«Okay, that was subtle» thought Davis as he moved his pawn across the board. His father, Alan, pondered Davis’ move before removing the white pawn via his black bishop. “Well you are 32 years old, living at home, moved in your wife, had your children and have never worked a day in your life.”
“But dad, do I really have to? Grandma Kelly left us a ton of money, plus that massive house in Fuller’s Isle. They royalties from mom’s album are ridiculous. The money made from your game tours and your sci-fi paintings is astounding.”
“And you feel no shame in not actually being able to financially support your family?”
“They’re taken care of,” defended Davis.
“-By your mother and I. I wish I knew a way change your work ethic.”
“But why does it bother so much?”
“Your mother babies you,” complained Alan. “She should have sent you out on your own. You could have only benefited from the experience.”
“And what do you expect me to do?”
“Get a job, put your natural skills to good use. You can work for a company or start your own?
“You want me, with no college or university education and no marketable skills to start a corporation?”
“Are you crazy? I wouldn’t invest in that. I’m talking about opening a shop or something like that.”
“Selling what?”
“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for son. You’re also pretty handy with a sewing machine. There nothing wrong with working in the clothing industry. By the way Davis, checkmate!”
“What!” cried Davis. “I didn’t even see that coming.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t see son. Did you hear how they may be repealing the generational letter law?”
“So you mean I don’t have to give my child a name that starts with D? Thought it was a dumb law to begin with.”
“Maybe I should have used the word ‘amend’. Mayor Devlin says that despite it being a long standing Winchester Isle tradition, dating all the way back to with Founder’s Isle and starting with Adam and Annie Winchester-” Alan paused to take a breath. “According to the newspaper, Mayor Devlin is going to have it so that it would be either the 1st or 2nd name would have to follow the Generational Letter Law.”
Alan pushed back the chair from the chess table and sighed heavily. “Alright son. I’ve come to the conclusion I am just not as young as I used to be. I’m heading off to bed. Good-night.”
“Good-night dad,” said Davis, watching his father walking to the bedroom he shared with Laurel.
Davis couldn’t take it anymore. His father’s words were starting to affect his thought process.
Kana had previously lost her job at the local newspaper and as a soon as Davis and his mother, Laurel, found out that she was pregnant, they told her no to rush back to work.
Davis did not like this new feeling. Kana had gone out to find work when he stayed at home, doing whatever struck his fancy.
«Dad’s right» thought Davis sighing.
“Daddy?” Davis saw his little girl Rachael. He wouldn’t like it if Rachael ended up with someone who wouldn’t work to support his daughter.
“DADDY!”
“Yes Rach?”
“You weren’t listening to me.” Davis looked at her with a smile, remembering when she was still a baby.
“I’m listening now.”
“You know how the new basketball court opened down the street? I was wonder if I could go…”
“Rachael-“
“You can come too!” interrupted Rachael before he could object.
“You want to go out in public with me?” asked Davis with a chuckle.
“Daddy! Who else am I supposed to go play basketball with? Besides you’re still kinda cool.” Davis loved her smile. It was just like her mother’s.
“I’m still cool? Really? A practically teenager thinks I’m cool.”
“I said ‘kinda’ cool. There’s still a difference.”
“Go put out some shorts so we can enjoy the little remaining heat of the fall. Meet you back down in 20 minutes.”
“Daddy, look at her.”
“Rachael, don’t make fun of people,” he said not looking where she was pointing. “That’s not- What the heck are they wearing to a basketball court.”
Sybil Kirby apparently ventured down from the Farmer’s District, looking like she was auditioning for Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical”. But who surprised Davis even more was Dylan Pullen in a men’s «assuming» figure skating outfit, rhinestones and all.
Davis assumed a bet had occurred and Dylan lost. Either that or he was trying out for the men’s figure skating competition at the basketball court.
Davis shook his head with a chuckle. “Doesn’t change anything Rachael, still don’t make fun of people.” He spied the photo booth right beside the hot dog stand and checked his pockets for his anti-bacterial sanitizer. Sure enough, it was there.
“Let’s go take a picture to commemorate this daddy-daughter outing.”
“I’m not going in there. It’s filthy!” Rachael tried to walk to the basketball courts but her father reached out and held her firmly on the shoulder.
“I have sanitizer and I’m prepared to wipe everything down.” Davis pulled out the sanitizer as proof. Rachael sighed but nodded. She hated photo booths. Something about them just seemed dirty, especially in such public places.
She waited outside while she hoped her dad was cleaning everything meticulously. The new busker showed off her pop and locks moves and was offering lessons for a fee. «Maybe Daddy would like that»
“Rachael, it’s clean.” Rachael gathered her nerves and ventured into the cramped photo booth.
“I know you’re getting to be a big girl.”
“Dad, I’m 10.”
“I know but there’s only one seat. Just sit on my lap and we’ll take the picture.” Rachael’s nose wrinkled in disgust. «At least I’m not on the chair»
“And no frowning in the picture.” Rachael sighed heavily. “None of that,” said Davis as he proceeded to tickle his princess. As the laughter bubbled out of her mouth, the flash went off.
At Rachael’s suggestion, Davis watched the busker show off her pop and lock moves. «That doesn’t look so hard» Davis got her attention when he waved money in her face for lessons.
«Ok, so that was more difficult than I thought»
Rachael was cheering for him when he finally got the moves down.
“Show her your skills daddy! The fire one.”
Davis lit both ends of the baton and proceeded to show the husker a thing or two. He was also quite surprised he even got some spectators. He finished off his routine with a flourish and applause. Rachael smiled at her father.
“Come-on kiddo, let’s go home.”
“Daddy, you know how Mrs. Thayer took us on a walking tour of Upper Winchester? I saw this nice house that I think can be a shop If we could do some remodeling. Maybe you could sell some of the extra stuff you make. And then people would buy them like crazy and we’d be rich!”
“Rachael, we’re already rich.”
“But we could always be richer,” she said with a grin as she walked home hand in hand with her father, eyes alight with pleasure.
Showing posts with label Winchester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winchester. Show all posts
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Friday, 30 July 2010
angry avoidance
“Incompetent newspaper boy...Man...Whatever! He’s certainly too old to be having a job like this. And he still can't keep the newspaper out of my flowers. Aargh!”
Carrie picked up her newspaper, glaring at the back of Seth McArthur as he walked over to the next house to repeat the same process.
“And don’t think I’m not going to report you behavior to your boss! I want a different person delivering my newspaper from now on!” she yelled. Carrie slammed the front door and went into her kitchen to eat her breakfast of a toaster pastry as she went over yesterday’s news.
«Beautifying Lower Winchester? What the hell for? Probably only because the mayoral house is there. The Cottage District needs love too ya know!»
Carrie knew she was over-reacting. She had been angry at everyone lately. Not that Carrie was generally a happy person but snapping at the paper...man and yelling down the street an angry fishwife was a bit much. She really needed to de-stress.
She could imagine could imagine it now, He would be just finished making her favorite breakfast, cheese omelettes with some mushrooms and peppers and would be walking over to her quaint breakfast booth in the nothing but an old pair of pyjama pants with his university logo printed on the leg and a tea cloth draped over his left shoulder. She watched his barefeet walk across the linoleum tile as he approached her, gently placing her omelette in front of her with a smile and cleaning the plate edge with the tea cloth. She would look up at him and smile, admiring his beautiful brown eyes and red hair and hands wonderful hands as his fingers curled around hers. “You better enjoy your breakfast,” he would murmer. “Cause the only way you’d get me to make you a meal is in your dreams.”
Carrie snapped out of her dreamlike state and looked down at her toaster pastry in disgust.
“Who am I kidding? All I really want to have is an omelette.” Carrie carried the offensive plate to the garbage. “And Alvin to serve it to me.”
Business was slow in the early afternoon. No one really felt the need to buy a desk or dinner table at 1:30 in the afternoon. Carrie leaned back on the counter with the cash register, looking at the people walking by; some on their way out for coffee, some heading to the salon, some heading to the wedding dress shop nearby.
Carrie sighed. She knew one of the reasons customers were not in the store was because of her attitude. It didn't take much convincing for her to realize that one of the only reasons she had customers was due to no one else selling her products.
«What would I give for some entertainment»
This time it was a blue oxford button up shirt and dark blue jeans. She was powerless to stop him as he picked her up and placed her on the counter. She admired his physical strength. She was far from a small woman. And yet in his hands, she seemed as a light as a feather.
He spread her thighs and stood between them. One hand gently touched her cheeks as he pulled her head towards his. Carrie’s lips parted adn her eyes slowly closed.
Carrie’s day dream was rudely interrupted by the man starring in her fantasies; except the real thing was far too argumentative and talked entirely too much.
“Why are you here?” she asked angrily, knowing she was blushing and cursing her pale skin. The look he gave her was heated and that grin irritated beyond belief.
“What kind of crack-pot customer service is that?” He propped himself on the counter from her fantasy. Carrie scowled at him.
“Are you actually here to purchase something? No? I didn’t think so. Besides, how many desks and dinner tables does one person really need.” Carrie started to feel some of her nervousness going away. She could argue with him any day of the week, for hours on end. She suspected he enjoyed their almost daily tete-a-tetes. She took a bold step forward, invading his personal space. “Why are you here?” She didn’t know where the huskiness in her voice came from. She stared up at him, arms crossed across her chest, eyes blazing in defiance. “Why do you feel the need to invade my personal space?”
She saw his gaze drop to her lips as she licked them nervously. His lips looked like they were getting closer. Her heartbeat was erratic.
The bell over the door jingled and out of the corner of her eye, Carrie saw two customers come in.
She backed away and then around him, putting on a smile.
“How may I help you?” she asked brightly as she could manage.
Carrie picked up her newspaper, glaring at the back of Seth McArthur as he walked over to the next house to repeat the same process.
“And don’t think I’m not going to report you behavior to your boss! I want a different person delivering my newspaper from now on!” she yelled. Carrie slammed the front door and went into her kitchen to eat her breakfast of a toaster pastry as she went over yesterday’s news.
«Beautifying Lower Winchester? What the hell for? Probably only because the mayoral house is there. The Cottage District needs love too ya know!»
Carrie knew she was over-reacting. She had been angry at everyone lately. Not that Carrie was generally a happy person but snapping at the paper...man and yelling down the street an angry fishwife was a bit much. She really needed to de-stress.
She could imagine could imagine it now, He would be just finished making her favorite breakfast, cheese omelettes with some mushrooms and peppers and would be walking over to her quaint breakfast booth in the nothing but an old pair of pyjama pants with his university logo printed on the leg and a tea cloth draped over his left shoulder. She watched his barefeet walk across the linoleum tile as he approached her, gently placing her omelette in front of her with a smile and cleaning the plate edge with the tea cloth. She would look up at him and smile, admiring his beautiful brown eyes and red hair and hands wonderful hands as his fingers curled around hers. “You better enjoy your breakfast,” he would murmer. “Cause the only way you’d get me to make you a meal is in your dreams.”
Carrie snapped out of her dreamlike state and looked down at her toaster pastry in disgust.
“Who am I kidding? All I really want to have is an omelette.” Carrie carried the offensive plate to the garbage. “And Alvin to serve it to me.”
Business was slow in the early afternoon. No one really felt the need to buy a desk or dinner table at 1:30 in the afternoon. Carrie leaned back on the counter with the cash register, looking at the people walking by; some on their way out for coffee, some heading to the salon, some heading to the wedding dress shop nearby.
Carrie sighed. She knew one of the reasons customers were not in the store was because of her attitude. It didn't take much convincing for her to realize that one of the only reasons she had customers was due to no one else selling her products.
«What would I give for some entertainment»
This time it was a blue oxford button up shirt and dark blue jeans. She was powerless to stop him as he picked her up and placed her on the counter. She admired his physical strength. She was far from a small woman. And yet in his hands, she seemed as a light as a feather.
He spread her thighs and stood between them. One hand gently touched her cheeks as he pulled her head towards his. Carrie’s lips parted adn her eyes slowly closed.
Carrie’s day dream was rudely interrupted by the man starring in her fantasies; except the real thing was far too argumentative and talked entirely too much.
“Why are you here?” she asked angrily, knowing she was blushing and cursing her pale skin. The look he gave her was heated and that grin irritated beyond belief.
“What kind of crack-pot customer service is that?” He propped himself on the counter from her fantasy. Carrie scowled at him.
“Are you actually here to purchase something? No? I didn’t think so. Besides, how many desks and dinner tables does one person really need.” Carrie started to feel some of her nervousness going away. She could argue with him any day of the week, for hours on end. She suspected he enjoyed their almost daily tete-a-tetes. She took a bold step forward, invading his personal space. “Why are you here?” She didn’t know where the huskiness in her voice came from. She stared up at him, arms crossed across her chest, eyes blazing in defiance. “Why do you feel the need to invade my personal space?”
She saw his gaze drop to her lips as she licked them nervously. His lips looked like they were getting closer. Her heartbeat was erratic.
The bell over the door jingled and out of the corner of her eye, Carrie saw two customers come in.
She backed away and then around him, putting on a smile.
“How may I help you?” she asked brightly as she could manage.
Monday, 26 July 2010
it's all fun and games, until someone looses an eye...
I never understood why she felt the need to come in an through the backdoor. But I always leave it open for her. She says she doesn’t need everyone to know her business. I always retort “It’s 11 o’clock at night in a farming area. Who’s going to be up to see you anyways?”
There was never much talking. Neither of us were there for conversation. What was the point when we were only interested in a bit of fun. SHe had a wicked imagination. The tings she could with her hands were amazing.
Sometimes it was fast, at other times, tantalizingly slow. We had a good few months together and as far as I knew, neither of us were looking for anyone new for now.
And then she called and cancelled on me three times in a row. After a month, she shows up at the farm.
“I went to see Dr. Pearson this morning,” said said nervously. She had never been nervous around me. “It’s probably not what you want or need to hear but I’m going to tell you anways.”
She looked up at me, with an unwavering brown gaze.
“I’m pregnant.”
There was never much talking. Neither of us were there for conversation. What was the point when we were only interested in a bit of fun. SHe had a wicked imagination. The tings she could with her hands were amazing.
Sometimes it was fast, at other times, tantalizingly slow. We had a good few months together and as far as I knew, neither of us were looking for anyone new for now.
And then she called and cancelled on me three times in a row. After a month, she shows up at the farm.
“I went to see Dr. Pearson this morning,” said said nervously. She had never been nervous around me. “It’s probably not what you want or need to hear but I’m going to tell you anways.”
She looked up at me, with an unwavering brown gaze.
“I’m pregnant.”
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Drabble #014
Universe: Winchester
Characters: Drake Thayer and Moonunit (Moon) Zappa
"You really suck at pool," said Moon, as he watched Drake's cue completely miss the ball.
"Well you're not too good either," said Drake to his brother in law.
"You're the one with the pool table."
"That I just got last week," Drake replied. "How do you keep up the lovey-dovey stuff at home with Christina. I just don't get it."
"Christina and the kids are home life," explained Moon, watching Drake attempt another shot. "Outside of the house is a completely different story. To keep Chrissy happy, I lay it on thick,, the serenading, the affectionate kissy faces and eskimo kisses crap. That way she doesn't concern herself with my life outside of the home. My shot!". Moon went up to the table.
"I dunno. I think Cathy is starting to suspect."
"You've only done it like what? Twice?"
"With the same woman and we've had some pretty heated make-out sessions around the back Winch Bank," explained Drake.
"Yeah, but let's be honest, those Winchester girls did not come pretty and if Dingo wasn't my kid, I wouldn't be married to her anyways. You know these Winchesters are traditionalists. Dingo's official last name is Winchester because Chrissy and I weren't married yet."
"I think Cathy is beautiful," said Drake.
"In the eye of the beholder," muttered Moon. "I mean seriously, let's take Cathy's 'beautifu' and put against Tiffany's 'friggin gorgeous'."
Drake knew he had a lot of thinking to do. «What do I really want?»
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
Characters: Drake Thayer and Moonunit (Moon) Zappa
"You really suck at pool," said Moon, as he watched Drake's cue completely miss the ball.
"Well you're not too good either," said Drake to his brother in law.
"You're the one with the pool table."
"That I just got last week," Drake replied. "How do you keep up the lovey-dovey stuff at home with Christina. I just don't get it."
"Christina and the kids are home life," explained Moon, watching Drake attempt another shot. "Outside of the house is a completely different story. To keep Chrissy happy, I lay it on thick,, the serenading, the affectionate kissy faces and eskimo kisses crap. That way she doesn't concern herself with my life outside of the home. My shot!". Moon went up to the table.
"I dunno. I think Cathy is starting to suspect."
"You've only done it like what? Twice?"
"With the same woman and we've had some pretty heated make-out sessions around the back Winch Bank," explained Drake.
"Yeah, but let's be honest, those Winchester girls did not come pretty and if Dingo wasn't my kid, I wouldn't be married to her anyways. You know these Winchesters are traditionalists. Dingo's official last name is Winchester because Chrissy and I weren't married yet."
"I think Cathy is beautiful," said Drake.
"In the eye of the beholder," muttered Moon. "I mean seriously, let's take Cathy's 'beautifu' and put against Tiffany's 'friggin gorgeous'."
Drake knew he had a lot of thinking to do. «What do I really want?»
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
Drabble #010
Universe: WI
Characters: Garret Kirby-Devlin, Jake Devlin, Carmela Kirby
"Do I have to wear this stupid tie Jake?" asked Garret, fidgeting with the blue and black stripped tie around your neck.
"You're lucky I'm allowing you to wear jeans. When I was your age, I couldn't even wear jeans to school," said Jake as he adjusted Garret's tie and collar.
"We're just going to see my mom," complained Garrett. "I could come over in my pyjamas and she'd still be happy to see me."
"Just humour me and wear the tie," said Jake. Garrett sighed loudly and starred at his slumped reflection in the front mirror.
"Forgot to tell you that Ms. Francois called you," said Garrett. He saw the grin Jake was trying to hide.
Ever since Jake had taken him to get a hair cut, Garrett noticed that Jake has had that stupid grin on his face whenever he and Ms. Francois talked.
"Liz called? I'll call her back after we come back from dinner with your mom," said Jake.
"Or you could call her now and 'Liz' will know that pass on phone messages," said Garrett with a grin.
"Grab you coat and let's go," said Jake before he called for his driver to take both Garrett and him from Lower Winchester through Upper Winchester to the Farmer's District, stopping at Kirby Farms where Garrett grew up.
Garrett looked up at Jake and gave him a hug.
"Thanks dad," he said with a small smile, trying to accustom himself to calling Jake by that title.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
Characters: Garret Kirby-Devlin, Jake Devlin, Carmela Kirby
"Do I have to wear this stupid tie Jake?" asked Garret, fidgeting with the blue and black stripped tie around your neck.
"You're lucky I'm allowing you to wear jeans. When I was your age, I couldn't even wear jeans to school," said Jake as he adjusted Garret's tie and collar.
"We're just going to see my mom," complained Garrett. "I could come over in my pyjamas and she'd still be happy to see me."
"Just humour me and wear the tie," said Jake. Garrett sighed loudly and starred at his slumped reflection in the front mirror.
"Forgot to tell you that Ms. Francois called you," said Garrett. He saw the grin Jake was trying to hide.
Ever since Jake had taken him to get a hair cut, Garrett noticed that Jake has had that stupid grin on his face whenever he and Ms. Francois talked.
"Liz called? I'll call her back after we come back from dinner with your mom," said Jake.
"Or you could call her now and 'Liz' will know that pass on phone messages," said Garrett with a grin.
"Grab you coat and let's go," said Jake before he called for his driver to take both Garrett and him from Lower Winchester through Upper Winchester to the Farmer's District, stopping at Kirby Farms where Garrett grew up.
Garrett looked up at Jake and gave him a hug.
"Thanks dad," he said with a small smile, trying to accustom himself to calling Jake by that title.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network
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