Tuesday Tales is a weekly blog featuring diverse authors who post excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a dedicated group that enjoys reading as much as you do. Today our key word is prepare. My snippet is from a light paranormal set in the 1950s. The heroine works hard to make a living in her restaurant and raise her little daughter while awaiting the return of her husband from the Korean War. Please visit the talented authors at Tuesday Tales.
“Little Gwennie is fine playing hopscotch with our Betty. Make yourself comfortable out here, Laura. It’s cooler. I’ll be back with iced tea soon as I shed these stockings.”
Meg went in, closing the screen door, and Laura settled back onto the porch swing. With one arm spread out over the wood, she tapped a foot enough to create a slight sideways swinging motion without engaging the built-in squeak. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear, wishing to be home to divest herself of hat and stockings. Still, she hated to cut short Gwennie’s playtime, and some iced tea would hit the spot.
Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk. “Afternoon, missus.”
A half smile creased her lips. “Why, hello, Spur. How are you today?”
He removed his cap. “Ship shape.” He seemed hesitant and gave the impression of wanting to say more.
“Something on your mind?”
His eyes glinted with compassion. “I was wondering if you’d heard anything. About the mister I mean.”
She swallowed and shook her head. “Not…not yet. Thanks for asking.”
“When he does come home, and he will, mark my words…” He broke off, twisting his cap between two work hardened hands.
“What is it, Spur?”
“I’ve known buddies that…well, you just need to prepare yourself, that’s all. Be patient, like. It might take him some time to get back to his old self. You know what I mean?”
She thought for a moment, her midnight imaginings returning in full force. Her gaze went far away and then refocused on the old man. “I—I think I do, Spur. I’ll be patient. I’ll be as patient as it takes.”
One quick nod indicated his approval. He slapped the cap back on and ambled down the way.
Spur had said Jeff would come home. She didn’t know why, but it sounded like a promise. Emotion welled up and brought her surging to her feet. Her hands wadded fabric at the sides of her dress. The old man had also given a kind of warning. She brushed it away. That didn’t matter. She could handle anything once Jeff was here.
I hope you enjoyed my take on prepare. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance