I had absolutely every intention of going to the gym today but now I feel nasely & my tummy is upset and I ate my weight in diner food. I'm sure that none of those three things are connected at all, in any way. And I will argue with anyone who says they are. To the death.
I'm going to keep trying to convince myself that working out will make me feel better and maybe, hopefully I will go later today. But I have been somewhat productive today.
A. I went to church and we held our Search / 4th Day Traveling Road show and hopefully got a few more people interested in possibly attending retreat come January.
II. I caught up with friends I hadn't seen since, well last weekend, but we were at another service last weekend so there was a whole lot of time for chit chat, but today we hit up the diner.
3. I've cleaned my room, vacuum and all.
Have we ever talked about how much I abhore vacuuming? (is abhore spelled with an 'a' or an 'o' - ehh no biggie) And that I work at a golf club. So yeah I get my fair share of vacuuming. Uggg it makes me shiver just thinking about it. I don't know where this hatred came from but I cannot stand it. Blerg.
I have a few other things in store for today. I would like to sit down and write some more. I'd like to finish Lion's Lady so that I can move on with my life. This book is fairly ridiculous, but I guess you don't pick up a book with a boobaliscious woman on the cover thinking you're going to be reading Pulitzer Prize winning material.
I went to Barnes & Noble yesterday, which I shouldn't be allowed in that place because I just want to wander around and buy a book in every other aisle. And considering I just purchase 5 kinky romance novels for $.25 last weekend, I don't have room for anymore books in my life. And the sad thing is I have a bunch of books with depth in them surrounding me. I'm hoping to alternate back and forth.
Anyway I popped in to get my hands on The Hunger Games which has now been recommended to me like 5 times so I decided to not even try the lib as I'm sure it would be out. It was only $10 which is pretty cheap, sad to say. I'm going to start that after Lion's Lady. I know, don't you want me to finish it now too? I know I'm done with Rowena and her bull. (that's the name of Lion's Lady)
I hope everyone is having an excelletante Sunday. And that this post has added something to it. If only a hate for vaccuuming, a love for romance novels or new adoration for the name Rowena.
Last night I got all dolled up and went out with my friends. We pregamed and put on little dresses and fixed our hair & makeup while sweating in the mirror just because we wanted to do it together. It was crazy fun. We went out, we danced, we were merry.
It was meant to be a crazy night out with the girls & it was.
But on our way home we encounted a 8 out of 10 douchebag who kind of ruined the night for me. Because now whenever I think of it, I'll think about being told to "hit the treadmill and come back and talk to me."
You get dressed up. You think about how cute you look and even though you're not on a mission to find Mr. Right, you could find Mr. Right Now & you've dressed the part to do so. You wear your one shouldered dress, do your hair all sexy and slip on those metallic sandals. Even though you know you're not the stick figure that many of these other girls are, you've worked hard for this body, so you're going to rock it.
But when you get called fat, 10 years slips away and you're that 16 year old girl again without any self esteem. The 15 pounds that you've work so hard to lose over the last 8 months is completely meaningless and you find yourself crying outside of Cluck-U. Knowing that if you don't eat something, you're going to get sick, but if you do eat something you're prooving that asshole right.
I wish I had thought quick on my feet. I wish I had a better comback than "F*** you, bastard!"
It happened like this...
We were walking home, on our way to stop by Cluck-U to be sure that none of us vommed. As we passed The Grasshopper the douche tried to talk to us. Asking us to stop. So I just say, kindly "make it quick, we're going home." and he said "I was wondering where you girls were going." so I responded "We're going home, have a good night." And that's when he responded with "hit the treadmill and come back and talk to me."
Now the better responses I could have had are...
"I see that your charm has helped you to get lots of chicks as you're catcalling on a street corner."
"I prefer the eliptical or kickboxing, but thanks for the recommendation."
"thanks for confirming how much a douche you are."
"Oooo please let me loose 50 pounds and come running back to your busted ass."
and so on. but instead.
"F*** you, bastard."
Because like I said, when I heard those words I became 16 again. I was getting harassed in the hallways. I was getting told that the reason I wasn't elected class president was because no one wanted to see me roll onto the stage. I wasn't getting asked to dances. I was being laughed at during talent shows. Gone were 10 whole years of becoming a better stronger me, who doesn't care what people think. I retreated back into a person that I fought tooth and nail to get away from.
And that happens every time someone calls me fat. It means barely anything to you & everything to me.
Can they smell that fear? Is that why they pull the most viscious punch? Do they know?
Do they know the best and fastest way to break me?
I'll be ok. I'll be fine. I'll get over this and be stronger and move on with my life. I'll wake up tomorrow and the mini-depression that's set in today will be gone. I'll eat better & work out tomorrow. I'll get back on track... tomorrow. But today I'm going to wallow. Today I'm allowed to wallow because my heart got a little broken last night.
Essentially, that guys is nothing to me. But he ruined my night. And in Jersey, we find that unforgivable.
When I was about 3 my mother cut my hair in a mullet.
There's proof in the form of a photo on my grandmother's wall in Ocean City, New Jersey. I'll steal it next time if you don't believe me.
But my mother, sweet angel that she is, claims that there is no way that she would have done it and the only reason it could possibly be that bad is that I must have cut it myself. And she then, had to fix it.
Great, you're letting your 3 year old run around with scissors????
Other great stories from my youth include the fact that I loooooved to pee under our deck. Love love loved it! (peeing outside is still a great past time of mine) Well apparently one time my mother couldn't find me (again, excellent parenting) and when she walked out on the deck she just knew. So she yelled my name. having little to no depth perception, I stood up and to this day blame the perma-bump on my head on her. Thanks mom, now I can never shave my head like what's her name in Empire Records.
Shock me! Shock me! Shock me! with that devient behavior!
There were a lot of other utterly ridiculous things that I could blame on my mother. But really what I think when I look back is "how did she survive that?"
And little did she know that she'd be stuck with this. A 27 year old daughter who still climbs into bed with her and talks with a baby voice "what are you doing Mommy??!! what are you dooooooing!!!???"
There's an absolutely fantastic photo of, somewhere in the McCrostie family archives, recently dug up by Mrs. Mac, where my charming little face has a semi-automatic rifle in her mouth. It's a water gun. But the little orange marker on the end isn't showing, because, it is, in my mouth.
My grandmother saw this & insisted it be thrown away. I saved it. Because it's AMAAAZING. Brilliant.
And to that I say, I'm sorry mom. You should have known then what trouble I would be...
So we're back at it & here are 2 more chapters. A little more sizzle for your summa read!
Back to job searching! I love ya honey I love ya!
Dockside
By: Janice McCrostie
Chapter 11
There was an early summer chill in the air but the bleachers were still filled with shorts and t-shirts. Maeve couldn’t help but realize that the two of them stuck out like soar thumbs in their blue jeans and sweatshirts. She wrapped her arms around her knees and cozied up to her sister just as Clare let out a holler when Jackson got a base hit.
“Yay!” Maeve shouted, then crinkled up her face in disgust. “Why do girls always sound like such idiots cheering for sports.”
“Speak for yourself; do you think they have hot chocolate over there?” Clare gestured toward the makeshift stand set up by the PTA.
“No.” Maeve laughed. “Whoa!”
“What? Good play?”Clare came back from her chocolate dreams. “Oh.”
Maeve was staring at one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. He looked like one of the men she had moved up here to escape, dressed impeccably, hair perfectly cut in golden locks and a smile that could cut through any cold demeanor.
“Oh? You know him.”
“Yeah we go way back, that’s the guy I was telling you about.” He stopped in front of them at the foot of the bleachers, never taking his eyes off of Clare. His face questioned her and she gestured for him to come up.
As he wormed his way up through the crowd Maeve tried to get a quick answer from her sister.
“Huh?” There had been a few.
“When I was taking pictures a few weeks ago.”
“Oh!” He was getting closer and Maeve nudged a little further.
“We got it on in the Saturn.”
“Oh.” A grin spread across her face and she felt the sudden pang of jealousy. There, making his way up the bleachers was Clare’s ability to be completely impulsive. And her bad habit was gorgeous and the complete opposite of someone she would picture her sister going for.
Keaten leaned over to discipline the two. “Excuse me ladies, I’m trying to watch a ball game.”
“Sorry.” Maeve giggled.
“Cold?”
“A bit.” He curved his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She didn’t like it, what if Jackson saw? What if it made him upset?
“Hey there,” she heard her sister say to the hottie, lack luster.
“Hello,” he responded and bent down to kiss Clare’s cheek.
“This is my sister, Maeve, and that’s Keaten. Guys this is Jasper Clay.”
“Hi, how are you?” He leaned over Clare and extended his hand to both of them.
Jasper Clay had, amongst his other attributes, a great handshake. Maeve was also grateful because Keaten had to take his arm from around her to be polite.
“My grandmother and her boy toy are over watching by the fence.”
“Clare.” Maeve gave a warning tone.
He sat down comfortably next to Clare and the two immediately began bickering like an old married couple. Maeve pretended to watch the game but eavesdropped instead.
“I don’t remember inviting you.”
“So we’re back to this?”
“I just thought we were meeting after.”
“Sorry your plan did pan out, but I wasn’t going to wait around all night to see you.”
Maeve could tell this one threw Clare off a bit because she didn’t have an immediate rebuttal.
“Did you bring the wine?”
“Bought it on my way over.”
“Good, go get it I’m cold.”
“I’m not going to bring a bottle of wine to an elementary school baseball game. Unless you would like me to get arrested?”
“Could have its benefits.”
About this time Maeve legitimately tuned out as Jackson was up to bat again. The score was tied in the fifth and before she knew it she found herself yelling out above the crowd.
“Go Jackson!” Keaten looked over at her as she beamed down at the field. Jackson turned from the mound, at first his face was confused by the female voice that had called his name, then finding his dad he waved with a big smile. His gaze shifted a bit to Maeve and his smile faded a bit, still he gave another wave, than brightened again when he saw Clare.
This hurt, but part of her understood. Clare was younger and hipper. When he looked at Maeve he only saw an uptight woman who was desperately trying to get him to like her, all the while stealing his father’s attention. She would have hated that person too.
The pitcher wound up and threw a strike. She heard Keaten mutter something under his breath and instinctively reached for his hand. They gripped each other tightly as Jackson settled into his stance again.
“Damnit!” Clare yelled out and Maeve turned towards her. Jasper’s hand was possessively on her sisters thigh, but it was more to make a point to Clare then to anything else. He affectionately ran his thumb over her knee.
Just as she turned back to the game Jackson hit the homerun he’d been talking about last week. Straight shot right out of the park!
Clare screamed and leapt straight into the air, then proceeded to turn and kiss Jasper right on the lips. Maeve smiled over at her sister, one minute she can’t stand him the next she can’t stay away, truly crazy. She felt a tug on her arm and turned towards Keaten, he was glowing with pride. Pride that he wanted to share with her, he wrapped his arms around her in a big bear hug.
That wave of family came over Maeve again, but it felt wrong. Thinking about the way Jackson had looked at her, all he’d been through. This would never fit because he rightfully doesn’t want to trust her. Again Maeve had to pay for the sins of others.
She went to pull away but he held her in place just a second longer. Just before they separated he brushed a kiss along her forehead that sent heat pulsing through her.
“Games almost over, so you won’t have to freeze much longer.”
“Not going to be a problem.”
Clare tried to slip her hand out of Jasper’s as they walked towards his car. How it had even got there she didn’t know. He was annoying her and she wanted him to go away. But at the same time she liked how he annoyed her, the way that he touched her with affection, as if he’d been doing it since they were teenagers.
It was weird though, Clare knew she couldn’t trust it. Suave men like this were just assholes trying to conquer something. All his affection was for shit when you knew it was just to get into your pants. But that’s what she wanted, so she let him play his game.
The three of them joined Gram and Mike as they waited for Keaten to grab Jackson from the dugout. Great, Clare thought, another awkward introduction.
“Gram, Mike, this is Jasper. I can’t seem to shake him.”
“Jasper.” Mike shook his hand like a father would, holding on a little bit longer and tighter then needed.
“Down boy.” Gram took Jaspers hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” He seemed to glow with the refined upper class that won most people over. Clare giggled to herself knowing that it would never work on her grandmother.
Maeve had fallen quiet, her eyes set on something near the dugout. Clare looked and wasn’t surprised by what she saw.
A woman about his age wearing very little clothing was draped delicately around Keaten as he stood waiting for his son. That wasn’t the upsetting part; the thing that was bothersome is that he didn’t seem to care. He was laughing and smiling right along as if she was the funniest thing that had ever happened. Acting like her sister wasn’t forty feet away talking to her future father in law.
Jasper must have felt her tense up, so he followed her gaze. His demeanor changed slightly as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Go get ‘em.” He whispered in her ear.
Clare looked up at him, how had he known? Why was he egging her on? She snapped back out of it and looked to her sister. Maeve was pretending to listen to Mike and Grams conversation on the game, but it was obvious to Clare that she had other things on her mind.
Clare pushed off from Jasper and started towards the fence. She heard a muttered objection from Maeve, but just kept on walking having no idea what she was going to do. The only thought that was running through her head was how pissed she was that he had played her, so that’s what she led off with.
“Wow, Mr. McGuire I have to admit you had me completely fooled.”
Keaten looked stunned and the woman leaned back slightly, as if ready to pounce.
“Introduced me to your friend,” Clare continued, not yet prepared to give up head of the conversation. She watched his eyes train on Maeve; he’d obviously noticed the reasoning behind this assault. She knew when he had caught her sister’s eye because his shocked face turned suddenly sullen.
“Clare, this is Sandra. Her son Adam is on the team with Jackson.”
“Great to meet you, Sandra. Wasn’t that just the game of the century?”
“It was alright.” Sandra wasn’t buying it and Clare couldn’t have been happier.
“Are you kidding me!” She put on her greatest impression of an annoying teenager. “That game was incredible! Jackson hitting that homer! He is just a true athlete. How was your son’s game?”
“Good.” Sandra looked up to Keaten with frustration, as if waiting for him to shoo the obnoxious youngster away. When he wouldn’t even make eye contact with her she continued, “Adam had a few base hits.”
“They were good ones,” Keaten put in.
“Oh I didn’t notice.” Clare looked over her new friend towards the field. “Jackson!!!”
She ran over to the boy, who glowed as her ran into her arms. They stood about 10 feet from the “adults” and chatted. Jackson introduced her to Adam, who seemed just as enamored with her presence as he was. Clare exclaimed to him how phenomenal his game was and even poked at Adam for his great base hits, all the while keeping an ear open.
“Who the fuck is that Keaten?” Sandra hissed.
“An old friend.”
“You mean an old bitch.” He stiffened but didn’t defend her. Clare didn’t mind, that’s what she was going for. “Can I see you tonight?”
“No.” She couldn’t tell if he knew she was listening or not. She stole a look up and saw him watching Maeve. “We’re not starting that up again.”
“Oh. I can see that you’re… distracted. Come on, Adam.” Sandra grabbed the boy by the arm and stalked off.
“Jackson, your Gramps is waiting to love on you.” He ran off towards the car and Mike caught him in a huge bear hug.
Clare turned on Keaten and glared up at him, “You’re a shit McGuire. At least you could have looked like you weren’t enjoying it so much.”
She walked back towards Jasper, but locked eyes with Maeve who looked oddly relieved by her sisters display.
“I believe you have a bottle of wine for me, Clay?”
“Absolutely.” The two walked off towards his car. Mike hollered a goodbye after them but neither of them were paying much attention.
Maeve stood quietly next to the truck as Gram hugged Jackson and whispered with Mike.
“Do you mind if I ride back home with Mike?”
A smile escaped Maeve’s lips, “Go ahead, but no sleepovers young lady.”
Gram cracked up at her granddaughter’s new sense of humor, it really was a hoot. She gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked off laughing.
“Bye Jackson.” Maeve called through the window of the truck. He muttered a something that sounded like he was half asleep. She nodded at Keaten and walked away.
“Maeve.” She wasn’t surprised by the rustle of gravel that meant he was following her, so she picked up the pace. “Maeve.” This time he said it with more force and frustration.
She was so annoyed, with herself more then Keaten. He didn’t need to answer to her, she was nothing to him. Obviously.
“Maeve!” They were at her car now and there was no where else for her to go so she turned on him.
“Hi.”
“She’s just a friend. I mean there was a time but there’s nothing there, our boys play sports together is all.” He seemed really pathetic.
“Ok. That’s really nice of you to share Keaten but you really don’t owe me anything. We’re friends.”
“Friends.” He said it flatly like he didn’t want to believe it.
“Yup, friends, I mean what else could we be?” She watched him with recognition. Maeve knew what she was doing, she was protecting herself. After tonight she realized that he was the catch of the island, no pun intended, and being with him would always be like that. Maeve would never be the type of girl to fight for someone’s attention; it was something she refused to do.
“Goodnight.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, lingering a little bit and making her warm up.
She climbed into her car without saying another word. If she was going to cry, which she wasn’t sure about just yet, she wasn’t about to let him see.
Chapter 12
Jasper kept his eyes on the road for the majority of the ride, only looking over at Clare once or twice to make sure she was still breathing. She wasn’t really in the car though, her mind was wondering to a hundred different places, settling on Keaten McGuire and what a slime he was. And every time it did she let out a frustrated grunt and rubbed the tension out of her eyes.
“You made him feel like crap.”
“Mission accomplished.” She rolled down the window to let some air in; it was suddenly feeling extremely hot.
“He definitely learned his lesson.”
“Yes.” She noticed for the first time where he was headed, he pulled up to the same beach they had been on the week before. “Oh, memories!” she said in a mocking tone.
“I thought you’d like it.” A smirk spread across his face as he put the car into park. “Wine?”
“Yes.”
Jasper climbed out of the Range Rover, walked around and popped the hatchback. A few minutes went by before she turned in her seat to find him sitting in the trunk, pouring a red into two glasses.
“Coming?” He asked, without turning towards her.
Clare climbed out of the car, not having the energy to fight with him. Her mind was entirely on that tall glass of deep red that she was planning on gulping down. A little buzz would clear her mind. She hopped onto the bumper and pushed herself inside the back, folding her legs she turned towards him.
He handed her a glass and held his own up to her.
“To good sex,” she said and tapped her glass to his.
He almost spit his wine out, but caught it just in time. By now he shouldn’t have been so caught off guard by the ridiculous things she said. He rallied himself…
“We’ll see.” He watched her take a long sip of her wine then turned towards the water.
They sat like that for a while, the water being the perfect distraction. It was low tide and the waves rapped against the shore, whipping the seaweed around. The moon was bright enough that she could make out the shapes that the white foam left on the rocks. The waves contoured to fit the rocks instead of change them, slowly wearing them down, creating the sand. A happy medium between the water and the boulder. Why couldn’t life be that easy? Why couldn’t things just meld together and fall into place as easily as when the ocean met the shore?
“What are you thinking right now?”
“Nothing interesting.”
“I’m sure I’d disagree.” He picked up a blanket and handed it to her; she draped it over her legs and looked over at him. The way he watched her should have been unsettling but it wasn’t, it was comfortable. This bothered her.
“Where are you from?” she asked. If she knew more about him maybe she could understand more.
“Chicago.”
“Where did you go to school?”
“Northwestern for undergrad and New YorkUniversity for my Masters and Doctorate”
“Oooo a doctor. How old are you?”
“Thirty-six. And you Clare?”
“You should never ask a lady her age.”
“No, where did you go to school?”
“Ironically enough I went to NYU.”
“For photography?”
“For photography.”
The wind picked up and Clare tugged her legs tighter to her chest. It wasn’t much but now that she had some more information on him, it made the whole situation a little less odd. The wine and the company had taken her mind off the evening’s festivities and she could feel herself relaxing. What was it about this man that had her entire body switching objectives? They sat and talked, letting the night get away from them. There were times when things came out of her mouth that she had had no intention of sharing and when the subject slowly maneuvered its way to her parents, her mother, Clare realized that there needed to be a change of topic. She set her glass down and turned to fuss with the backseat, she knew it had to lie down somehow. You pay this much for a vehicle then the seats lay down so you can move things. Or maybe they don’t because you pay people to move them.
Before she could turn to ask for assistance he was over her, adjusting the seat down to make extra room. Clare turned towards him and was pinned, one arm on either side. She suddenly felt hot and wanted her sweat shirt off. But was that the weather, the wine, or the want to be closer to him? Taking a labored breath she reached for the hem of her sweatshirt.
Jasper leaned off, and helped Clare pull off the heavy layer.
“Hot,” she explained.
“Yeah.” He moved some bleached hair out of her face and began kissing her.
It was delicate and calm and everything she didn’t know that she’d been missing. Clare found herself grabbing at him, but not in the way she had before. This time it was because she needed him, she needed him to be near her in any way possible. It was like if she was with him then nothing else mattered. When she was with him she wasn’t the joke that she was with everyone else. It was as if he gave her substance, as if he saw something that everyone else had missed. She felt something wet on her face and realized that she was crying. Jasper noticed it too and pulled away.
“Clare…”
“Just don’t stop.”
He kissed her once on the forehead, then on her cheek, working his way back to her lips Jasper broke his promise. There was a date and there was an expensive bottle of wine, but they were in a car. Just not a purple Saturn.
The next morning Maeve woke to the sun shining through her window .What times was it? Rolling over she caught a glimpse of her alarm clock, .
“Ugh.” She grunted and threw the covers back over her head. It was just a little over a month ago that she was up at every morning. Her agenda always the same; wake up, go for a run, coffee, shower, coffee, work. Now that she’d quit her running, the pudge was beginning to come back and she was even starting to rethink the importance of showers. Was she slipping into depression?No, because she was happy at a job she enjoyed, working to live, not living to work. It wasn’t depression she realized, it was living.
She kicked the sheets off, that doesn’t mean she had to completely stop being healthy. Within minutes she was sitting on the edge of her bed tying her sneakers. There was a rap at the door and as it swung open to reveal Clare with last night’s sweatshirt and jeans, looking completely satisfied.
“Oh.” And Maeve burst out laughing.
“House rule number 3, honesty.”
“I’m fairly certain you don’t have to beg me to listen to this story.”
“No shit.” Clare sat next to her sister and began unraveling the tale. Starting with a quick apology she knew she didn’t have to make regarding Keaten.She tried to explain the way that Jasper made her feel but couldn’t quite find the right words.
“It’s crazy because I don’t know him, but I feel like I do know him. You know? It’s just wild. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No. But I’m going for a run.”
“Good because he’s in the shower and I’m about to go join him.”
“Clare!” Maeve threw a pillow at her sister. “House rule # 7 no sleepovers without roommate approval!”
“Well we didn’t sleep here so it doesn’t count as an actual ‘sleep over’.” and she was gone out the door.
Maeve giggled her way out to the porch and began stretching. She really was jealous of her sister’s ability to be so free and trusting. It seemed so simple for her to just fall into rhythm with someone new, it must be nice.
Setting out along the road she began to think about it. What would it be like, Maeve wondered, to give yourself over to impulse rather than dissecting every tiny detail. What would her impulse be right now, if she answered it? It would be to follow the contours of the island road the five plus miles it would take her to Keaten’s door and then she would act out the romance novel she snuck home the night before. Then once they woke up she would tell him that even though it scared the living crap out of her, he needed to know that she’s always carried him with her and now she planned on acting on it. That she knew it wouldn’t be simple, but she wanted to try and make it work with him. That she wanted to start to build a family with him, that she was willing to settle on this tiny island with him and make a life.
If Maeve could answer to her impulse, then she wouldn’t have to carry her need for him around with her, not knowing where he stood on the matter.
She padded along the pavement, wondering what his face would look like if she really did drop the love bomb on him. After how she’d acted last night, he would probably be livid at first. But if she could work without inhibitions it wouldn’t matter because she would get him into bed before he had time to think about her 180 degree opinion.
Why hadn’t she just done exactly what she wanted to last night? Why couldn’t she have just slapped him across the face? Told him to stay away from her, with all his forehead kisses and arms wrapped tightly around her shoulder. Why did he have to do those things? And why did she have to like them so much?
Her feet pounded against the asphalt as the frustration boiled up. Maeve worked to keep things simple in her life. After Sam had ended things with her, she settled into life as if she were that married housewife. Her friends got her out a few times, tried to get her to meet people but she wasn’t interested. Life was just simpler when her heart wasn’t involved.
If she didn’t give herself the option of falling in love, then it wasn’t going to mess up the flow she’d created. But then Clare had sprung the Maine idea on her and she just went for it. Why? She was comfortable with becoming a cat lady, why did she change that?
Because it hurt. Every time she was sitting at home in her PJs she cried during favorite movies and books where the characters fell deeply in love with passion that was unshakeable. That was the life she wanted to lead and that was the life she kept locked out. Until a month ago.
A truck drove by and honked, bringing Maeve back to the present and scaring her right off the road into the brush.
“Damnit!” She looked down at her hands, “nice” small drops of blood dribbled down her wrists. Well, some things hadn’t changed in her life; she was still a complete klutz.
ok, so I'm going to comment on something that may make me sound extremely self centered. but that's how I roll.
people stare at me. a lot. like i'm a rockstar or something.
or maybe they busted me picking my nose.
one of the two.
Like today at kickboxing the people across from me, cute almost balding guy and chick wearing super short shorts kept looking at me. I didn't have a boggie hanging out of my nose. my cooch wasn't showing. maybe they noticed my makeup from last night? is that what caused their stares?
I don't know. I don't get it. But I don't hate it. I kind of like feeling like a celebrity. Like they can't keep their eyes off my jacked up hair and curvatious bod... It happens enough that I notice it, at the grocery store or the movie theatre and a lot of times at the gym. Which make me laugh cause my tatas are always completely covered unlike so many other ladies at the gym.
anyway. does anyone else have this problem? does any one else feel loads of eyes on them? does anyone else feel like a totaly celebrity?
So now on my bed stand sits Lion's Lady, a rolicking tale of a young Scottish Lass who is left betrayed & preggo my ego by the love of her life Lion Sutherland. Of course shenanigans ensue. The other book which comes with me to the gym because I am to embarassed to bring the above is My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler. I'm working my way through all of her books starting with ths one. You got me as to why taking a book about one night stands to the gym is acceptable while a busty lady with a sword on the cover makes me blush. Try to psyschoanalyse me, I dare you.
Anyway before these two & during my family vacation I decided on reading something with some more depth, something that I wouldn't feel like I needed to hide from my family. So I read Kathryn Stockett's "The Help."
It was one of the most incredible pieces of literature that I have ever read.
The story is told through three perspectives. Skeeter, a young white recent college graduate, longing to be an author, Aibileen, a 50 something maid dealing with the loss of her only child and Minny, also a maid, but dealing with raising many children and keeping an abusive husband.
Stockett is a white woman form Mississippi. Stockett is as white as they come with her blonde hair. And she even says in her "statement" at the end of the novel that she in no way claims to understand on any level what black women went through during the 1960's in Mississippi. And for that reason she was nervous to write the book. But boy, am I glad she did.
It's almost as if a different author wrote each chapter, that is how distinctive the voices are. Throughout the novel you can feel the paranoia of these woman, who are doing something that could essentially end their lives. And in each woman there is a seperate and endearing pain bundled in with that paranoia. There were times in the novel when I, a white woman living in 2011, felt like I needed to check the locks and peak outside.
But there are so many more moments when I would chuckle & think "Damn I wish I could hang out with Minny, she's so funny!" or "If I were around I'd call Skeeter up for some tennis." and best of all "When the f*** is Hilly going to get what she has coming!!!!"
The story in itself, which centers around these three woman finaly telling the truth about the appauling behavior of whites in the south at this time, is hopeful & shocking. It broke my heart & offended me that this was the life too many people lived in the 1960s. I can't say much more because I want you to go out and get this book and experience it yourself. There you go... fly fly. read this book.
I am sorry I didn't post last week. I was away with the entire Italian side of my family and the one time I was inspired to write and spent more than 20 minutes in front of my computer I got so much slack from it. But I'm back now and am back on the work out track... O-fficially. Hopefully.
It's funny bc when you're paying enough attention you can feel your body getting bigger again.
But of course that didn't stop me from wearing my bikini the very last day of vacation. It had half to do with me not giving a flying f*** and half to do with my other bathing suit tops being wet. My flubby-ness is not half as bad as some other flubby-ness. So I felt no regret. If anything, I wish I had been brave enough to do it earlier in the week so that my under boob belly was as tan as the rest of my belly.
This is some riveting literature right now.
Anyway, the week was spent like this... family, reading, beaching, drinking, eating. rinse. repeat.
I did however read The Help. The movie comes out next month & I cannot wait. This book was incredibubs & tomorrow I will review it.
Today we had our first Seach / 4th Day traveling road show at Cedar Cliff UMC and it went well. There were 4 potential candidates for this years retreat & I think my talk may have impacted some of them. Hopefully. The one girl I thought would enjoy my chubbet tales kept checking her cell phone. And since the whole point was to show them how coooooool us Christians can be, I didn't think getting out my teacher voice would be productive. haha.
Next Sunday we will be at my home church of Mount Tabor UMC & anyone who is interesting in learning more about my & others faith journey is soooo welcome to come out. What's one early morning if it has the potential to change your life???
Shout out for a question for Weds, if anyone is even out there anymore. hello... is Rhonda there???
Have I ever told any of you about my friend Liz? If not, please remind me to do so because she is AMAAAAZing.
If you haven't read the books or have no clue what happens & have yet to see it... I suggest you turn back now. I'm playing fast & loose with the details. (As I re-read it though there really aren't any spoilers, I just like the term fast & loose so I'm keeping it)
First, it needs to be shared that a legit Dark Mark shaped cloud floated over head as we waited outside the movie theatre. It was surreal. We all tried to get pictures but it just wasn't an option, so you'll just have to take the word of me & about 500 other adoring Harry Potter Fans. Ok maybe only like 100 because it was probably only from our one angle that you could see it but it was definitely there.
So the movies starts and David Yates waists no time diving right in. Though I'm still digesting a lot of the film, this is one thing I regret. It starts almost to quickly & doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath.
Which is probably why, approximately 45 minutes in, I, Janice McCrostie, 27 year old woman (ehhh woman is a relative term & I guess age is just a number) starting having a full on panic attack. Couldn't breathe, tears trying to get out, sister having to tell me to take deep breaths panic attack. When did this happen? When they started to barricade the castle. Why did this happen? The only reason I can think of as to why I reacted so strongly because I wasn't ready. That's sounds ridiculous and dorky. But it happened & you can judge me if you want.
After that it takes off and it's easy to hold on. The entire film is extremely exciting and intense. Super intense, crazy intense. I can't use the word intense enough.
The only other beef I had is in the commercials so no one can get to made at me. I really don't know what was up with Harry & Voldy's flight pattern at the end. I guess it held some cool moments & the points at the end were meant to drag out the whole and bring it to a crescendo, but I guess I just have an affinity to the original ending of the book.
Ok so on to the acting, which I thought was incredible.
There are no words for Maggie Smith. She's just absolutely fantastic & if you pay the $11 for her scenes alone it's worth the money.
The same can be said for Alan Rickman. I was concerned with the particular happenings of this particular character. It's not that I didn't have faith in Rickman, I love everything about the man, I just didn't know how the character could become what Snape becomes. But, from the very first moment Rickman's face hits the screen I was done for, I knew, he was going to hit it. I had tears, from 30 seconds of a close up on his face, the first of the film. Thank you Alan Rickman, that's all I can say, is thank you for being the Severus Snape that the I needed you to be.
That sounds crazy. But I digress.
Daniel Radcliffe busts out the legit acting chops. All three have come a crazy long way since the first movie & I can honestly say if they play their cards right they have incredible careers ahead of them. Rupert Grint, you cheeky bastard, you got the most tears out of me & I'm actually trying not to cry now thinking of that moment. I'll leave it up to you all to guess when that was, as not to ruin anything to drastically for the non-readers. But the readers, I bet you can tell. It was the part of the books that I still refused to believe actually happened. Emma Watson was gorgeous as always, but I don't think she was given enough opportunity to be fabulous. I guess the Harry to Ron/Hermoine ration in the second half of the final book is extremely outweighed. He does have to kill Voldy. And nothing will be said of Ron & Hermoine's kiss except that it was good.
All & I mean all of the other characters brought it home. Tom Felton made you actually want to hug Draco again (the other time being in the bathroom during Half Blood Prince) & Matthew Lewis' Neville Longbottom is everything I dreamed he'd be. His Bad Ass M***** F***** moment was spectacular! If I went to Hogwarts, once I realized Ron was lost forever to Hermoine, I'd totaly crush on Neville. I always had a thing for awkward guys.
It's been amazing watching the young actors of these films scratch and fight their way up to par with the veterans. They're absolutely on their way...
Now that I'm writing this there is sooooo much more I want to comment on & then I realize, I don't want spoil it for anyone.
At first I was super nervous as to what happens now. You can think I'm a freak for having some place that escape into so completely, in both book and film. You can think I'm crazy for wanting to get dressed and rush to the theatre again right now (it's cool if you do, my mom definitely does) but then I just feel bad for you. Why do I have to be a dork for having an escape. This world is crummy & my life is in a rocky patch. So give me this, give me Harry Potter & his whiley adventures. Give me something that makes me feel like, I don't know, makes me feel like imagination is still an option. That kids aren't just playing kill kill video games, they can actually think and explore. And while exploring then can go on an adventure. I can go too.
Thanks JK. Rowling. It's cheesy and gross but I have no other words but thank you.
I feel like I'm saying goodbye to friends. But that's so silly. The silliest, somehow of all. Because they're not gone, they're up on my bookshelf waiting to be discovered again.
Hey all! I wanted to give you more chapters but I don't have time to read and edit. So don't judge, just enjoy!!!! & I also may change these few chapters up a bit... they're a little cheestastic right now!
Dockside
By Janice McCrostie
Chapter 8
“What crawled up her butt?” Gram asked over a boiling pot of lobsters.
“I’ve got no idea. She’s been like that since she got back this afternoon. Then she just started drinking.”Maeve grinned.
She thought it was rather hilarious. Clare, plus a little annoyed, and a little drunk equaled a really good time. She didn’t really communicate directly with anyone; she was just kind of the vocal subtext in the room. Like when they first arrived and Gram was wearing a slightly low cut top, she made a comment about stripper poles. Gram changed into one of her trademark peasant tops. And when Mike and Keaten had arrived and you could cut the awkwardness with a knife, Clare perked up in the corner commenting on the sexual tension.
“She’s being kind of rude don’t you thing?” It was more of a question then she had meant.
“I think she’s hysterical, and you do too.” Maeve smiled over at her grandmother and watched the corner of her mouth perked up. In an instant the two women were laughing over a melting pot of butter.
“I guess I’ve never been the grandmother who taught manners.”
“No, never.”
The two women finished getting a refresher on the chips and carried them out to the screened in porch where the two men were having a heated discussion on whether or not Keaten could use a new truck.
“You might as well wait until Jackson is older, he…”
The look on Keaten’s face made Mike stop mid sentence and Gram cleared her throat extra loud. All three looked over at Maeve, but she just fussed with the chip platter. It was easier then going into that whole mess right now, when everything else about the evening had been going so well.
Clare and Maeve had arrived shortly after four and began helping with preparation. Being that Clare had done a number on the twelve pack she’d purchased earlier in the day, they had to run to the store and were late. It was a regular island barbeque, with lobsters instead of burgers and plenty of food. Maeve had helped Gram finish up the prep work so that the majority was done and they could all enjoy each other’s company. Clare had wondered around the back yard dancing to her iPod with another beer in her hand.
After the guys had arrived it had been like old times. Chatting over stupid things and enjoying Clare’s random tid bits of wisdom. There was no need to add awkward tension to it.
“I’m going to get some more wine.” Maeve excused herself into the kitchen and checked the lobsters. They were just about ready and she was getting more and more excited, it had been years.
“How they coming?” Keaten was right beside her glancing over her shoulder into the pot.
“Almost there.”
“So I bet your wondering about what my dad said in there.”
“Me? No. I mean, what did your dad say, I wasn’t paying attention, something about a truck?” She rang a dishtowel through her hands to finish her stammer and took a deep breath, “You have a son Keaten.”
“Yes.” He half smiled but she could see that there was concern in his eyes. “Maeve that summer my life was kind of all over the place. I was supposed to get married that fall, but I couldn’t, not after everything. But Rachel was pregnant and so I have Jackson.”
“You raised him yourself?”
“Pretty much, yes. Rachel moved in land and came back three years ago. Jackson and I took a vote and that’s how we got started again.”
“That’s really none of my business.” Maeve turned and looked in the gravy pot. “Lobsters are ready.”
The conversation vaporized into a cluttered dining room table and laughter. Clare had somewhat cooled down her drinking and was now capable of having conversation, which relieved Maeve. It kept the conversation flowing and by some Grace of God away from the topics Maeve wasn’t all that excited to discuss. She didn’t want to know about Keaten’s love life, especially with someone who apparently had treated him horribly.
Why were some people so stupid? How could he have let her back into his life after she had abandoned him and his son? There were some things Maeve couldn’t understand and allowing someone so negative back into your life like that was one of them. As she sat at the table, pretending to listen to conversation, the thought began to stew in her head. The idea of poor Jackson, becoming attached to his mother, only to have her leave again made her livid. Maeve’s anger began to turn from Rachel to Keaten, for allowing such a thing to happen.
“What do you think Maeve?” the question snapped her out of it and she glanced up from the plate of food she’d been playing with.
“Think of what?”
“Only the most relevant question of the night,” Clare continued. “Mike Meyers in Austin Powers or Jim Carey in Ace Ventura?”
“That’s a silly question.”
“I think it’s important.” Keaten watched her from across the table. From the tone in his voice Maeve got the impression that he had been watching her all along.
“You probably would.” She stood abruptly and began clearing the table.
“Maeve we’re not finished.” Gram’s voice cut through and Maeve met her gaze.
“Oh,” her cheeks flushed. She looked at all their faces, utter confusion soaked the room. Without another word she turned and left the porch.
“What in the blue hell is going on with my granddaughters tonight?”
The minute she hit the threshold she was kicking herself for making such a stupid scene. But that’s what Maeve did. She let things bottle up until something happened that made her act like a complete fool. Throwing her plate down into the sink she tried to think of a way to make this better. The worst part, she knew, was that she couldn’t know for certain if everyone else noticed her weird behavior for sure. So an apology could make matters worse. Well there was one person she knew who had noticed.
“House rule number 2, no acting like a girl.” Clare was leaning on the counter next to her.
“Was it that bad?”
“It was pretty bad, what’s up?”
Maeve looked towards the porch. “Are they talking about it?”
“Two men and Gram? Seriously? Mike and Gram are thinking about smoking and Keaten is trying to convince them they’re too old. Which went over really well, let me tell you.”
“I’m just thinking too much, there’s so much going on up here.” Maeve pointed to her head.
“Then stop.” Clare thought it was that easy, to just stop over thinking. Maeve wished it was that easy for her. She’d never been that person who can let things go that easily. Plus this was important, it affected a little boy.
“Clare I can’t do that,” she dropped her voice to a whisper. “How could he let that bitch back into Jackson’s life? She’s a terror, only a horrible person could toy with a little boys love like that! And what an idiot he is for letting her!”
“Oh Maeve my darling,” Clare draped her arm around her sisters shoulders, leaned in towards her ear. “It’s none of your business. And if I know anything about lover boy, he’s beat himself up enough about it so you don’t need to do it too.”
She turned and walked back out onto the porch leaving Maeve to think about the logical gem. Clare was right, he probably was tearing himself up over it and who was she to judge more. She hadn’t made the greatest decisions in her life either, but she had to live with them. Her heart broke sometimes when she thought about the small insignificant things she had messed up; she couldn’t imagine impacting the life of a child. If she knew him and she believed she did, Keaten would never forgive himself.
Maeve walked back onto the porch and took her seat again.
“So?” Keaten asked. “Mike Meyers or Jim Carey.”
“Jim Carey, easy.” She smiled across the table at him.
“Ha! I knew it,” He high-fived her. “Definitely funnier, Pops!”
Mike argued that no matter what anyone said, Meyers was funnier. Clare attacked; pointing out that the slinky scene in the second Ace Ventura was the funniest in movie history. The three of them went back and forth, while Gram and Maeve sat listening, humor on their faces. It went on like this for about twenty minutes, laughter being the main event. Either cracking up at a part of one of the movies or at the argument someone had made regarding it. It felt odd and comfortable to Maeve, like a family.
“Well I have to run and pick up Jackson.” Keaten said. “Clare would you like to tag along.”
The whole table fell silence, but Clare seemed to understand exactly what he was doing.
“Love to.” The two left the room without another word, leaving Maeve with a look of surprise, Mike completely oblivious and Gram with a knowing look just like Clare’s.
“That boy.” As she stood she began to clear the table. “Maeve, NOW we’re finished.”
Chapter 9
“You’re extremely sneaky Keaten but lets get something straight, you fuck with my sister I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m not going to ‘fuck with’ your sister.”
“Good because I don’t know where I’d hide the body.”
They sat in silence for a bit, both knowing exactly what the other wanted to know. Now it was just a waiting game. But Clare knew the island wasn’t that big and they would be arriving at wherever Jackson was soon. She turned towards him in her seat.
“So what the hell happened 8 years ago?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy with me McGuire,” she tried to put on her best bad cop face. “How could you treat my sister like one of your tourist hussies?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah then what was it like?” Clare interrupted. She hadn’t realized how pissed she really was. He didn’t say anything, trying to figure out the right way to explain it. So she thought she would explain something first. “Keaten you broke my sister that summer. It took her two years to start dating again and even then she didn’t make the best choice.”
He looked inquisitively over at her.
“What types of choices?’
“No, no, no. You give me something. Then I’ll dish…”
“Clare I’ve been in love with your sister since I was a kid.”
She gagged on the nothing that was in her throat. THAT was something she hadn’t expected. She was prepared for onward babblings of how hot she looked and he was young and he just acted on his male urges. She hadn’t factored in that he had been in love with Maeve. It was kind of stupid on her part; that was the only thing that could really explain it all.
“How could you date other people if you were in love with her?’
He laughed at her question, maybe because it was one he had asked himself.
“Sometimes being in love with someone makes you need affection from others even more.”
Clare took a minute to stew on that. She had never been in love so she couldn’t really understand. Could that be possible? Clare didn’t want to think so. For all her rants about never wanting to feel the gooey stuff, she did believe in true love. And somehow true love just didn’t mean impregnating someone else.
“That’s how I fell for Rachel. She’s a lot like your sister.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Yeah I guess your right.” He glanced tentatively over at Clare. “It’s your turn, what did you mean by Mae making bad choices.”
“Oh we’re back to old nicknames are we?” Her teasing didn’t go over very well. She took a breath, her sister was going to kill her for this but honesty was the best start to any relationship, and Clare knew her sister wouldn’t tell him the truth. “She was engaged, a few years back. About two weeks before the wedding he broke up with her. Maeve and I aren’t close, so she never really told me why. My sister doesn’t cry in front of people, or she does her best not to. Everything was planned, the dress, the hall, the food, the plane tickets and she didn’t cry in front of me. He was the only one between that summer and now, Keaten. You broke my sister.”
Clare on the other hand did cry in front of people and her eyes began to fill. She wiped at them, hopefully before he noticed. But the break in her voice was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
She’d composed herself because she knew it was what her sister would have done.
“See that’s the thing about Maeve, one of the things I’m learning, she doesn’t play the victim, so she doesn’t want your apology. You should just know that what you did that summer changed her and I’m still figuring out how.” Through the fading sunlight she could see that what he’d been told hurt. Why not give him something to hold on to. “But one thing I do know, one thing I knew since she brought Sam home, she never loved him.”
“I guess I just thought I was only putting my own heart at risk.”
“Way to go champ.” She patted his shoulder as they pulled up to the ball field. “Maybe you shouldn’t think with your wanger next time!”
They laughed as they hopped out off the truck. The young boy running towards them was the spitting image of Keaten. He had the same dark hair and big lips with that huge grin on his face.
“Dad!! I hit 2 home runs today at practice and the coach said that I’m gonna be the first at bat next game.”
“That’s great Jackson.” He hit his father head on and Keaten picked him spinning him around. “We’ll have to tell Grandpop and make a day of that game, where is it again?”
“It’s home! So we can have everyone come!” For the first time Jackson noticed Clare standing there. “Who’s that?” The temper of voice let her know that he was embarrassed by being caught in such a private moment.
“Jackson, this is my friend Clare.”
“Hi.” Was all she got from him.
“Hey.” She walked to the door and propped it open. “You mind riding in the middle, I’m pretty sure it would make me blow chunks.”
The thought made him laugh as he barreled out of his father’s arms and ran towards the car.
“Yeah, sure.” He climbed inside and strapped himself in.
The drive back to the house was spent debating whether the Autobots or the Deceptacons were cooler. Jackson was for Optimus Prime and the Autobots, while Clare felt that Megatron was seriously misunderstood. Keaten simply laughed at the two, who were too busy bickering like siblings to notice.
When they entered the house Jackson ran right to the living room and threw himself on the couch. Keaten and Clare followed him in. It wasn’t until his father directed a question at Maeve that he noticed she was sitting in the corner chair.
“Where’s Pop & Grace?”
“They took a walk.” She looked away from Jackson and met Keaten’s gaze. And even though she tried to hide it she knew her eyes were dripping with anger.
“Right. Jackson this is my friend Maeve.”
Clare couldn’t quiet make out the look on the boys face. He was staring Maeve down but not in an angry way, almost like complete clarity had come to him.
“Hi Jackson!” her voice was much more chipper then she’d intended. “How was practice?”
“Good.”
“Jackson’s got a big game coming up, we should all go.”
“That would be fun.” She got up from her chair and as she passed Keaten he could feel the chill. She stopped next to her sister and the thought if looks could kill ran through Clare’s mind.
A moment after she’d left the room the sound of a car engine echoed from the driveway.
“Hey Keaten, can I get a ride home?”
The next morning when Clare came down the stairs Maeve sat on the porch with her cup of coffee, watching the woods. She grabbed some coffee and tentatively let herself out the sliding door, not knowing whether or not the dynamite was going to blow.
“Hi.” She curved into the chair opposite her sister, all the while making the ‘I’m so sorry so can we get this over with’ face.
“Morning.” Maeve stared ahead for one more beat. “So what the hell did you two talk about last night? I’m going to guess it wasn’t the Sox or the Mets?”
“Let’s go Mets.” Clare shot one fist in the air with her lackluster chant.
“Clare!”
“Fine.” She turned towards her sister and told the story of last night, leaving out the fact that she’d cried and told Keaten that Maeve was broken. Somehow Clare knew that was a deal breaker. She finished by telling her about Jackson’s game coming up next week and how they all planned to go.
Maeve sat there for a minute and Clare could tell that she was trying to figure out how to react. Leaning forward in her chair, she could see her sister’s eyes glossing up. They shot up and met Clare’s gaze, disbelief behind them.
“Maeve, do you know what the name of his boat is?”
“No.” The bitterness dissolved slightly.
“Check it out sometime.” She stood up and gave a big grin. “I have to get ready for work.”
Clare left her stewing on the porch. Hopefully Maeve would forgive her for the ride along and run head on into Keaten’s arms. Only time would tell.
Chapter 10
Over the next week Clare fell into an easy rhythm at her job and, from what Maeve could tell, she actually liked it. Of course it wasn’t so much the cleaning, more the snooping that she enjoyed.
It turned out that Maeve and Estelle got along great, when Estelle wasn’t yelling at her for having no back bone. This balanced out well with Maeve’s cleaning and reorganizing the shop every time Estelle turned her back.
She had a great vision for the shop, she could see the shelves dusted, shined, with new tapestries hanging from the windows. If she could pull it off without Estelle noticing she was certain that it would help to bring in more touristy business to the shop. It stunk, but in this day and age you had to play the part in order to get the product sold. Maeve learned all this through the few years of law she had under her belt.
Whenever she had walked into her large office, she played her character, the sharp accountant who could handle any case. And that was part of who she was, part of who she had forced herself to become. It had been self preservation, convince herself she was a badass CPA and then the life she’d planned would work itself out.
Looking around the small shop now she breathed a sigh of relief, thank God she’d gotten out of that world. In the past week she’d realized that it would have killed her. Eventually she would have brought her shark tactics into her personal life, they would have taken over. And then Maeve would have slipped even deeper into the person that she didn’t know.
She was working in a back corner of the shop, keeping one ear open for the sound of the bells she had hung on the door. Her idea was to slowly but surely organize the books into sections by genre. So far Estelle hadn’t noticed that the fiction novels had been separated into their different types. Or that Maeve had delicately each theme on stationary she had found at an old thrift store and affixed them to the front of the shelves.
Having finished the back wall before , Maeve now was knee deep in old romance novels. The names of the different books made her laugh and she wondered if she ever wrote a romance novel what it would be like.
She flipped open one aptly titled “Our Precious Lust.” Flicking past the first half of the novel she scanned over some words that caught her eye, mostly pulsating, passionate, quivering and groping. Maeve began to read full paragraphs shortly after groping.
Groping at her bodice, he freed her two perfect breasts and took them in hismouth. He played with her nipple between his teeth, pulling slightly at the gentle flesh. Playing, he ran his tongue across her chest to her right breast, licking at the hard round nipple. Her back arched towards him and the begging words left her lips without command. Suddenly Joaquin decided that he had tortured Miranda long enough. He plunged deep inside her and she let out a long gasp. The initial connection made both freeze in the moment and then with the understanding of it being meant, he pushed deeper inside her and began the pleasant rhythm…
Maeve slammed the book shut, unsettled by the new sensation running through her body.
“Stupid book.” She stacked the book back on the pile next to her and pulled herself up just in time to hear the bells of the door chime.
Coming around the front shelf she found herself face to face with the subject of her own lust. She stopped short, hoping there was no reminisce of what she’d been reading on her face.
“What are you doing way back there?”
“Organizing some books.” She played with her hair; pressing it to her head like if it were unruly he would know what she had been reading.
“Really? Looks like a little more then that?” He put his hand on her chin and examined her flushed cheeks. “What types of books are you organizing?” he teased.
“Nothing in particular.” She pushed past him and behind the counter. Collecting herself as much as possible she turned towards him again, this time with the register between them. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I wanted to remind you about Jackson’s ball game tonight, he really wants you to be there.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” She scoffed. “After my chipper display last Saturday he probably thinks I’m a complete dork.”
“No he doesn’t.” Keaten laughed. “Not a complete dork.”
Maeve tried to busy herself with some old deposit slips she’d found between some books. When the store had first opened it had done very well, but of course back then she sold mostly Bibles and autobiographies.
“Maeve, he’s starting.” He put his hand on top of hers.
She looked up. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you at seven.”
The bells jingled again as he left the shop. Their 5 minute interchange had left her confused. That sudden family feeling swept over her again and she felt an obligation to go to the game.
It would be nice though, a good way to officially introduce herself to the community. She picked up the phone; she had to be certain Clare would come too.
Clare had her face in a toilet rocking out to her iPod when her cell rang. She twisted against the wall and used the leverage of toilet seat to pull off her glove. Reaching behind her into her back pocket her hand slipped and she whacked her head on the bowl.
“Shit!” Rubbing the spot above her ear, she flip open the phone. “Hello?”
There was definitely someone on the other end, there was a broken greeting followed by some mashed together words. Why would any one even try to make a cell phone call on this island?
She pulled it away from her ear to check her bars; she had one, sometimes two. Clare ended the call and watch Maeve’s name blink brightly on the screen. She opened up a text screen as she walked towards the door, maybe she would have better service outside the motel room.
“Whatchoo want?” Clare texted through the phone lines and waited until the screen told her it went through.
Breathing in deep one last time before she entered the cloud of Clorox, Clare spotted Jasper at the ice cream shop across the street. He was wearing his trademark jeans with a hunter green button down; Ray Ban Sunglasses covered his eyes. He looked so good she’d almost forgotten the horrid scene from last Saturday. Well, she thought, as she slipped back inside, he missed out on a hell of a good time. She put her ear pieces back into place and danced to a few lines of Aerosmith before heading back into the bathroom.Her cell phone vibrated with a response but she ignored it for right now. This was her last room of the day and with the help of Steven Tyler she hoped to finish quickly.
Soon after Clare began working at the toilet again she was lost in thoughts of Jasper, more specifically the way he kissed her. Like he knew the exact pressure points of her lips and cheeks, like he’d been kissing her for years. The way his mouth had felt on her neck came back to her in a hot rush. Then there was the way he looked at her, like he could see through her walls. Well, she wouldn’t call them walls, but others in the past have.
Her daydreams and Steven were why she didn’t hear the door click open and close, or notice a new shadow in the hotel room. It wasn’t until Jasper was firmly braced in the doorway and Clare was nearly lying behind the toilet that she noticed him standing there.
“Gaa!” He scared the crap out of her.
“That’s quite a welcoming.” He grinned down at her like a fallen Cherub.
“That’s because you’re not welcome, you’re trespassing.” Clare pried herself up from the floor. She must have looked like a complete tool. If she could have made it to the phone she would have called the desk, but his 6 foot whatever frame was blocking that from ever happening.
“May I?”
“No.” He derailed from his usual politeness.
They did the two people in a hallway dance, except this time someone was stopping the other from passing.
“Are you 5!?” Clare burst out, utter frustration in her voice.
“Maybe.” He caught her waist as she tried to slip by, put one hand to her cheek. She tried to shrug away with no success, he just pulled her tighter. Clare fought it for about second, but then she realized she could feel his muscles through his thin shirt.
Jasper’s finger ran along her jaw. He leaned forward so his lips were closer to her ear.
“How was your week?” he asked, still lingering close.
