TUESDAY TALES - MACHINE

 Howdy do and welcome! This week we're writing our stories to the word prompt "machine." I have more of my story that didn't have a name, but now does. It's titled, "Someone Like You." When you'r'e done, bop on over to read the other authors' stories. You'll find them HERE. 

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Charlie stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a terry robe. The house was chilly. She turned up the heat.

“It’s freezing in here,” she said.

“Don’t be wasting heat,” Tom said, washing dishes.

“I contribute to this house and I’m not going to be freezing my backside off because you’re cheap,” she said. She cranked the machine up another two degrees just for spite.

Tom continued on in silence. She knew he was pissed. Charlie went to her room and shut the door. She’d been living here too long. Desire for her own place grew every year she stayed. Her phone rang.

“Hi, Corey. What’s up.”

“My miracle worker bride pulled it off.”

“Pulled what off?” Charlie asked.

“She got Professor Garrett to agree to chaperone.”

Silence. Charlie plopped down, cross-legged on her bed.

“You there?” Corey asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just surprised.”

Corey laughed. “Now you gotta go.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Aw, come on! You’re gonna get me in trouble. And poor Mark Garrett is going to be disappointed because the coolest girl isn’t going to be there.”

“Good try, Corey,” she said, supressing a laugh.

“Come on, Charlotte. Don’t you want a chance to meet him when you’re looking like a girl?”

She bit her lip. With his usual perception, Corey had hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what she wanted, what she’d prayed for. Now that it was possible, could she handle it?

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she said, embarrassed at how lame it sounded.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Kitty will take you shopping. I’ll give you the money! It’s time you stopped hiding behind Charlie,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go.”  She chewed her lip.

“You won’t regret it.”

“Thanks, Corey,” she said.

“Goodnight,” he said and was off.

Why couldn’t more men be like Corey? Would she find out what Mark Garrett was really like? And would she regret it? She slipped a flannel nightgown over her head and crawled into bed. The book she’d been reading, House of Mirth by Edith Wharton didn’t capture her interest. She put the book down and doused the light.

Lying in the dark, Charlotte let dreams of love, independence, and sex breeze through her mind. If she was going to put Charlotte on display, she’d better be ready. As she lay sleepless in the chilly room, she pulled up the comforter to her chin.

That's all. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "STUNNING

 

Welcome! This week we have more conversation between Mac and Callie int he story with no name. They were among my first heroes and heroines. I still love them and their banter comes back to me just like it was long ago when they first came into my life. I hope you enjoy this snippet and you go on to read the rest of the stories by my esteemed colleagues. Find their stories HERE. 

     

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Mac turned to his wife. “So who is this chick you’re foisting off on poor, unsuspecting Professor Garrett?”

“You know her.”

“I do?” Mac raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. It’s Charlie, the painter.”

“Who?”

“Charlie,” Callie repeated, patiently.

“That woman in man’s clothing?”

“Mac, please keep an open mind. She dresses that way because she spends her day fixing plaster, painting walls, doing dirty, physical work.”

“A man’s work.”

“Your prejudice is showing.”  Callie pushed to her feet.

“Honestly, Callie. I’m just telling it as I see it. She’s a mess.”

“Sure, when she’s working. But I’m betting that under that paint smudged face and ungainly hat is a stunning young woman.”

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“I can’t.” she strolled into the kitchen.

“So you’re taking a risk? Rolling the dice, gambling on Mark Garrett’s goodwill?” He followed her.

“You could put it that way. But if I’m right, he’ll be the big winner,” Callie said, opening the fridge.

“And so will she. He’s a pretty hot guy, I’m guessing.”

“Yes. And, yes, she will be. It’s a win/win, if I’m right.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Mac asked, cocking one eyebrow.

“Let’s not go there,” Callie said, pulling a frown. “Hmm. Left over lasagne or pizza?”

“I had the pizza for lunch,” Mac said.

“Then lasagne it is. Will you make a salad?” She asked. Pulling a large glass pan from the fridge shelf and placing it on the counter.

“Sure.” Mac stepped up to the fridge and opened the crisper drawer.

“Just think of the outcome, if I’m right,” she said.

“Should I brush off my tuxedo?” He grinned.

“That might be a bit premature,” she laughed.

“I never doubt your nose for these things. You have a 100 percent win record as a matchmaker.”

“Fingers crossed that holds this time, too,” she said, her voice hopeful. 

Mac placed lettuce and other salad fixings on the kitchen table, then joined his wife at the stove. “It’s a slam dunk, with you pulling the strings, baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss his wife.

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That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

Tuesday Tales - Word prompt "Write"

 

Welcome! This week we're writing to the word prompt "write" - how appropriate! This week we have a throwback, flash from the past - Mac and Callie from one of my very first series. We get an interaction between then and their 25-year-old daughter. I loved writing this. I love Mac and Callie and it's a joy to have them resurrected! We're back at the president's residence on the campus of Kensington State University. Don't forget to read all the stories. Find them HERE. 

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"Cocktail?" Mac asked. 

Callie checked her watch. "Yes." 

Mac cocked an eyebrow. 

"Surprise me," Callie responded. 

After two children and twenty-six years of marriage, Callie and Mac had their own language. Mac mixed two gin and tonics. 

"It's warm today," he said, handing her the drink. 

She took a sip. "Delicious. Refreshing." 

He smiled and took a seat on the sofa. Callie sat nexto to him and snuggled up. Mac draped a long arm around her and pulled her close. Their daughter, Kitty, stood in the doorway. 

"Oh, God. Do you guys still have to do that?" 

"What?" Callie asked, raising her eyebrows in fake innocence. 

"You know what, Mom." 

"I like your father. This drink is cold and he's warming me up. He's a regular heat machine."

"Please! Don't go there! So...did you get it done?" Kitty raised her eyebrows. 

"Was there ever any doubt?" Mac asked with a grin. 

"Really?" 

"Your mother could talk a man dying of thirst in the desert out of his canteen," he said, not without a certain pride.

"Oh, Mac, You exaggerate!" Callie said, laughing. 

"You did, Mom?" Kitty's voice held hope. 

"I did. It was easy. Does Charlie really like him that much?" Callie asked. 

"I'm not supposed to say, but, yes, she does. I don't see the connection, but..." Kitty shrugged her shoulders. 

"We don't get to write the script for someone else's life. They do seem to be the odd couple," Callie said. 

"They said that about us, too. Don't you remember?" Mac asked. 

Callie smiled. "Oh, yes, I remember." She leaned over to peck Mac on the cheek. "And they were wrong. After all this time your father still rings my chimes," Callie cooed. 

"Oh, gross! I'm going. Thank you, Mom," Kitty said,  rushing out of the room to the tinkle of laughter from her parents.  

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That's all this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BEAT"

 

Welcome to another week of Tuesday Tales! This week we're writing to the word prompt "beat". I have another excerpt from my story with no name. I hope you enjoy it. Don't forget to visit the other authors. Find them HERE. Thanks for stopping by.

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Frustrated, Kitty did what she always did when confronted with a problem she couldn’t solve, she called on her mother. Callie Caldwell had been the go=to person in the family for problem solving ever since Kitty could remember. She picked up the phone.

“Mom? II need your help,” Kitty said, chewing her lip.

“You know how to capture my interest, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

Then she explained about Professor Mark Garrett refusing to chaperone the dance and Corey adamant about making his sister’s dreams come true.

“Oh, my. Foster romance? Right up my alley. Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”

“Thanks, Mom. Can I tell Corey it’s done?”

“Not yet. Tell him I’m working on it.”

Callie put up another pot of coffee. She carried a cup into her husband’s office. Mac Caldwell had risen from dean to university president, but he was the same old Mac to his wife.

“Mac, how well do you know Dr. Mark Garrett?” she asked, handing him the beverage then sitting down beside him on the sofa.

“As well as I know any of the professors, I guess. Why?”

“Is he a competitive guy?”

“What guy isn’t?” Mac cracked a smile.

 When they finished their coffee, Callie wandered over to the English department. Charlie was still working on Corey’s office. Callie waved briefly, then headed for Dr. Garrett’s office.

“Hi, Mark,” she said, breezing in.

“Hi, Callie. How are you?”

“I’m good. I just heard something, and I wondered if you’d heard it, too.”

“What’s that?” he asked, rising from behind his desk.

“Well, I heard that a really hot young woman, a family friend of Mac’s, is coming to the dance. Buzz McBride, is bragging he’s going to take her home.”

“Really?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “That Neanderthal?”

“Football coach is pretty hot. He volunteered to chaperone.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. So if you want to relinquish the job…”

“No, no. Kitty asked me and I thought I might have a schedule conflict. As it turns out, I don’t.”

“Great! You’ll chaperone?”

“Sure. Why not?”

"Thanks."

Callie ambled across campus and back to the president's residence. 

"Well? How'd it go?" Mac asked. 

"I love it when I can beat a man at his own game." 

That's all for now. Don't forget to leave a comment. See you next week!

Tuesday Tales - Word prompt "Harsh"

 

Welcome! This week, we are writing to the word prompt "harsh". I have another excerpt from my new story, which still doesn't have a name. It's a continuation from last week. Don't forget to read all the stories in Tuesday Tales. Find them HERE. 

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Charlie turned the car on and headed back to campus.

“You’re taking me back to school? Weren’t you heading home?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Very nice of you, Sis. Thanks,” Corey said.

When they arrived at the small apartment building for professors, he got out.

“Don’t forget about the dance,” he said.

“Yeah. Sure,” Charlie said and waved as she pulled away.

Corey put his garment in his closet and rushed out of the building. He went to the faculty lounge where his fiancée, Kitty Caldwell, would be. She was getting her Master’s in English and, as the daughter of the president, she was granted faculty lounge privileges. She’d spend the morning reading and studying in a comfortable leather wing chair in the corner of the large, book-lined study.

The room was a silent room – no talking. Corey burst in, hurried across the room, and grabbed Kitty by the hand.

“I have to talk to you,” he whispered.

“Shhh,” came from a chair across the room.

Kitty followed him into the corridor. “What is it? What’s so urgent?”

“I promised Charlie Professor Garrett would be chaperoning the dance.”

“You what? I told you he’d already turned me down.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“So you lied?”

“I guess. It’s just that she’s so lonely. So is he. They’d be a great couple.”

Kitty cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re so sure they’re going to fall madly in love with each other at the dance?”

“No, no, of course not. But, he’d get a chance to see her looking like a girl,  for a change, instead of a guy.”

“That's a bit harsh,” Kitty said, shifting her weight. “I’ll see what I can do. But you shouldn’t have promised.”

He kissed her. “I know I shouldn’t have. But Charlie needs a break. Thanks. You’re the best,” he said, then hurried out the door as he was running late to his next class.

 "Wait! I didn't say I could!" Kitty called after him. 

 

 That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "RIDE"

 

Welcome! It's time for Tuesday Tales again. This week we have more of my Kensington State University story with no name. Don't forget to read the stories by our wonderful group of writers. Find them HERE. 

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Charlie put down the roller, stood back and surveyed the walls. They were pristine. And her paint job? Perfect, as usual. After she finished, the bigger job began – cleanup. She scrubbed her hands in the ladies room, put her tools in a satchel and ambled down the hall on her way home.

A poster in bright pink and green drew her  eye. It read:

 

                 The Spring Dance is Coming

                 Saturday, April 5, 8pm

                 The Gym

                Admission: $10.

 

Charlie made a face and said to herself, “Hah! Just saved ten bucks.” When she got outside, the honking of a car got her attention. Corey, her brother, sat in the passenger seat of her car.

“I need a ride to town. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Where to?”

“Cleaners. Gotta pick up my sports jacket,” he said.

She put the car in gear. “What do you need your sports jacket for?”

“The dance. You going?”

“Me?” she gave a derisive laugh. “No. Of course not.”

“Really? That’s too bad. I heard Professor Garrett’s going to be there,” he said, glancing out the window.

Charlie screeched on the brakes.

“What the Hell? What are you doing?”

A driver leaning on his horn sped by, giving her the finger.

“Sorry. I didn’t see that car.”

“I guess not.” Sweat beaded on Corey's forehead. 

“Are you sure Professor Garrett is going?”

“Kitty asked him to chaperone,” Corey lied.

“And he agreed? He seems to shy to want to do that.”

“Well, all the professors are required to do that kinda stuff. That’s what Kitty said.”

They drove on in silence for a half mile.

“Change your mind about the dance?” her brother asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she replied, pulling up to the curb.

That's all until next week. Thanks for stopping by. 

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "sharp"

 

   Welcome! This week we are writing to the word prompt "sharp". I have more of my new story without a name. Hop on over and read the other stories by our wonderful writers. Find them HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Charlotte parked in the faculty parking lot and hauled her paint cans, brushes, rollers, blue tape, and dropcloth into her brother’s new office. Once she had everything moved away from the wall, and covered with the dropcloth, she walked down to the janitor’s closet. There she found the step ladder she needed.

She taped the top of the walls, then painted the ceiling. When she finished, she stopped to take a bathroom break. One look in the mirror corroborated her surmised that her face was probably covered with tiny splotches of paint. Fortunately the cap covered her hair completely. Getting white paint out of dark auburn hair would be a giant pain.

She wiped her face off and returned to the room. As she finished taping off the walls, she heard voices in the hall. She peeked around the corner. It was her brother and Professor Mark Garrett! And they were right outside the door.

“Oh, Mr. Anderson, I found this book in your old office. Poetry for your girlfriend? Those are favorite poets of mine, too.”

“Girlfriend? Let’s see,” there was silence for a moment, then Corey’s voice continued with a laugh. “No, that’s not my girlfriend. That’s my sister, Charlotte.”

“Oh, really? You have a sister?”

“Yes.”

“Does she go to school here?” the professor asked.

At this point Charlie silently snuck outside and stood behind  the professor’s back. She drew Corey’s attention and made a sharp motion across her neck with her finger. Corey smiled at her. She glared back and made the motion again, then scooted back into the room and hid behind her roller.

“No, no. She doesn’t,” Corey said. “Say, look I’m going to be late. I have a session with HR. Good to see you, Professor Garrett,” Corey said.

The voices stopped. Charlie leaned back against the unpainted wall and sighed.

“Close call,” she said.  

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by.