Colored Ribbon, Sticky Kisses, and Warren

Happy day after Christmas!! I'm only one day behind for this holiday piece but I feel like that's alright, this holiday season has been a good one and I didn't want to ruin it by isolating myself for an hour writing this. Instead I spent time with my family and had a wonderful Christmas even though there were some rows and it got a bit too loud sometimes but that's what happens when we're all together. So I'm just going to wish all of you a Happy Christmas (though it's belated), a Merry New Year, and a Happy Reading.

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As Chandler woke up she could hear her parents in the kitchen, messing with Christmas morning's breakfast and her small nephew keeping them company. Stretching, Chandler's foot nudged something at the end of her bed causing it to moan out a small “mew.”

“Warren,” Chandler murmured as the large, ashy gray cat prowled up her legs to rest on her stomach, blue eyes half closed but staring in her direction. Warren was her brother Mike's cat, named after his favorite X-Men when he was younger. But the feline had taken more of a liking to Chandler, always sneaking out of Mike's room to sleep at the foot of her bed each night.

Reaching up to scratch behind his ears Chandler could hear the beginning tones of Warren purring. The vibrations running along her stomach too. “Merry Christmas.” Chandler said quietly to the cat while looking at the blue, digital numbers from her alarm clock. It was almost nine o’clock, almost time to get up and open presents. “Come on big boy,” she said as she picked up Warren and rolled out from under the covers. “Time for breakfast.”

Walking down the hallway Chandler could hear the voices in the kitchen grow louder and the smell of coffee becoming stronger. She also saw the Christmas tree in the living room. The lights were still on and the clear ornaments reflected back sun-lights of pink, green, and blue all over the brown wrapped presents under the tree. That had been a tradition in the family that Chandler's parents had started. To recycle old, brown paper bags for wrapping and tying off with a colored ribbon, each specific for one person. There were six different colored ribbons under the tree, Sadie's were always green, her favorite color. Some of Mike and Rose's gifts were wrapped with both colors, indicating that it was a gift for them as a couple.

Warren turned a little, his claws digging into the cloth shirt Chandler was wearing. “All right. All right.” Chandler said to the restless cat and walked into the kitchen, letting Warren jump from her arms onto the floor as she got his kitty bowl out and filled it with food.

“Auntie Candler!” Jay yelled, reaching for her instead of leaving his place from in front of his pancakes to hug her like he wanted to do. “Santa came! He ate the cookies and the carrots are gone!”

“Really?” Chandler asked him as she got a cup of coffee after putting away the kitty kibble. “Did you see him?”

Jay's face fell a little then, “No, I fell asleep.”

Chandler chuckled at her nephew, marveling at how he could pronounce his “r's” now and his still child-like love for Santa and Christmas.

“We're doing presents soon,” Emma, Chandler's mom said as she and the rest of the family started cleaning up their breakfast plates. “You better eat something Chandler.”

“Yes mom,” Chandler said, sitting next to Jay and half listening to him talk about what the big box under the tree could be as she grabbed a couple of pancakes and spread applesauce on them. He kept going back to a puppy.

“Jay-Bird,” Rose said to her son, extending her hand out to him so he would take it and follow her. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

Stopping mid sentence and standing up in his chair Jay leaned over and gave Chandler a sticky kiss on the cheek, “Merry Christmas Auntie.”

Smiling and ignoring the stickiness on her cheek, Chandler said “Merry Christmas Jay-Bird,” to the retreating form of Jay and returned to her pancakes, too lazy to wipe her face yet.

Warren hopped up into the now empty seat beside Chandler and mewed a little, his blue eyes half closed again.

Chandler smiled again, the syrup still on her face and her hair catching in it as she realized, in his own feline way, that Warren had just wished her a Merry Christmas too.

Rock, Paper, Turkey

Okay, here it is. I told you I would put one up...SUCCESS! I just want to throw some ground rules out for you (and myself because I keep forgetting-lol). I'm going to try and stick to Chandler and make it 3rd person point of view. I haven't really stuck to this, so hopefully by making the choice now it'll stick. Haha. So happy turkey day and happy reading!!

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“Umm...can you read that again?” Sadie squeaked, her disgust mingled in with surprise.

“We're suppose to clean it out and stick the veggies in there...” Chandler trailed off, her amber eyes lingering on the turkey carcass in the pan on the counter.

“I'll play you for it.” Sadie quipped, her own mossy-green eyes on the turkey.

“On three.” Chandler said, putting the cookbook on the counter and readying her right fist. “One...two...three...shoot.”

Sadie pulled paper, her gold nails playing off the light as they faced upward, and Chandler pulled scissors. “Two out of three?” Sadie asked, her voice gaining a hint of desperation as the thought of touching the cold bird became more apparent.

“No way,” Chandler backed up and went over to the potatoes on the stove, “I'm going to start on the potatoes then desserts. Don't forget to tie it off and baste it after you put in the veggies.”

******

It only took Sadie an hour to get the turkey together, her disgust for touching the turkey lessening after the cavern was filled and tied off at the legs. “I'm going to shower...with lots of hot water.” Sadie said as she left the kitchen, her hands as far away from her body as possible.

Chandler nodded and rubbed her forehead before going back to kneading the dough for the homemade rolls that night. Ten minutes passed before the doorbell rang announcing that Sadie's parents and Chandler's family had shown up. “Door's open!” Chandler called out, setting aside the rolls now so they could raise before being put into the oven.

******

The Macy Thanksgiving Parade music switched to that of a football game, the commentators remarking on different plays and passes as Chandler ran around the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don't need any help honey?” Emma, Chandler's mom asked as she hovered in the doorway of the kitchen watching her daughter move from one pot to another in a rush.

“I'm fine mom,” Chandler clipped out, her attention more focused on the meal then on her mother. “Sadie and I said we would take care of it this year--”

“Yeah,” Sadie said as she moved past her aunt to put a cooled pie into the fridge and away from people's picking fingers. “We've got this Auntie Em. Being grown up and what not. Go out an enjoy the parade.” Sadie finished, popping the fridge door closed with her hip and smiling up at her aunt.

“Alright,” Emma said before leaving the kitchen. The door swung back into place once she moved and left Chandler and Sadie to themselves.

“I can't believe we agreed to this,” Chandler frantically whispered to her cousin. Her blonde hair was loose in the hair tie causing her long fringe to hang around her face. There was a streak of flour across her forehead from when Chandler worked on the bread earlier that morning, she hadn't had time to wash it off yet.

Sadie walked over to Chandler, nudging her aside a little. Next to her cousin, Sadie looked well having been able to sneak in a quick shower before the main food needed more work. “Let me take over for a little bit. Go take a shower or something, it'll be fine Chan.”

“But--”Chandler started to protest as Sadie pushed her cousin through the door.

“Go, I've got it.”

******

Chandler stood in her bathroom, washed and dressed in something clean, and worrying about the meal that her and Sadie had been making. What if it turned out awful? What if they burned something? Did they forget anything that they had needed? Looking down, Chandler saw her thinning sheers sticking out of the open drawer. Grabbing them, she pulled a section of hair forward and snipped, this she had control over.

******

“Cute bangs,” Sadie said as she pulled the turkey out of the oven to check it's process.

“Thanks.” Chandler pulled the rest of her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way as she finished helping Sadie out.

Closing the oven door again Sadie walked over to Chandler and placed an arm around her shoulders. “You freaked out didn't you?” Her voice had a light tone to it.

“A little,” Chandler chuckled, “figured I could control my hair but these stupid things aren't cooperating either.”

“It'll be fine. And everything is done too.” Sadie said, tugging on Chandler’s hair and resting her head on her cousin's shoulder.

Blowing up to move the fringe from her eyes Chandler stirred the green beans once more. “Okay, let's eat.”

“Great, I can't wait to eat this! Especially that turkey, it doesn't look so gross anymore.”

Laughing, Chandler moved the green beans into a bowl. “Yeah, and we didn't blow it up like dad and Uncle Andrew did last year.”

Movember

Okay...so I totally forgot to do a Halloween piece, I'm truly sorry (blame the education system, it has been keeping me waaay too busy). So you'll get two “holiday” posts for November. No-Shave November and Thanksgiving. Here's the first one!

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“I'm thinking of doing that thing.” Sadie said when she walked into the kitchen, her feet catching on the him of her sweatpants.

“What thing?” Chandler asked, her voice amplifying around her as she reached into the dryer for the last, lone sock stuck in the back.

Sadie walked over to the snack bowl and grabbed a small bag of chocolate covered cashews. “That thing Josh is doing. Not shaving.”

Straightening up Chandler looked at her cousin, the sock with its mate snuggled next to it now, and raised a blond eyebrow. “You do know that not shaving is to raise awareness for testicular cancer right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Sadie murmured around a mouthful of cashews. Swallowing, she said “Yeah, but it's for other charity events too. It's cold anyways so its not like I'll be wearing shorts and stuff.”

“I guess...” Chandler drew out, giving her cousin an odd look. “I guess it makes sense.”

“I know right?! PANTS!” Sadie emphasized. Her eyes brightening at the revelation. “And my shower time will be cut in half basically. It's a win-win.”

Untitled Rough

So I'm in a fiction class right now and thought I'd post something from class. This is the beginning to the second story I'm working on now. I'll post again on Halloween for sure with Sadie and Chandler. Until then happy reading!!

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They come every afternoon. Never twice in a row, with words and stories that they feel like I should know. And I can't remember. No matter how many times I hear about breaking my arm when I fell out of a tree. Or the silly made-up award I got during a choir banquet. I can't remember anything since the accident. My childhood, my adolescence, some of my adult life, gone.

I know the stories told and the people who come now. I just can't remember the events or who the people use to be to me.

***

It's Tuesday. Lunch today is turkey on wheat with applesauce and a snack-sized bag of potato chips that are mostly crumbs. Edna is here too. She always brings a thermos of hot cocoa. It's old with a red plaid design on the outside and a matching red cup on top. She says that it had been Jack's, my grandfather. Edna always tells me when she pulls out the thermos from her knitting bag. I just nod. I've heard it so many times that I know she's going to say it. Edna will tell me how Jack took it with him on every camping and fishing trip, how when I was younger I would always carry it out to him before he would drive off in that old, rusty pick-up of his.

I think it breaks her heart when I call her Edna. She always insists on me calling her “Gammy” but I can't. I feel no connection to this woman. Sometimes it breaks my heart too. But I don't understand the love that Edna is always trying to give me and she leaves, the thermos back in her knitting bag along with her stories of myself and Jack.

***

Friday, the day of my discharge. Jamie and Dean are here to pick me up and take me back to their place. The doctor says that familiar places might trigger my memories. So I'm going home. That's what Jamie and Dean are saying anyways, that they are taking me home. I imagine that they'll show me pictures that were once meant for photo albums with smiles on their faces that hold false hope. And I'll look with blank eyes and try to comprehend. But their stories make me tired and their house makes me feel out of place.

***

“I don't like raspberries.”

A glass drops. It must have slipped through Jamie's fingers. “Tessa, what is it sweetheart? What did you say?” She's next to me now, her light green eyes searching mine. It's uncomfortable.

I shrug and nudge the plate in front of me with the assortment of fruit. “I don't like raspberries.” I concentrate on my fingers, the index and middle finger are bound together, they must have broken in the accident.

Jamie's breathe catches and I can feel her hands tremble on the armrests of the wooden kitchen chair I'm sitting in. “And the others?”

I pick up a slice of a pear, the skin is a yellowish-green, and take a bite. “I'm allergic to peaches, I think.” I mumble around the meat of the fruit and pop the other half into my mouth, reaching out for a piece of an orange next.

Jamie places her arms around me, her whole upper body is trembling now, and hugs me. I turn my head away from her and see the broken glass. Jamie had poured milk into it before it hit the floor. A pool of watery white liquid runs across the tan-tilled floor.

***

It's been four months since I was discharged from the hospital. I'm remembering more now. How the mini-van had run the red-light, causing me to t-bone my motorcycle into it, helmet flying off after I first hit the ground, and me flipping over the trashed hunk of metal. That the EMT's had to cut me out of my favorite pair of light-washed jeans. That Nora, a young woman that had stopped visiting my second week in the hospital, had been my girlfriend of three months. My guess is that she couldn't handle me not remembering her.

I can recall breaking my arm now, how Dean had cursed up a storm in the ER. I know my vocabulary expanded that day and that Jamie wouldn't have cared for her eight year old little girl to know so many new four-lettered words.

I can even remember trivial things. That my favorite flowers are violet freesias. That I love cereal so much I know I could eat it for a month straight. That I prefer blue pens over black. My guilty pleasure before the accident had been Cake Boss. And I can remember that when I was younger I did want to be a legitimate princess with a stable full of ponies and a pretty golden crown.

I tell Jamie and Dean everything when I remember and write it down. Jamie always calls Edna to let her know what I'm learning about myself. Sometimes I overhear their conversation. How they both wish that I could remember more, remember them and that they're my family.

***

It's a Saturday, there's a cookout happening outside with no chance of rain. I keep to myself, wanting to stay away from the vaguely familiar people who shove their sweaty palms into mine. “Tessa, darling, please.” Dean says to me as he grabs the hotdogs and patted out hamburgers from the refrigerator for the barbeque. “Just try, for your mom's sake.”

I stir the macaroni salad, making sure to mix the onion, tomato, and cucumber cubes in with the noodles. “Dad, I can't...” I start, my spoon stopping mid-stir after the words are out of my mouth. I glance over at Dad and I can see a smile pulling at his bearded cheeks. “Alright, maybe it won't be so bad.”

Holiday Writings...BEGIN!!!

Happy Labor Day weekend!! Cookouts. Burgers. Pools. The “last” days of summer.

So here are Chandler and Sadie again (remember I wrote about them on Valentine’s Day this year? Well if you don’t go find it and read about them then and come back for now). I have decided to write them when holiday’s are coming up and if I need a light break once in awhile.

They’ll be like Stephon from SNL but not as funny (because really, who can beat Bill Hader’s Weekend Update character?)

Happy Reading and Holiday!!!

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All Chandler got as a warning was “CANNONBALL!” before being soaked by a wave of water. Stupid Bobby…

Bobby, the bane of Chandler and Sadie’s home life. Whenever Chandler and Sadie came back to their parent’s homes (which were next door to one another) Bobby would somehow get word and rush back from university as well. And ruin their much needed time of relaxation.

“Like, what is your problem?” Sadie squealed, waving her oversized lime green sunglasses in her hand like a saber and wiping the water droplets off her deep purple top. “I swear you were raised by wolves—no way your mother would have let you live long enough if she actually raised your sorry as—“

“Sadie!” I start, looking over at my family by the grill. My brother and his wife came over for today as well, bringing their three year old that had picked up the habit of mimicking everything Sadie and I said.

“Fine, whatever…” Sadie mumbled; stretching out again on her towel and placing the eyewear back on her tanned face.

“Auntie Candler,” Jay called, his small arms encased in bright orange swimmer’s wings splashed the surface of the pool. “Come pway wif me.”

Looking over at Sadie I tried to get her attention, to get her to come in the pool with me. But before I could water splashed back up on the two of us. “Come on you over sunned leather hides. Get your bikini butts in here.”

“Watch out you moron—the baby!” I said, choosing to ignore his flippant words. I walked over to where Jay was bobbing up and down and reached in to lift him up, my one-piece soaking in the water that fell off of my nephew.

Jay began to cry a little, “Auntie Candler…I want to go swimwng. Go splash splash splash.”

Sadie had gotten up now and was standing beside me. “We’ll play later Jay-Bird. Let’s go see what Grandma’s doing.”

Jay perked up when he heard “Grandma” and started to reach around Chandler towards where he thought she would be. “I guess the majority have spoken.” Chandler said as she and Sadie walked off towards the back deck.

“Hey,” Bobby called out, “Wait for me…”

“Na-uh.” Sadie called back over her shoulder, “You’re still wet and Aunt Rose will have a fit if you walk into her house.”

Bobby caught up to Chandler ad Sadie, wrapping a towel around his pasty waist. “You two are wet…and he’s soaked.”

Jay piped up for Chandler and Sadie, silencing Bobby from complaining further. “Grammy wuvs me!” He stated and buried his wet hair under Chandler’s chin.

“Looks like Jay-Bird has spoken,” Sadie said, lifting her sunglasses again so Bobby could see the smugness that hid underneath the oversized lenses.

New (School) Year

I'm taking another fiction writing class this semester (yeah!) but I can't work on Willowwacks there (boo!). But here's a beginning assignment that we have to do (we actually have to do three and two will be stories that we will work on through out the semester). Enjoy and I'll try and update this more frequently with assignments from class, Willowwacks work (if I'm able to get around to it), or even some Stacy bits here and there.

Happy reading :)

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It was still early for the pleather green seats in Madhouse to be full of college kids wanting to booze up their night or business suits wanting to distress from the office, but Callum still walked through the paint chipped door and sat in front of the bartender cleaning out glasses. “A Manhattan.” Callum sighed, kneading his eyes with his left palm and slumping over the bar top. His shoulders pulled at the seams along the light blue dress shirt, his jacket forgotten on the bar top beside his elbow. Callum still favored his right shoulder even though it had been three months since he was shot out on the field it was still in a sling.

“Tough day C?” Jason, the bartender, asked while he finished pouring the bourbon and vermouth drink into a cocktail glass.

Grasping the mouth of the stemware Callum swung back, downing half of the amber-red concoction before answering Jason. “My first day back and all I had to do was paperwork and I’m still exhausted.”

Jason chuckled and picked up the dishrag again. His tattooed arm began wiping off the top, collecting crumbs from carvings people drew into the worn wood. “I guess that’s what happens when you get yourself shot.”

Rubbing his hand through the short-cropped, auburn hair Callum grunted. “This wasn’t what I thought one of the perks of being a “hero” would’ve been.” He downed the rest of his Manhattan and fished out the maraschino cherry from the bottom of the glass, popping the steam off between his teeth.

Eyeing the empty cocktail glass, Jason quirked an eyebrow at his dejected friend. “Should I make you another?”

Shaking his head Callum chewed on the stem, “Really shouldn’t. Back to papers and filling out forms again tomorrow. Don’t want a hangover on my second day.”

“You are off the clock right man?” Jason asked, taking the empty cocktail glass and moving it to a bin under the bar for dirty dishes. “Can’t have my bartending license revoked now.” Jason chuckled, throwing the rag onto his shoulder and palming the bar top. “I guess it would be funny if you arrested me though right? Ha! Could you even do that?”

Callum’s mouth tilted up a bit causing the cherry stem to point at Jason. “No, I clocked out. No worries man.”

“Good, good,” Jason smiled his long face pulling up a bit when he did so. “I’ll go ask Shae if he could throw on a burger for you.”

Callum didn’t respond when Jason went into the kitchen to place the order. Once gone, Callum sunk into himself. Every moment he relived the shooting. His dreams were the worst though; his subconscious would shift the events, causing them to be more terrible then what they truly were. He wasn’t even a certified cop until eleven months ago, not even a full year before getting a bullet to his shoulder. Getting shot, even though it wasn’t an injury that was too serious, still shook Callum up when he thought about it. He didn’t like doing paper work but the idea of going back out into the streets of Buffalo now was more terrifying. It wouldn’t take long until Officer Morrison ordered Callum to take a psyche evaluation.

Jason came back out when Callum was reliving the incident and placed the cooked burger in front of the pensive officer. “Hey Cal,” Jason said in a somber voice, leaning in front of Callum to look up into his downturned eyes, “it’s going to be alright. You know that right?”

Callum didn’t know if anything would be alright but he forced a false smile on his face, “Yeah,” and grabbed his burger taking a large bite out of it so he wouldn’t have to talk to Jason about it further.

The door to Madhouse opened again welcoming a new customer. They sat one seat down from Callum, “What ‘cha got on tap limbs?” a female voice asked. Her voice was rich and warm, like honey. Looking over Callum saw a mass of dark hair, curling in every way. She looked over at him, her nose twitching a bit and pointed to his mouth “You got some on your face there sugah.”

Jason barked, “Here ya’ go man.” And handed a napkin to Callum.

Turing forward again Callum wiped his face, a glob of mayo and ketchup smearing across the folded paper product.

“I’m Nina,” the woman says, scorching over to sit beside Callum.

“Callum Gentry.”

Jason placed a pint of Budweiser in front of Nina and took her order of hot wings into the back. Callum didn’t say anything else.

After taking a long draft from her glass Nina turned towards Callum, her knee knocking against his trouser-clad leg. “Not much of a talker are you?”

“…”

“Ooo-kay then. So, how’d you get your arm hammock?”

Callum placed his burger down and waved two fingers at Jason to get him to bring over a glass of water. But Jason answered for him while placing the water in front of Callum’s half eaten burger.

Introducing

Something inspired all by simple (yet amusing) word...WILLOWWACKS. So here's a little sneak peek into what I am now wanting to run with until term starts again on the 22nd.

So when I discovered this fabulous word last night I quickly jotted down a couple of blurbs. Hope this gets you excited for Willowwacks because I get excited when I glance through it when I need a reboot.

Take One:

Welcome to the Willowwacks, home to Fáelán, our unsuspecting hero…
Before I get ahead of myself, let’s establish some things first. One: Fáelán does not know of his importance or the circumstances that have been triggered by what he has done. (EXPAND)
Second: Willowwacks is an institution of sorts in the middle of town (NAME TOWN, DESCRIBE TOWN).
And finally C: I only take one lump of sugar in my tea.
Let the story commences!

A/N: My first take was just a rough so here's the second shot at it.

Take Two:

Welcome to the Willowwacks, home to Fáelán, our unsuspecting hero…
Before I get ahead of myself, let’s establish some things first. One: Fáelán does not know of his importance or the circumstances that have been triggered by what he has done. (REWORD/EXPAND)
Second: This all started when Fáelán strode into The Billet (the local pub in Willowwacks) and DID SOMETHING (NAME TOWN, DESCRIBE TOWN).
And finally C: So you don’t screw up a proper cup of tea, I only take one lump of sugar.
Let the story commences!

A/N: Still a little rough but both (I think) can lead me to the right path down to the town of Willowwacks :)

Almost more excited about this then flushing out Stacy who's been living in my head for three+ years :P