Boy, getting ready for production is such a busy, but wonderful time! I'm happy to report that I've gotten my edits from the coolest editor,
So I came across this scene yesterday and couldn't help falling right back into Sleeping Falls, eating chili dogs with the two best friends in the scene. *WARNING: explicit language.
***Snip from
Man of her Dreams, due to be released Aug. 13th
Three days passed and Leslie had yet to hear a word,
much less catch a glimpse, of Jay. Finally, she called Sally and the two met
for lunch.
A
teenage waitress in roller skates glided over to the car. Her short skirt billowed around lean, tanned
legs. The orange and black cuff on her tube socks read Foamy’s.
“Chili-dogs, fries, and two root beers,” she said, chomping on a wad of
gum. She hooked the red tray on the car door window panel. “That’s six-fifty.”
The girl
balanced the tray with the confidence of someone who’d been doing this for
years, although judging from her age; more than likely only a few months.
Leslie handed her the money and then passed the
plastic basket of food and drink to Sally. Caramel colored suds dripped over the
mug of icy root beer.
Sally licked
the foam off the side before setting the glass on the dashboard. A foamy
mustache lined her lip as she took a bite of the hotdog, chili-sauce filling the
corners of her mouth. Sally chewed enthusiastically stopping only long enough
to blot her lips with a napkin, swallowed, then chased it down with another
swig of root beer.
The
minute Sally shifted on the seat and gave ‘the look,’ Leslie knew she was in
trouble. “Okay, you want to tell me what’s loosened your hair pins?”
“I’ve
never worn hair pins in my life, unless you count the Christmas dance when I
was thirteen.”
“You
know what I mean. I thought everything went according to plan. You found Jay
the other night and took him home, right?
And stayed for the entire night. So? What’s the problem? Why the droopy
hound-dog face?”
Leslie
sighed; dazed that this woman she barely knew could know all the intimate
details of her life already. “First of all, it wasn’t a plan, Sally. I didn’t plan for anything to happen, okay?”
“Whatever. You know what I’m talking about. Did you or did you not have
sex with him? And what… did it not work out? Was it mind blowing? Come on.
Details for grips sake, will you?”
“I’m not
trying to keep a secret. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It wasn’t
like I went to the bar planning to
take him home. Honestly, I didn’t expect what happened between us to happen.”
“All right-ie…gesh.
So you were surprised. What did you expect, Les? I mean, be honest. At least
with yourself. You knew he’d been gut-kicked. And judging from the end of the
conversation we heard, he and his mom weren’t exactly having a heartfelt
reunion playing catch up or anything.”
Sally
was right. The whole trailer experience had been surreal. The turquoise beaded
curtains, herbal scented incense, tapered candles and crystal ball resembled a
scene from The Wild, Wild West television
show.
“I know.
They hadn’t seen each other in years. I have to wonder how many times they were
within miles of each other and never met.” Leslie said.
Sally finished
off her hotdog, chewing intermittently. A look of sadness crossed her face.
“Yeah. It’s one thing to reconnect with a long lost relative, like a cousin you
hadn’t seen in years…or an uncle, you know. Maybe someone you heard that had
been Shanghaied when you were a kid and finally got a face to go with the name.
Whatever. But a mother, his mother, running
off like she did, well, that bit of news should have given you a good indication
as to what condition Jay would be in. He was wiped out, wasn’t he? I mean
totally trashed, right?”
“In a
figure of speaking, yes. You could say that.” Jay had sat hunched over the bar;
a hazy fog of smoke surrounded him like a lonely man on a pier. “And exactly
what I thought. From the moment I walked in the Bull Pen I figured he’d gone
there to get shit-faced.”
“And?”
“Thinking
he was plastered, I insisted on driving him home.”
“That
was very responsible of you, Les. Nice.” Sally raised her mug of root beer in a
mock salute. “I’ll make it a point to tell your mom. You can never have too
many points in your favor. Besides, I’m sure Jay appreciated it.”
“Oh, I’m
sure. Especially since he was only pretending to be drunk.”
“You’re shitting me! But it must have been
at least three or four hours from the time we left Luella’s and you picked him
up. And the whole time he sat front and center of Rowdy’s bar and didn’t touch
a drop?
“Nada. The
only influence he was under was from Reba’s southern sugared tea.”
Sally’s
eyes grew wide. “But you said Jay was staggering and—”
Sally
set her mug down and slapped the dash, then squealed with laughter. “Oh, my
God! I wish I’d have been there. I mean, the guy has restraint of steel. I
should be so blessed. I wouldn’t wake up with a throbbing head and old Loose
wheel banging on the floor.
“Excuse
me if I sound dumb, but… if the two of you got hot and heavy, spent all night
doing the nasty… what exactly is the problem? And why the hound dog face?”
Leslie
blinked back her frustration. Although things between her and Jay were nowhere
finished, they’d definitely ended on a sour note.
The
memory of their night together was all she could think about. For two days she
hoped Jay would come over. Or at least call her. The sizzling sex had to have
crossed his mind, at least once.
When he
didn’t show, her mood sank lower. “Everything was going fine. We had a great
time until Luella showed up.”
Sally’s
hand froze, the half empty mug inches from her mouth. “You mean Madame Luella came to his house? Why,
for God’s sake? What did she want?”
Leslie
picked up a French fry and doodled through the ketchup with it, making loopy
trails in the red. “What does she want?
The woman’s still there.”
“Sweet
Jesus!” Sally’s green eyes sparkled and she leaned across the five-speed gear-shifter
and stared pointedly at Leslie as if she were counting zits or freckles. “That
is freaking unbelievable.” Leslie squirmed, the sudden inspection made her
uncomfortable.
“Is she
moving in with him?”
“Technically, I think she has. Some big-rig trucker dude hauled the famous
camper for her. It’s parked in Jay’s yard right now.”
“Wow!”
Sally leaned back against the seat, shaking her head. “That is un-freaking
believable.”
“You
said that already.”
“I
know, but,” she said and mouthed the word un-freaking
believable silently. “What does Jay think about that?”
“What
can he say? His mother claims to have hit a rough spot or something and needed
some place to go.”
“I hear
that. A person’s gotta have family. Just knowing that somewhere you have a
bloodline can be lifesaving.”
The
parking lot was filling up. Leslie stared absently out her window. “I guess. I’m
surprised Jay felt he had to do anything for her. How can she show up now, with
her mobile home on wheels and pop back into his life like…well, like she means
anything to him?”
“She
means everything to him. She’s his mother. That’s one connection that’ll never
be severed.”
A gush
of emotions flooded and Leslie’s eyes grew moist imagining what Jay must have
endured. Being deserted, or worse, abandoned at the carnival like what…an
abandoned child waiting for her to come back? Tears fell fast, and there was no
stopping them. She gripped the steering wheel and rested her head on her arms. More
importantly, how will it affect him when she pulls out again?
“I don’t
know if I could do it,” Leslie said as she raised her head to look at Sally.
“Sure
you could. It’s a built in obligation, like me and Lucille. When I married
Cooper, I pictured happily-ever-after.
You know, the whole romantic nine yards. I sure as hell never planned to
be living alone with his antique furniture and Lucille while ol’ Willy boy’s out
finding himself.” Sally took Leslie’s hand. “Some things we can’t predict or
control. This is one of them.”
Leslie
shifted in the seat, suddenly feeling very selfish. This wasn’t about her. It was about Jay. And
if he had the chance to, well, bond with his mother Leslie should be happy for
him. And look at Sally. A great gal whose husband skipped town. Sally probably missed him. Loved him for all
anyone knew. After all, she was married to the guy.
“How do
you do it, Sally? How can you stand not knowing where Cooper’s at or what he’s
up to? Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”
“Crazy
for sure. Every time I open the mail. Bills, bills, bills. He’s leaving a paper
trail of debt a mile long.”
“What’d
you mean?”
“I get
unpaid phone bills, insurance cancellations and a few weeks ago I get this bill
from some hospital in Corpus Kristi for their emergency room. Seems Will showed
up needing their services.”
“Was he
hurt?”
Sally
pursed her mouth and narrowed her eyes. Slowly she wet her lips and said, “I
could be so lucky.”
“Now
who’s stalling? Come on, Sally. What happened to him in Texas?”
“This is
all hearsay. I haven’t gotten his version yet. Not that I’d actually believe
anything that worthless—”
“Okay, okay. So it’s not a fact, but still…
What have you heard?”
“I get
this bill in the mail so I called the hospital, namely for an explanation of
services they provided. ‘Ring removal from penis.’”
Leslie
nearly choked on the French fry she’d been eating and quickly dropped the fry into
the basket. “What the heck is that?”
“My
thoughts exactly. I’m like, WTF? So I called the place and learned that Mr. rat-fink
Cooper was treated in the ER because his cock had swollen around his wedding
ring!”
Leslie
couldn’t stop herself and laughed despite the fact Sally was very serious. “I’m
sorry, Sally. I’m sure it wasn’t funny. Probably very painful.”
“Let’s
hope.” Sally dimpled her cheeks and Leslie wondered who in their right mind wouldn’t
love Sally? And she hoped Will Cooper got everything coming to him.
“How did
it get there?”
“Normally, medical procedures are strictly confidential. But when something as strange as this occurs,
well, it sticks in your mind. I was lucky enough to locate the nurse assistant
who was on duty that night. She vividly remembered everything.”
“No
doubt.”
“The
nurse gave me the name of the woman who brought Will into the ER near
hysterics. So I called her and she admitted that she and Will had been together
that night. He’d asked her to get something from his pocket. I don’t know… money
for pizza or beer. Something. Not important. The thing is, that’s when she
found his wedding ring. He’d slipped it off and put it in his pocket. So, once
he fell asleep, she put the ring on his penis and left.”
“And
came back?”
Sally
nodded. “Yep. Halfway across town, the chick started to worry and drove back to
whatever flea infested joint they shacked up in and found Cooper standing over
the bathroom sink lathering it up. The ring wouldn’t bulge. By then it was
purple there was nothing she could do but take him to the hospital.”
“That’s
bizarre.”
“No,
what’s bizarre is the fact that after he arrived at the hospital, he was too
embarrassed to admit his dick fit through a size seven wedding ring. And get
this. When they asked him what happened, he told them ‘it fell there.’”
Leslie
shook her head and for the moment, all her troubles disappeared. “Some things
in life are just unexplainable.”
A flash
of chrome pulled alongside of them and a deafening roar from the cycle blasted
her ears. Leslie glanced over and watched the guy remove his Nazi style helmet.
Her heart lurched.
Spike.
He
balanced the heavy chopper between his legs and planted the helmet on the seat
in front of him. His oily head and thick jaws sent shivers all over. Her
stomach dropped to her lap and with shaking hands, she set the basket of food
on the tray.
“I
thought he was in jail?” she whispered.
Sally
sat back against the seat. “Oh, yeah. That’s another thing. Spike made bail.”
http://www.amazon.com/Man-Dreams-Daydream-Believers-Book-ebook/dp/B00LBKD5U0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1417786931&sr=1-1&keywords=teresa+blue
I really enjoy dreaming up a new novel. Developing the pefect characters and finding just the right place for the call to action. Should I settle for some place I'm comfortable with, like my home state? Or maybe a southern state would be better. One thing's sure, there's a time and place for skirting around the issue and NOT producing. Yep. Everything from reseaching tedious tidbits that lend realism to your story, to unearthing delicious details-- what dishes were prepared, the styles or dress of the day? and so on. The list is endless. And can qickly zap your zest of story faster than a power outage. 
