Married by Mistake Chapte 49. The Good-Bye Girl

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Chapter 49. The Good-Bye Girl

Fourteen days at home flew past with a blur.

Kaylee in the meantime recharged, recovered from her shock at Glenn’s immature life choice, was packing for the return to Ocean Bay University.

Her dad made her laugh. She had sat with him on a home-made bean bag chair while she smoked a pipe for the first time with the man she always thought was without a clue about life for the young generation.

The old man had more on the ball than Kaylee ever gave him credit for. She always thought of him as an IT nerd-tech that was only involved with himself.

Instead, dad liked Steampunk music, knew a thousand things she never thought possible of his generation.

Funny, it seemed the older she got, the smarter he was. In fact she viewed her father, Charles Achilles “CAG” Grant, as brilliant, funny, talented and wise.

She didn’t tell him about Tom, however. She started a dozen times and Dad shushed her each time.

‟Your past is in your behind.” He said softly.

‟What?” Kaylee looked up at the man who was the standard she held all other men to. ‟Dad? What?”

‟Sorry, that’s good weed.” He gave a crooked smile. ‟Put your behind in your past, you don’t need to talk about it just now.”

‟You mean that I should put what on my butt?”

‟No.” Dad was trying for a serious moment but giggled. ‟What is done is history. Leave it there for now.”

‟Okay.” Kaylee smiled and took another hit off the pipe. Her parents always dealt with Anders Schroder with his home-grown. It was the best weed in the area.

Mr. Schroder grew enough of the best cannabis to sell to the retail outlets, but little more than that. Fully licensed and inspected, Mr. Schroder kept the businesses going with only enough income to keep his bills paid. The old man just liked the beauty of the plant and wished to make clothes out of the hemp fiber he grew from other species. Often telling Glenn and Kaylee that it was better than cotton.

The weed relaxed her and made the heartache of Glenn seem so much smaller than it was.

*At least I’m not pregnant! Pretty sure.* She laughed to herself.

She began to think of that last time on the plane after she came home.

Tom was weak from spending so much time in the hospital bed, she had grown protective of the soul that thought he was her protector. He cautioned her heart to avoid what Tom said in gentle words, ‟Complicate things”.

Another few days home.

An argument over who’s toe-sock was left out on the porch with her brother ended with mom telling them to go put on their socks.

Kaylee came out wearing hers and Mike, with one bare foot and looking sheepish.

While the kid-brother learned to do his own laundry, at dad’s insistence to prepare him for college. Another requirement of the patriarch of the family.

Dad did not care what each of the children wanted to do, but he did require that they earned the highest degree of education available for that interest.

A strong preference for a doctorate, and no one dared defy dad on this point.

Kaylee worried a lot about trying to earn a doctorate in fine arts, a tall order. But dad was motivational and insistent.

That afternoon, while she packed to return to Ocean Bay U., Glenn pulled up in his car.

Alone.

He walked up to the door, intercepted by Kaylee .

‟Don’t you have a life to attend to? Does Sam know you are here?”

‟Yes, she knows. Our mom’s were talking and she found out you were leaving today, she sent me with this.” Glenn held out a small gift, a compass with an email address taped to it.

“Sam wants to pursue a friendship with you.” Glenn’s voice was almost a whisper.

Kaylee was still unsure, her heart still ached after that day. She had found a kindred spirit in Samantha Schroder, but still envious at the same time.

She took the offered present with a smile that she did not feel in her heart.

‟I know I hurt you, if I say it was an accident, it would be an insult to everyone. But it was not planned, I wanted to stay with you.”

‟Do not tell me that, do not let Sam hear you say that.” Kaylee on the verge of rage shook her finger in his face. ‟You want to work as a member of congress élite and a senator’s aide? You put on a face of a happy husband and proud father. You did this with her without thought or precaution, now you have a child. You had better love that baby, or I swear I will kick you so hard you it will take a year for your breastbone to heal. And you know I can. If you ever break up with Sam, I will use you for my flow-drills. You don’t get a stick, you just have to stand there and take it.”

‟Then I’ll send my dad after you, he’s pissed at you as well.” She added.

‟I can see that. He’s standing in the window, looking at me.” Glenn voice trembled with more than a little fear.

Charles Grant stood in the picture window with his arms crossed, a stare like a cougar lining up for a kill for a full minute then stepped out of sight.

For a single moment of shining terror, Glenn thought the old man was coming out.

‟I’ll keep in touch.” He told Kaylee. ‟Maybe we can get together then.”

‟No.” She shook her head. ‟We have our own lives, lived our own way and our own adventures. Good-bye Glenn. I’m sorry this is how it ended.”

She hugged him awkwardly and walked back to the house and closed the door quietly behind her.

And leaned up against it and caught her breath. It was the single hardest thing she had ever done in her life.

And she was still standing strong.

‟Everything all to rights, sweetheart?” The measured tones of her dad entered her world, the old man was sitting in his chair. Two glasses and a bottle of his favorite fifty-year-old rum sitting on the end-table.

‟Oh. Daddy…”

She sat in his lap for the first time in over a decade, the twenty-something woman left the room while the broken-hearted child wept on her father’s shoulder.

Pouring a splash of rum in each glass, he handed one to his sniffling princess.

‟A toast to accidents. Without them, we’d never know where we are in life and where our strength lies. Some are happy, some are sad, a toast to them all.”

‟A happy accident?” Kaylee said after she took a sip of the spiced amber liquid and coughed. The ethanol burning her throat.

‟Yes, if it was not for an accident, I’d never have met your mom.” Her dad said with a wink.

‟She said she met you standing in line at a store.”

‟Pharmacy, for pain medication.”

‟Same thing.” She sipped more of her dad’s treasured rum.

‟Who do you think gave me the pain.”

‟What?”

‟She worked as a bookkeeper at an office and I was running cable for a network. Wireless networking was unheard of in those days. While I crawled by a desk, she opened a drawer over my head.” He rubbed his head of the memory of it. ‟I broke the drawer when I stood up, scalded myself when a coffee cup on the desk spilled down my back.”

Kaylee broke out laughing.

‟Oh my god. She never told me that.”

‟And I wished he never did either!” Mom hid her face in her hand, she had walked in from the back of the house. ‟I nearly killed your dad with a concussion and wrecked our new computer system at the same time.”

‟The coffee went into the server.” Her dad added. ‟It was awful, blood and coffee everywhere.”

‟It looked like someone got slaughtered by a coffee machine.” Mom admitted.

‟I was talking about my shirt.”

‟I was, too.” Linda laughed.

Parents and offspring talked for over an hour, mom and dad told secrets on each other from the time before children while they shared the bottle of rum until it was all gone.

It was a good end to an otherwise miserable day. With three hours to go, the Grant family took their eldest princess to the airport to return to her life back in Ocean Bay University.

Not for the first time in her life, she was looking forward to seeing her sister.

*Wait until Melanie hears the news of how Glenn really changed his life up, never to return to the house without a wife and child in tow.* She shook her head.

During the drive to the airport, Kaylee spent most of the trip looking out the window of the car to the trees that lined the highway. Lost in thought over the last two-weeks.

She wondered if she could just take double classes and never leave the school. It would take a meeting with her mentor and class coördinator.

The world was rainy when she arrived, but it was a rain of promise and excitement, it washed away her doubts from the summer.

Now, it was just grey and wet.

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When the expectant niece asks a question…

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She asks in the digital Facebook, “Any last-minute advice?”

My comment, assuming there is not a gender restriction, although I can admit that it sounded like she aimed for those mom’s that have gone through it before, “Don’t get pregnant in the first place? Passing a bowling ball through your eye socket would be less painful.”

Her friends called me the awkward uncle.

Well. No. Just wise. I have delivered 17 babies, most on mountain roads with drive times still greater than half-hour.  I have observed the pain women-folk go through – and I have seen the men-folk panic, and even faint. (I  found out later that one of these passed-out pops played as captain of the football team and was “used to pain.”)

I can speak Awkward, and a few other languages. Gibberish, Klingon, Confusion. Political gives me trouble. I still don’t understand that doublespeak tripe, especially if they say something akin “What is good for me is over your head, so we will take it from you.”

Heh, I still think they should just open a brothel (for men and women) in the capital building so they can get enough of screwing people to get down to real business.

But I digress. Sorry.

Anyway, by the time anyone delivers a baby, they get to a point where they crush the husband/boyfriend/significant other’s fingers (Or mine when I was green-ish, it only happened once – I learned quick) and utter a 3 word demand.

“I want DRUGS!”

(Laugh allowed at this point and the mom’s out there can nod heads with a knowing smile)

But no matter what you say. Any part of the family of phrases “I won’t want to do this anymore.” Has been said since before recorded history, because the baby is coming and you are on a non-stop ride.

Unless c-section intervention, but that is another ball-game.

So ladies, no offense, but those that have one child and don’t learn? Then go ahead and have another? Then another?

You all remind me of George of the Jungle.

“Watch out for that Tree… oOoH.”

Then you get on that vine again and swing for it.

“Watch out for that Tree… That’s gotta hurt.”

Then…

“Watch … never mind.” I’ll just go sit in the backyard with my bow, laptop to write and seltzer water in the shade.

keep telling myself: “Ain’t my circus. I’m just the Awkward Uncle.”

Now off to do compose some fiction.  I have a bunch of voices pop up last night in my sleep, a few were frightening.

I hope to get you a chapter in something.

I’ll have it posted in five hours.

Dash

From Fiction to Rescue

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Early Sunday, Mother’s Day 2015.

So, at 07:30 in the AM after going to bet at 4:30, I’m writing the post for a next chapter in Smart Bomb.

I need Coffee, and I’m up in the kitchen when my private phone rings.  (Family only) it’s my adult niece, six-months pregnant.  She and her boyfriend  had broken down on a frontage road next to a highway– 40 miles away.

American Auto Association did a great job, considering I had limited information, and the TWO humorous situations involved.

First; the nice woman with a slight Carolina accent (Sounded like she could be Andy Griffiths daughter) whose name is Rhonda.

So my first comment, being as I am calling for a tow?

“Help me Rhonda!”

She got the Beach Boys reference. Seems we’re of the same generation.

Second: “Where do you wish to have the car towed to?”

“Well, let me think about that. It is Sunday, Mother’s Day..so.. probably home.”

A laugh at the other end and a verbal nod.

By the time I got home, rescue performed. I suggested to her, her mother (My sister) to invest in roadside assistance.  If this had occurred the day before, at the time she called, we (Mrs Dash, Princess #1 and I) had gone to the mountains in the east for wine and chocolate tasting, antiquing, general shopping and walking around in a gold-rush era town, there would have been zero contact.  No phone coverage in that area.

I learned a lot. Even a Mercedes has a tow-hook.  You have to get it out of the trunk and screw it into the bumper.

So last nights posting never happened. I was too far behind.

However, Sleeper the car has made an appearance.  I am not sure if it becomes a relationship between one AI and another. Or if this is a …pardon the pun…Came(r)o… appearance.

So the moral of this, family is everything, yes they make you bang your head against the wall, and children are still children for(ever) your heart.

Still, keep it in mind, tow insurance for kids, no matter how old is a good idea. Keeps the crazy uncle, who is oblivious to what the clock says, from wandering around at odd hours, making King Lear seem like a cute pouting baby.

Anyway. Remember to write! Even when the world conspires to take you to places that has no chance to jot down your thoughts.  Which brings me to another thought, the speech to text apps that the android phone?

Why can it not understand a simple term like “Home” but prints out perfectly, the profanity uttered when you finally give up with the effort?

It’s a machine conspiracy.

Dragon Master University Chapter 23. Baby Talk

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Chapter 23. Baby Talk

The weekend. Racing with Eva, Kolo and Qo’noS, he’d gotten chilled and was so terribly exhausted. So much so that he felt like a party lizard (A term he had picked up in the day-room) crawling in after a weekend binge.

He collapsed on to his bed and felt a lump under his pillow struggle.

Sprite crawled out and complained in a whiny voice, then saw who it was.

‟Papa! Papa papa papa papa papa!” Sprite squeaked while bouncing up and down. Eventually settling into the crook of Jona’s arm, licking the neck and ear of Sprite’s favorite human.

His papa.

Jona shushed Sprite while he drifted off to sleep. If anyone could slur a shush, Jona did it as his eyes closed.

Then the papa’s eyes popped open.

‟SPRITE!” Jona jumped up. ‟You talked!”

‟Papa! Papa papa!” The little dragon fluttered and hovered in the air in front of Jona, over the bed.

Laughing, Jona knew Sprite would learn to talk eventually. Still, not comfortable with the fact he was the dad, everyone else in the school took it as a right of passage. Many had, what Jona thought at first as pets, but found out that small dragons reflected that the heart of dragons loved at least as deep as humans.

Just longer. Much, much longer.

After a few minutes to recover from the shock, he held Sprite in his arms and stroked the glass smooth scales that covered the small winged-body.

Settling down, Jona smiled as the little body curled up under his chin, licking a few times, then going into a slumber that, curiously, sounded like a snore.

Only a pint-sized snore.

It was quite relaxing, and Jona slipped off to sleep with Sprite in his arms.

Together, they slept in similar poses.

Jona and Sprite performed a slow, synchronised sleeping ballet in the blankets.

Later, when the sun would rise, Jona would be roused out of bed by his friends. Although he would wonder if they were indeed his friends, for now all Jona wanted, was sleep.

Children of Fury Chapter 12. The News

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The News

During the harvest feast, during the week of the Samhain, Fey was sitting with Conn at dinner with Beli, Donal, Niamh and Gael. After they settled down and spoke of family business, Gael and Niamh began to watch Fey, the elder women began to whisper among themselves that Fey appeared slightly different, a certain… Something.

  Fey wore a constant subtle smile for no clear reason, but the older women suspected the truth of it all. They also knew that the men were oblivious to the young wife’s movements and attitude.

At the end of dinner, Fey looked at Conn in an odd way as if she had something on her mind to say and took his hand in hers.

Drawing a breath, the young wife spoke. “Conn, I wanted to say this in front of everyone.”

Before Conn asked his question of what she was talking about, thinking that he had done something wrong, Fey spoke softly.

“You’re going to be a father.” His wife, best friend and lover said.

Conn’s mother whooped that Fey was pregnant, not waiting for the young man to have the news sink in.

Conn looked at the women folk like they had lost their minds, when Donal and Beli realized what the women were going on about as Donal tapped Beli on the shoulder and whispered a suggestion into the nodding Beli’s ear .

Beli and Donal stood up as the women would do nothing but shush the men from talking. Then Beli leaned over to Conn.

“We have lost all control of this conversation, son. Time to abandon ship.” Beli said softly to Conn, taking care that younger man followed in the wake of the older men.

After they had left the table with Donal, the men sat at a table under an oak tree by the road. Producing a bottle of a fine whiskey that made Conn’s tongue numb after the first drink.

“We need to call a guild meeting and announce this to the men. Otherwise the women will be in charge.” Donal told Conn.

“Women are always in charge!” Beli said, laughed and poured more of the potent brew into his mouth. Conn only looked puzzled as his two elders laughed as if they spilled a secret.

Conn wondered how his father could imbibe such strong drink. The whiskey burned his own throat and took his breath away and made his eyes water. Conn coughed and gasped, amusing his elders. The two patriarchs amazed Conn — again. As the elders always had throughout his life.  How could they drink such vile stuff?

Soon after, they had set up house and Conn announced to the village of a new addition to the O’Danu clan and, according to tradition, the women of the clan threw a party and the Matriarch of the Clan, Gael O’Danu oversaw the events.

The party was a raucous affair and the house was host for two days of anyone who knew, thought they knew or knew someone who knew of the village. All were welcome while the women giggled and ate the food and delicacies that were laid out while the men of the clan cooked, drank beer, sipped uisce beatha, sang and danced.

It was a party spoke of with fond memories in the years that followed.