before we eat dinner, I want you to open this.”  He says as the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile.

Madison opens it and finds a delicate silver snowflake necklace, laced with diamonds resting on light blue velvet.  “Oh, Noah, it’s beautiful!!  Thank you.”

“When I saw it, I just had to get it for you, since you love snow.  Also, to remind you that it takes just one snowflake to create a snow storm, and that is what brought us together.”

She took it out of the box and handed it to him, “Help me put it on.”  She moved her hair to the side as he fastened the clasp.  When she turned around for him to see she asked, “How does it look.”

“Beautiful, just like you.  Merry Christmas Maddie.”  He pulls her close, then brushes a tender kiss on her lips, one that is full of love and promise…for always.

© 2015 Carrie Ann