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Dear Chloe and Lola
Jun. 24th, 2010 02:33 pm
Dear Chloe and Lola,
Once again I have not made good on my promise to write often. It feels like a lifetime has passed since the last time I wrote to you. I suppose, in a manner of speaking, one has.
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Chapter 34 : Let's Make a Deal
Mar. 29th, 2010 03:54 pm
I felt like there was a hunk of burning hot lead in the pit of my belly. It was almost too much for me to comprehend; my brother-in-law was responsible for my father’s abduction. I had always thought that John was a trifle strange, but it never occurred to me that he could be such a creep. Not only had he impregnated my father (I wasn’t even going to consider how it might have been done), he had also felt the need to spawn with my sister as well. This meant that Chloe and Lola were not only our half-sisters, but our nieces as well (and Jenny’s step-daughters!). It reminded me of that old Ray Stevens song, “I’m my own Grandpa”. The only difference was that the song was mildly amusing, while this whole situation was anything but.
( It's a short 'un )
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Chapter 26 : Your Secret is Safe with Me
Dec. 2nd, 2009 11:03 pm
I folded up dad’s letter with the money tucked inside and carefully slid it back into the envelope. I was determined that, when I finally did find my half sisters, they would get everything that my father had intended them to get. Every letter I had read thus far had “Return to Sender” scribbled on the front of the envelope. Even though dad must have been very hurt when every envelope had been returned unwanted, he persisted in writing to his daughters at least every month. Every letter contained money and my father’s never failing conviction that we all would be united as a family one day. There were over two hundred letters in the bundles. I felt a little guilty reading them as they were never meant for my eyes, but it was like reading a chronicle of our lives. Dad mostly wrote about us kids in his letters and very rarely about himself. I felt closer to him as I read them.
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Vidcund stormed down the stairs and across the back porch of the Beaker compound. He crossed the small length of property between the back patio and the radio towers. The foundations for the huge towers had always been an excellent hiding place for his vehicle, whichever one he happened to be driving. He climbed into Pascal’s Jeep, started the engine and drove out across the desert without headlights on, just in case anyone might be watching.
( This chapter is inappropriate for all humans, most primates, and some amphibians. It should never be read by anyone. Ever. )
Amber went to the cupboard, poured me a glass of scotch and sat it in front of me. I downed the entire glass in one and pushed the glass back to her across the island counter.
“Another please,” I croaked.
Amber looked apprehensive.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You still have to go to work.”
“I’m sure.”
While Amber poured, I picked up the next item from the yellow envelope. It was a ragged, faded envelope addressed to my father. It was post marked December 1978.
Amber handed me my second glass of liquid sanity and I drank it down. Bolstered by artificial sense of bravado that comes from drinking fine 15 year scotch, I emptied the tattered envelope of its secrets.
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Chapter 16: Scotch and Skellingtons
Jul. 31st, 2009 07:29 pm
I was lazing about, a few hours before having to leave for work. Sprawled across my bed, staring at the ceiling, I tried to decide how to get the hero of my novel out of a particularly sticky situation. I had put Andy down for her nap and the house was quiet. It was the perfect time for such a mental excursion. I finally decided that what my hero really needed was a tattoo of a great red dragon across his chest. I was contriving a way in which hero could acquire such a tattoo (and bust some heads in the process) when the phone rang. I lunged for the handset on the bed side table and caught it after the first ring.
“Hello?”
I looked in on Andy to make sure that her sleep had not been disturbed. She looked up when I entered the room but quickly lost all interest and went back to sleep.
“Hi Pascal, It’s Amber,” said the voice on the other end.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I was wondering, I know you don’t have to be at work for a while yet and I wanted to know if I could come over a bit early. I have a few things I need to give to you.”
“Really?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine what she might have that she would need to give to me.
“Uh, sure, that’s not a problem” I told her. “Do you wanna come over for some lunch? I was just about whip up some bachelor chow.”
“That would be great.”
I could tell she was excited but, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.
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Amber was sitting on the floor with Andromeda playing with the Wibbly Wobbly Wabbit Head when there was a knock at the door. She hadn’t been expecting any deliveries or any visitors. She put Andromeda in the Pack ‘N Play with her Wobbly Wabbit Head and went to the door. Standing on the other side of the glass was a bachelor’s dream come true; a lovely young girl in a French maid’s costume. Amber thought for a moment that it might be a strip-o-gram for one of the guys. The girl’s skirt was almost obscenely short. The tops of her black thigh high stockings peeked out beneath the frilly black skirt. Amber considered not answering the door for a moment. She didn’t want to be stripped for, at least not by someone of the same gender. As offensive as she found the idea, Amber opened the door to greet the young woman.
I was elated as I left work. The worries and fears of the past few months were finally gone and I had the weekend to devote entirely to my daughter before the worries of the next big project began..
I announced my triumphant return to the bunker with open arms, as if expecting a hug, and shouted, “Lucy, I'm home!”
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Chapter 12: Flinging Poo
Jan. 23rd, 2007 02:42 pm“I should really be going, I am sure you have things you need to do and I have housework that needs tending to,” Amber said as she rose from the kitchen stool. The scotch we had been drinking gave her cheeks a lovely pink glow.
“As much as I hate to I have work that needs to be done for tomorrow. I have presentation I need to make. The company I work for is bidding on another government contract.”
“If you have to go into work tomorrow who will be watching Andromeda?” she asked curiously.
“If Lazlo or Vidcund are off they take care of her, if we all have to be at work, like tomorrow, I will call ‘The Nanny Van’ and they will send someone over to keep her. Usually that old cow Sophie Miguel.”
“Is she that bad?” Amber asked.
“She is really good with the baby, but otherwise she is completely useless. Last week she caught the stove on fire. It was a lucky thing that Lazlo got home when he did, or the house would have gone up in flames,” I explained.
“Oh my! That’s terrible. How on earth did she do that?”
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