Scribbling

I met ACJ at The Attic Cafe & Books this afternoon for a couple hours of writing.  This measly page is all I managed.  We talked about my pitch, how things might go at the writer's conference, the state of my grief (which is a constant companion; that surprises me for some reason).  I've got a couple more novel manuscripts, neither of them finished, so at least I've got something to work on until the day that ideas start coming back.






I got to pick up my assistants early today since LC has been sick and isn't back up to speed.  They had a cardboard box that was a fairly popular plaything this afternoon.  For siblings they play together well.  DIL1 came home early so I've got a little blogging time before I too hit the hay.




05 February--Barbara Malcolm, Three Cheers for Murder. 

             Late Thursday afternoon, a young woman entered The Alchemists.  Cecilia looked up to see a striking blonde striding to the counter.  The woman wore a severe dark pantsuit and black leather boots that accentuated her height.  Her athletic shape and steely look were softened by her baby face and tousled hair.  Her blue eyes were reddened as if she’d been crying. 

“Can I help you?” Cecilia asked.

The woman consulted a list she pulled from her flat black leather purse.  “Yes, I need some Sea Glass cream, the 4 oz. size, Peppermint Foot Cream, some bath salts, and Plum and Lime lip balms.  What fragrances of bath salts do you have today?”

Cecilia picked up a basket from the stack at the end of the counter and walked around to select the items her customer needs.  “Step right over here.  These are the bath salts I have right now.  Let’s see.  There’s Serenity, it smells like mint and oranges.  Here’s Sea Glass, but you want that in cream.  Also, Vanilla Musk, Seduction, and my favorite, Paradise.  I just love to soak in a tub with a good book and Paradise is the scent I usually choose.  I think it smells like a tropical island, kind of coconutty, and that’s my dream relaxing spot.  Of course, I’d be happy to make up a custom scent just for you if you’ll tell what you’ve got in mind.”  She smiled and stepped aside to allow her customer to consider her choices.  Cecilia moved around the small shop gathering the other things the woman ordered.  Watching her sniff the bath salts Cecilia realized that she’d seen the lady at the club.  When the customer came back to the counter with her selection Cecilia said, “Don’t I see you working out at the club?  I don’t get there but once a week. I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh, I’m Kimmy Neal.  Yes, it seems I spend most of my time at that club.  Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing you there.”

“Like I said, I don’t get there often enough but I sure enjoy it.  Do you work there?  You were helping Tiffy Davis with one of those torture machines when I saw you last.”

Cecilia was surprised to see Kimmy’s eyes fill with tears and Kimmy lean her forearms on the counter and begin to sob.

“Yes, I was helping Tiffy.  She was my best friend.  Now she’s dead.  Who could have done that to such a wonderful girl?”

Cecilia, shocked at the dramatic reaction to an innocent remark, guided the sobbing woman to a chair.  She grabbed a box of tissues and pulled up another chair to try to stem the flood.  “Tiffany Davis was your best friend?  I’m so sorry for your loss.  Why don’t you tell me about her?  It might make you feel better.”

With much sniffling and hiccupping Kimmy began to talk about her days as a cheerleader with Tiffy and Teddy.  How they went to college together.  How they and their husbands had done so many fun things together.  Catching sight of Kitty’s Korner, Kimmy talked about Kitty as their coach.  That Kitty was much more than a coach, she was a surrogate mother to the cheerleading squad.  Marlene didn’t take advantage of all that Kitty could have done for her.  Frumpy Marlene, always going around in ugly clothes, reading boring books, when if she’d followed her mother’s advice, she could have been popular and happy like the three of them were.

Cecilia was amazed at the outpouring of emotion and information from the unhappy woman.  She patted her hand and made soothing noises and soaked up everything Kimmy had to say.  She heard about Kimmy’s unhappy relationship with her husband, Dwayne.  She heard about Kimmy’s reluctance to pursue an opportunity suggested to her by Lars, the pro at the club, to become a fitness trainer.  How Kimmy worried that her friends would think less of her if she worked at the club.  Cecilia reassured her that her real friends only wanted her to be happy and if that meant working as a trainer at the club that was okay.  She told Kimmy that what other people think isn’t as important as how Kimmy herself felt.  And if she got personal satisfaction from helping people get fit, no one should deny her that satisfaction.  Cecilia felt these were the sort of things Kimmy should have been talking to her own mother about.  Why do people tell her such personal things?  Maybe the world was short of people who really listened.  Maybe that’s why virtual strangers seemed so comfortable unburdening themselves to her.  After a while Kimmy got control of herself and apologized for falling apart.  Cecilia reassured her that was just fine.  She was happy to provide her with a shoulder to cry on.  Kimmy collected her purchases, paid for them, and left the store.  Cecilia was relieved that no one else had come in during Kimmy’s visit.  It would have been difficult to tear herself away from someone who obviously needed her.     

You know what's annoying? Giving yourself a small cut on a finger of your left hand and then trying not to let your yarn saw its way to the bone in the cut.  Ouch.
--Barbara