Cola Goodness Revisited

This is a rewrite of Cola Goodness...


She's a nut, my partner, Sophie.  Doesn't she know that stuff can burn a hole through a car hood?  Imagine what it's doing to her stomach.  


I sit across from her at McDonald's.  Lunch time.   She already had two cans of Coke this morning - who drinks Coke in the mornings?  Now she is drinking it from a Supersize cup. 


"I'm surprised you don't have holes in your stomach from where the acid is burning.  Or holes in your teeth, " I say, looking pointedly at her drink.

"What?"  She rolls her eyes.  "It's just Coke.  Besides, this is it for me today."

"Okay." I give her a doubtful look.  She makes that empty promise to herself daily.  

"It is!"


*


Two hours later, we walk towards the car on our way back  from viewing a crime scene.  We pass a bodega.  I make a detour towards it.  I could use a KitKat.


"I'm just going to grab something," I say. "You want anything?"


"A Coke."  Of course.  


I raise my eyebrows.  "I thought the Supersize was it for the day." 


She grimaces.  "This is an exception.  That body was gruesome.  Need a pick-me-up"


"Every body is gruesome."


"Thank goodness for Coke," she says and winks. 


I shake my head and walk in. 


*


Two hours later, back at the precinct, we both sit our desks, stumped.  This current case baffles us.  


"Should we just go to the board?" she asks. 


"Yeah," I say. "Maybe that will trigger something."  


We both stand. 


Sophie takes a sip from her lunchtime Supersized Coke cup.  She shakes it.  It's empty.  


"I'll be back," she says.  I look at her, then at her cup. 


"You want anything?  Another Kit-Kat? It'll be your third one today."  She looks at me pointedly. 


I sigh.  Chocolate is not as bad as that carbonated poison.  I throw her a dollar.  


"Yeah, sure."  


She walks towards the vending machine.  


*


It's 11pm and I lay back on my bed.  What a day.  Just got home minutes ago.  Sophie and I needed to call it quits since we weren't making any new progress on the case.  


I sigh  and the taste of chocolate appears on my tongue.  


Aw, what the heck.  


I get off the bed and head into the kitchen to grab a KitKat from my stash up in the cabinet by the sink. 




This piece is inspired by a writing prompt at the Red Dress Club which asks us to go back in the archives of our blog, pick a fiction or nonfiction piece and do a complete overhaul.  

So Not Ready...

School for my older boys starts in little over 2 and a half weeks.  And you know what?  I'm not quite ready for it to start yet.

I talked to a couple of parents yesterday and they and their kiddos are all ready to go back to school, inside I cringe.  

Me, not so much.  I am not that parent.  So not ready.

The oldest is starting 1st Grade and I haven't even began to hype up this very major milestone.  I'm just not ready for school to start yet.

When the back-to-school commercials come on TV, I turn away.

I want to continue with summer, keep the boys home and go out at our leisure.  I like simple schedules where we only have one thing to do a day, if we choose it.

We're on our own time.

And even if it means that I have all three boys with me ALL the time, it still feels better than having to  do the multiple school pickups every day, dealing with the school woes and school dilemmas - all of which can leave my brain scrambled by the end of the day.  

I like sleeping in and having the boys wake up when they are ready.  Even though they still wake up  early, at least it's at their leisure.   No prodding or poking to be awakened.

So yes, I confess, I'm not like most of you parents out there who are about ready for school to begin.

Not me.  No way.

What I am ready for?  

Another long vacation.

A Bride's Lesson Learned...

It was my wedding day.

I was giddy with excitement.

Months of sitting with my wedding planner, Gina, going over wedding details.

Each session ended with Gina asking "Anything else I should know about?"

The caterer?

Transportation?

Music?

Performers?

Check, check, check, and check.

My wedding gown?

The bridesmaids dresses?

Every week, check on both.  I have these last two covered.  My own little special projects.

"You're sure you don't need me to follow-up with anyone?"

"No," I replied.  "I've got it."

"Okay," Gina replied each time as I gave her a confident grin.



So five months later, here I sat, getting prepped along with my bridesmaids on the most special day of my life.

After three hours went by, I was ushered along with my bridesmaids out of the doorway of the apartment we were in.  I noticed one of the bridesmaids, Terry, not dressed.

Another bridesmaid spoke up. "The seamstress is bringing her dress to the church.  She was doing some last minute alterations."

"What?" I began to question, but was whisked out of the apartment quickly.



Half an hour later, at the church, about ten minutes before the wedding,  I stood in front of my bridesmaid, Terry who is all made up and ready to go down the aisle but without a dress.

Tears are in her eyes and I am in shock.

They tried to hide it from me - Terry, the rest of the bridesmaids, Gina, but I noticed.  Of course, I did.  I'm a wedding planner myself -- no detail goes unnoticed.

And yet, one did.

The dress would not make it to the church on time.  Therefore, my bridesmaid would not be walking down the aisle.

My heart dropped.

My best girl whose wedding I would be in, in a couple of months. We bonded the few months over the shared experience of being engaged, of planning a wedding.  In my mind's eye, I had visualized her walking down the aisle as one of my bridesmaids.

It was not to be.

So I cried, much to the chagrin of my make-up artist.



Gina said to me a couple of months later, "You know, you should have let me follow-up on the bridesmaids dresses.   That's what I was there for."

Of course, I should have.  Being a wedding planner myself, I knew.  But in my bridal pride, I didn't.

Lesson learned.


*The names have been changed to protect the innocent. 

This piece was inspired by a memoir prompt at The Red Dress Club which asked us to write a post that either starts or ends with the words "Lesson learned."

The New

It's a Monday morning and I'm watching my 16 month old baby toddle around the house.  He just started walking about three weeks ago, and you can tell from the joy on his face that he likes this new method of transportation.

His hazel eyes are wide in excitement, his pouty mouth open and smiling.

I opened the front door five minutes ago to put out the trash and he caught a glimpse of outside.

His eyes went wide and that mouth opened in a smile as he toddled his way towards the front door, taking those baby steps.

New.

That expression, this joy, has been appearing when he sees or experiences something new, which has been alot lately.

He sits forward facing now in the car, since our California trip of a few weeks ago, and I can't count how many times I looked back and found him staring out of the window, eyes wide.   We went through 4 states and as majestic as the landscape was (there were moments of pause by The Husband and I), the four older people in the family didn't really see it.   The Daddy was mostly focused on driving and I was trying to get some reading in and the two older brothers were busy chatting and bickering so we four missed huge parts of the landscape entirely.

But to the 16 month old it was all wonderful and New.   And he took it all in.


Caught up in the dailyness of life, I forget the New.  I forget to look at the world around me and marvel in the things that make it up - the trees, huge buses, mountains, huge passenger trains.

Lately, only the ocean and majestic mountain views make me stop.  But there's so much more in life...

...the little ant crawling into his hole, catching baseballs in the front yard, digging in mud in the backyard...

These things above are actually New to the 6 year old and 4 year old as well.

Which makes me realize how much I need to find the New in this Dailyness of Life that causes my face to frown often, whether in concentration or frustration or worry.

I need the wide eyes of excitement and mouth open in big smile.

It seems like a good place to be.

Memory

This is the continuation of Alex and Kayla's story.  It picks up from when we last saw them in Life. 


The glistening blue-green waves made huge arcs and crashed against the shore releasing bubbly whitish foam.  Repeatedly.

Kayla's backdrop, as she stood, relaxed and graceful, wrapped in white, her black Canon Rebel XS in her hand.  She rested it on her shoulder, leaning her cheek against the lens that pointed towards him.

Portrait perfect. His Kayla.  A musician becoming photographer.

Her beautiful skin shone smooth milk chocolate.  Her brown eyes gazed lovingly at him.  A light wind lifted a lock of light brown hair and held it still in the air for a moment before releasing.

Her soft, flowy top fluttered around her like fragile butterfly wings.  Boho chic.  She held his gazed as she straightened up.

"Okay, Sir Hotness.  Strike a pose."

He was her subject while she dabbled in this new love.   The only one allowed to photograph him free of charge, much to his manager's chagrin.

He blushed and stood tall, posturing in fake sexiness.

"I've got 5 minutes, lady and then I'm needed back on set," he growled, a smile on his face.

Her laughter echoed through him, sending waves of pleasure.

Standing tall as a sentinel, she aimed her black Canon at him, one brown hand adjusting the lens.

"One of People's top 50 Sexiest Men.  Watch out."

Her smile, crooked sexy.  His heart melted.

She faded.



Alex opened his eyes and slowly turned his head, which still laid on Kayla's hand.

Reality - he thought as Kayla laid in the hospital bed.

She was still in the coma.  She looked peaceful - her eyes still closed.    It'd been two weeks since he heard her voice.    The doctors were still unsure but hopeful.  His agent was pressuring him to return to work.  He needed too.  He was under contract.  But he couldn't leave her.

Not yet.

Tears pushed forth from behind his eyes.  Stinging liquid down his cheeks.

He kissed her hand softly and laid his head down on it again.  He closed his eyes, reaching again for that memory.

For that comfort.

This piece is inspired by a prompt from The Red Dress Club which asks to write a short fiction or non-fiction piece inspired by any or all of the photo above. Word limit: 400 words

Concrit welcomed. 

  

These "Shoe" Things...

These things.

They are flat, with a spongy bottom,  round at the top, straight at the sides, and round again at the bottom.  They have black and white stripes on them, with a strap at the top, in the middle of each shoe to slip my Big Toe and that next toe around it.

The Daddy calls them "shoes".   Big Brother calls them "flip flops".

I hated them when The Parents first bought them for me.

"Your first official walking pair!" The Momma announced happily.

I wasn't happy.

These things were heavy.

Made me wobble when The Momma planted me on the flat place I like to walk on.  They went into each other and I tipped and fell over.  Hit my head.

They trapped my feet and kept them from going anywhere.  There's a strap on each of these things that wraps around the back of my feet to keep them in.  Stops me from pulling them off and throwing them at The Momma's head.

Bummer.




Now we're on this big road trip and The Momma puts these "shoes" on me each time we stop to take a break.

So painful.

But I don't like being in my car seat too long.  That's very painful.

And these "shoes"...

They are my way out of the car.  The Momma won't let me walk on the flat places without them.   So if I don't fight her when she puts them on me, I can get out of the car.

Yeah!



The Momma is pulling me from the big car.  Yes! Yes! Yes!

She carries me to the flat place in the bright sunshine, my "shoe" things knocking against her legs.  I wiggle my legs hard.  I want down.  To put my feet and these things on that flat place.

Love the flat places.  These "shoe" things grip my feet like gloves as I walk on the flat places.  My toes settle into the pressed-in spots that my toes have been making since The Momma put them on me at the start of this trip.

She puts me down and my legs move, and my feet move and the "shoe" things move with my feet.

Not so heavy anymore as I step from side to side, making wide arcs with them.   Their spongy bottom cushions my feet from the hard blows of my stomping.

They keep me steady as I learn to use these feet.

These feet.  That's another story.


But not so bad.  These "shoes".

This piece is inspired by a prompt from The Red Dress Club that asked you to write about a character and his/her shoes.  The above-mentioned character is my darling 16 month old son.   If he could write, this is what he would share.  He's getting used to those oval things with the back straps thanks to our recent road trip to California. 


Concrit welcomed. 

Rockin' The Baby Pics!

So I'm Rockin' the Baby along with Shell over at Things I Can't Say...and I must say, my heart is melting as I post these pics...

This is the oldest at 3 days old lying on a king-size pillow that was way bigger than him. 

The middle son at 3 weeks old lounging on a hotel bed wearing a onesie to encourage his Daddy. 

The 3rd and youngest cheesing it up for the camera at 4 months old.  

Yes, he is wearing the same onesie his big bro is sporting in the above pic - 2 and 1/2 years later, of course.   We love encouraging the Daddy.

Ahhh...baby love.  About to hop over to check out some other baby pics.  If the love continues to grow, I think I'm going to be in trouble.  Will I end up tapping the Hubby's shoulder?  Baby #4?

It's A Vacation...

California.

So we're here...

which is kind of distracting me from my blogging moments.  Well, not entirely, as I am sneaking in a few moments to write.

 But it's a vacation, right?  And who could resist time with these little faces?

Though in moments, with the noise level, it seems like the Husband's and I's ears are going to explode.  And the several meltdowns can be overwhelming in moments...



But California, here we are, after all the waiting...

Time exclusively with just the Husband/Daddy all day is precious...

and time hanging on the beach is the coolest...

Not to mention baby's first waves...

Priceless.


So far, so good...