Suzie’s House 52: Mixed Up With Muffins

When we left off last week Ben had just left and the remaining members of the house were discussing the two red-headed men, trying to sort out which had done what to various members of the household.  Suzie headed off to the kitchen, and Drew soon followed.

Suzie pulled out the restaurant bowl – a stainless steal bowl nearly two feet wide from rim to rim.  She didn’t even bother to get the recipe from the file.  She had dumped a box of Raisin Bran into the bowl, poured in a quart of buttermilk, and pulled out her 5-Cup measuring cup before she realized Drew was in the room.He leaned against the doorjamb leading to the hall, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Suzie turned away with a shrug.  She didn’t want to share her thoughts right now, especially with Drew.  If he realized what she was thinking, he’d be upset.  She poured in the oil, then started cracking eggs.  One hit the side of the bowl too hard and turned into a gloppy mess in her hand.

“Hey,” Drew said quietly, coming up on her side.  He cleaned the egg off with a paper towel.  “I’m here for you if you need anything.”

“I’m fine.”  Her voice was strained, but she pretended it wasn’t.  As soon as she could get her hand back, she mixed in all the wet ingredients.

“I feel bad about Ben.  I know you had your reasons for sending him off to live with his father, but I can’t help but think he’d be better off here where I could keep an eye on him.”

Like when he ran into the house next door and shot at a pair of murderers and was too busy to notice that Ben had followed him?  Ben had almost gotten kidnapped.  Again.  Suzie quirked an eyebrow, but refrained from comment.  She couldn’t really dump the responsibility for Ben on Drew.  As Ben’s mother, most of it rested in herself.  Well maybe it was about time Ben’s father took some of the responsibility.  She measured out most of the flour and dumped it into the mixing bowl, but didn’t mix it in right off.

She measured the salt, baking soda, and sugar into part of the flour, stirring it right into the measuring cup.  It was lazy cooking, but she wasn’t about to dirty an extra bowl just to mix the dry ingredients, and this way the baking soda would be mixed in thoroughly enough.

“Remember, as soon as we crack the case and arrest these guys it’ll be safe for Ben to come home,” Drew said.

“That’s right.  And Miranda and I can help.”  Suzie’s heart filled with hope.  She turned to Drew with a smile on her lips, prepared to dive right in.  Helping solve the case and put these men away would give her something to work toward, as well as something to take her mind off of Ben’s every moment away from her.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.  I was thinking of taking Vin off the case, and he was trained for this kind of work.  I don’t think it would be right to drag you or Miranda into it.”

Suzie glared at Drew, willing him to understand.  He crossed his arms and looked stubborn.  Sometimes he irritated her so much she wanted to lash out.  Wouldn’t he be surprised to receive a spanking with a wooden spoon – a batter covered wooden spoon.  Instead of embarrassing them both, the turned to the enormous mixing bowl.

Suzie pushed the wooden spoon around harder and faster, far more vigorously than necessary.  If Miranda walked in now, she’d say something catty about the way Suzie liked to cook when she was upset.  Suzie made herself stop.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Drew said as if she’d argued.

“Yes you will,” she muttered.  Even if he didn’t, she was going to take matters into her own hands.  “I’ve never been able to sit on the sidelines when it came to something I cared about.”

She took a gallon sized jar from the shelf where she kept three or four of them.  She liked the kind with the wider mouths, but had to be careful with them now that the friend who used to work for Porta Bella restaurant no longer kept her supplied with empties.  She carefully transferred the mixture from the bowl to the jar, not bothering with a funnel.  Then she put the jar in the refrigerator.

“Aren’t you going to cook that?”

“No.  You are.  You and Miranda and Vin, when it’s your turns to cook.  It’s Six Week Muffin Mix.  Just pour it into a muffin tin and stick it in the oven.  I’ll put the instructions on the side of the jar later.

Drew nodded, looking entirely too serious for muffins.  But then, it wasn’t really muffins they were talking about.  It was their lives and how they should be lived.

Suzie’s House is fueled by your comments.  Not only do your comments encourage me to continue, they often provide direction and inspiration.  That’s right, this is an interactive story.  If there is something in particular you would like to see, let me know and I’ll try to work it in.

Drop by Sunday for a copy of the recipe.

 

 

 

Suzie’s House 35 : A Tale of Two Brothers

 Joseph O’Connor lifted his Budweiser, looked at the amber brew, and wished it was a black and tan.  You couldn’t get Guinness at the Caribou at all, let alone half of the black and half of the tan in a single mug.  So what did his brother, Sean, see in the place?

“We should have gone to Clancy’s.”

“Clancy’s has been closed for years.  Besides, this is close to home.”

Joseph snorted.  “Nothing this side of the pond is close to home.”

“You’ve lived in America for three times as long as you ever lived in Ireland.  You can’t be telling me this isn’t home.”

Joseph clamped his mouth shut.  Arguing over home only led to fighting, which was likely to get them bounced.

“You should be glad to be here.  I am.  Where else could I be such a success?”  Sean took a swallow straight from his beer bottle.  The brown looked good next to his long red hair, not to mention his worn, green, army-surplus shirt.

“Success?”

“Where else could I earn a living off a web site?  The advertisements are rolling in!  NASCAR, muffler shops, body shops, you name it.  I’m so glad you suggested Ian for the getting of it.  He knows how to reach the people who see the beauty in what I do.”

“I didn’t mean for you to take it serious.  I thought you were going to close it down now.”

“No need.  If there ever really was a cop checking me out he’s long gone….  Ah, the lovely Christina.”

Joseph twisted around on the bench seat to look through the length of the tiny bar to the front door.

Christina stopped by the glass door, looking around.  Her waist-length chestnut hair was tied back.  Her bright green eyes, and a smile so bright it could dry paint, went brighter as soon as she saw them.  Joseph wished the Caribou had more than a dozen tables.

Not that he wasn’t glad to see Christina.  He was.  Not only was she a fine looking woman and smart besides, she also had a gentle way about her Joseph liked.  But she always seemed to turn up when he’d rather she didn’t.  Besides, he didn’t like the way she couldn’t seem to decide between him and Sean.

“Hi!”  She waved as she hurried across the cracked-linoleum floor.  “I thought you guys would be here.”  She plopped onto the bench next to Joseph without hesitation.  Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to argue, he made room for her.  “So what’cha guys up to?”  She grinned from one to the other.

“We were just talking about….”

“Nothing.”  Joseph interrupted Sean, giving his brother a hard look.

“Why do you guys always do that?  It’s not like I would ever tell anyone.”  She beamed at Sean, then at Joseph.  “Besides, I can’t believe you really have any big, dark secrets.  I’ll have Bud Light,” she said to the bartender who replied with a two-fingered wave.

“I’ll get it for you.  I was just leaving anyway.”  Sean drained the last of his beer.  Joseph wanted to strangle him.  He was running off because, using Christina to keep Joseph from following.

Joseph loved him dearly, but he hated the way Sean always ran away from anything he didn’t want to hear.  Comments like, “Shut down the web page because the cop isn’t dead after all.”  “Leave Grandpa out of it. “  And “Quit swiping the keys to my jeep” rolled right off him.  Joseph glared at him.

Sean grinned back as he got to his feet.  “Have fun, kids.”  He came back long enough to put the Bud Light in front of Christina, then he was gone.

“Aren’t you going after him?”  Joseph asked her.

“Not tonight.  I think tonight I’d rather be with you.”  She ran a flirtatious fingertip along the collar of his shirt.

He gave her a hard look, trying to decide if she was serious.  “What is it you see in me?”

“It’s the red hair.”  She reached toward his head.  He captured her wrist, pulling her hand away.

“Sean’s hair is red too.”

“Yeah, but yours is redder.”

Suzie’s House 34: Lost Boy

 Previously, in Suzie’s House:

After having fought their attraction to one another, Drew and Suzie were finally overcoming the barriers between them when Ben, Suzie’s son, came home.  Ben was supposed to stay with his father, from whom he is estranged.  Ben walked out when he couldn’t get his father to listen to him.

“Mom?”  Ben tapped on the door to his mother’s office.  Funny, she hardly ever closed it.  He tried the knob, but it wouldn’t turn.  The door was locked.

He knew she was in there.  The light was on, and he could hear a lot of rustling.  Was that a zipper zipping?

“Mom,” he said a bit more forcefully.

“Just a minute, Honey.”

“Mom, I need to talk.”  He’d been desperate to talk to someone all day, starting from when his teacher, Mrs. D, slapped a corrected quiz on his desk with that odd kind of twitchy smile she got when she was going to do something nasty.

Sure enough, she’d given him an F.  The thing was they went over it in class, and his answers didn’t use the same words as hers, but they meant the same thing and she didn’t make anyone else use the exact words.

And then there was that whole big scene in the hall when Mom showed up looking for him.  She looked so upset, but Mrs. D. wouldn’t let her alone long enough for her to say anything.  Ben thought maybe she was upset about his grades, but he never got a chance to explain, and then the Vice Principal made him go home with Dad when it wasn’t even the weekend and he should have been going home with Mom.

It was all messed up, totally whacked, because all the way home he kept thinking about how Dad yelled at him about him not being his real self with his mother.  That wasn’t really what Dad yelled at him as he walked out, but that was the thing that bugged Ben.

What Dad yelled was that Mom was fooling around with both Drew and Vin, which was totally not fair because Dad fooled around with women all the time and Mom never did it with anyone.

Only when he said he needed to talk just now, the sound of rustling stopped, and laughter started.  It wasn’t mean laughter.  It was low and quiet and not meant for him to hear.  And it wasn’t just Mom either.  There was someone else in there, a man, who was laughing with her.

Ben couldn’t think of any good reason why his mother and a man would be in her office with the door closed.  What’s more, all that rustling sounded a lot like clothing being put back on.  His mom WAS messing with someone, and considering the way they’d been keeping the front door locked, and not letting people visit, it had to be either Drew or Vin.

Ben felt betrayed.  He had been so sure when he told his Dad that Mom fool around that she didn’t.  She made him feel like a liar.

“Never mind,” he called through the door.  He headed up the stairs to his room instead.

If Dad was right about Mom, was he right about Ben too? 

It was true that Ben did behave differently with Mom than with Dad, but he always thought it was his Dad’s fault.  It wasn’t like he wanted to be different with each of them.  And he wasn’t really such an angel with his Mom either.  Not all the time.  It’s just that Dad wasn’t going to approve of him no matter what he did, but Mom always looked so pleased and happy and proud when Ben did something good.

But maybe there was something more too it.  Maybe he was a little afraid too.  Maybe he thought if he did something wrong Mom would let Dad win the custody battle they always had going.

Ben shuddered.  It was bad enough staying with Dad on weekends.  Living with him all the time?  He couldn’t even get through tonight.  How was he supposed to live with the man all the time?

Ben pivoted to the right at the top of the stairs, his hand resting on the knob at the end of the railing.  This was home, not his father’s apartment.  This was where he was supposed to be.  He let his fingers trail over the railing all the way to the end.

He stopped in front of his room and looked across the hall at the door to Mom’s room.  Everything was different now that they had boarders.  At first Ben thought it was neat.  It still was neat, but maybe not such a good thing if it meant Mom found someone who might not want him around.

At least one guy wanted him around.  Ben wasn’t sure what to make of him.  He said his name was John.  He drove a silver Jeep Cherokee with white-wall tires and had bright red hair.  He was the same guy Ben had seen hanging around the bus stop the last week or so.

While Ben was walking home the guy had pulled up and talked out his window at Ben.  He said he was a member of a special club for good drivers, and that he though Ben would make a good member.  Ben told him he couldn’t drive.  The guy offered to teach him.

That would be cool, learning to drive before any of his friends.  Ben would have said yes but he knew Mom wouldn’t like it.  Besides, it was kind of creeping, like some guy who offers you candy if you’ll get in the car with him.  Only this guy just said “Think about it,” and drove off.

Ben sat down on his bed.

“Ben.”  Mom called from the stairs.  Ben could hear her feet moving fast.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”  He would have said something like why wouldn’t he be, but something made him hold back.

Mom looked so relieved as she came up to the door to his room.  Relieved, and very glad to see him.  It made Ben feel good.  “I thought you were supposed to stay with your father.”  She didn’t sound judgmental, just worried.

“That’s what the Vice Principal said, but he doesn’t have the right to say where I sleep.”

Mom smiled, looking surprised and pleased.  “That’s right.  He doesn’t.”

Drew came up behind her.  His hair was mussed and his clothes too, which wasn’t like him at all.  His eyes were sharp like a cop, but he smiled like he was glad to see Ben.

Something inside Ben let go.  If it was Drew that Mom loved, everything would be OK.  Drew understood him.  Drew liked him.  Drew pushed past Mom, and came into the room.

“Ben, there’s something we need to talk about.”  He pulled up the chair from Ben’s desk, and sat leaning forward.  “Have you seen a tall, thin man with red hair?”

Ben wasn’t sure how to answer.  He didn’t want to say yes if it meant he would get in trouble with him mother.

“He drives a silver Jeep.  If you see him, you need to let one of us know right away.”

“Why?”  Ben felt almost belligerent asking.

“He’s the man who shot Vin.”

All of a sudden Ben’s stomach felt funny, like it had turned into a block of ice.

Suzie’s House 33 : Suzie and Drew Sitting in a Tree

 Suzie’s head spun.  She couldn’t get enough air, probably because she kept forgetting to breathe.  If Drew didn’t stop kissing her, she was going to pass out.

Of course he wasn’t going to stop kissing her.  The way he was slanting his mouth across hers, his tongue toying with her, she was pretty sure he didn’t want to stop any more than she did.  She was doomed.

She reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair.  It was short enough that she had to repeat the effort a few times before she got enough between her fingers to keep them there.  That was when she realized she was as close to flat on her back as her love seat would allow, which meant he had her arched over an armrest.

He worked his way down her throat, and she dragged in a deep breath, which revealed….

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Suzie’s House 32: Respect

“I’m going out,” Ben said as he headed for the front door of his dad’s apartment.

“Out?  Out where?”  Dad came out of the kitchen with a dishrag in his hands, which was a real laugh because he hardly ever bothered to do things like wash the dishes.

“I don’t know.  Just out.”  Ben put his hand on the doorknob.

He waited a moment, shoulders tense and breath tight, expecting an explosion.

“Seems to me you should stick around more.  You only just got here, son.”  Dad’s voice was a little tight.  He must still be on the Leave It To Beaver script.

“It isn’t like you wanted me here anyway,” Ben muttered.  He didn’t turn around, but he didn’t turn the doorknob either.

“I said, you only just got here. Where do you think you’re going?  You can’t go back to your mother’s house tonight.  She’s probably entertaining someone right now.”

“What?  You mean like Drew?  Or Vin?”  Ben turned around, and put his back to the door.

“She’s doing two men at once!?”  Dad’s face went an ugly shade of red.

“Ewww, that’s sick, Dad.  Mom isn’t ‘doing’ anyone.  Not like you and your bimbo of the week program.”

“Shut up.  Just shut up.”  Dad took a step toward him, fists balled and eyes blazing.  Ben yanked the door open with a rising sense of panic.  He hadn’t meant to push his father too far.  To his surprise, Dad stepped back, taking a deep breath.

“Look, if it were up to me I’d let you run wild.  But I’m under some obligation to see to your safety and well being.  The least you could do is help me out.”

Oh wonderful, Ben grumbled to himself.  Instead of anger, this week’s featured emotion would be the guilt trip.  Maybe Mom could get away with it, but not Ben’s father.  You had to respect someone for them to be able to guilt trip you.

“Come watch some TV with me.  There’s a Packer’s game rerun tonight.”

“I don’t like TV or sports, Dad.” Ben started to back through the door.

“Just a minute, boy.”  Ben’s father dropped the towel on the easy chair and the fake friendliness from his voice.  “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

If he told Mom he was going out, she asked where, then said something about being back in time for supper.  Sometimes she said he should wait until some other time because they were going somewhere, or something.  The point was, she always had a reason, and always told him what it was.

His father said, “Because I said so.”

“But why do you say so?”

“Quit back talking.”

Ben mouthed the words in imitation, screwing up is face, but carefully turning so Dad wouldn’t see.

“Why are you like this?  When your mother’s around you’re this perfect little angel.  Then I get you home, and you show your real self.  Why can’t you be like this for your mother?”

“This isn’t my home,” Ben said.  He walked into the hall before his father could say anything else to hurt him.

Dad followed him out.  “She’s turned you against me, hasn’t she.”

“Mom has never said anything about you to me.”  Ben stopped at the top of the steps and turned around.  “Not like you.  You’re always badmouthing her, and you know what?  I’m tired of it!  I don’t even think you should be saying stuff like this to me.  If anyone turned me against you, it’s you.”

“If you set foot outside this building then you’re on your own, Ben.  Do you hear me?  You’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep.  And don’t expect me to give you a ride to your mother’s house.”

“Fine.  I’ll walk home.”  Ben went down the staircase – a run of linoleum-clad steps with a brown plastic runner.  He hated walking home, but it was better than spending one more minute than he had to with his father.  “It wasn’t your night to have me anyway.”

Suzie’s House 31: A Sympathetic Ear

 ”Dad?  Can I talk to you?”  Ben sat on one of the old aluminum-tube kitchen chairs and braced his arms on the top of the cracked-linoleum kitchen table.  His father liked to joke about all his furniture being OTC – Off The Curb.  Ben didn’t think it was so funny.

He didn’t really want to have this conversation with his father.  He wanted it with his mother.  Apparently he wasn’t going to get a chance since Dad wouldn’t let him use the phone to call her.

Ben’s father reached into the oven and pulled out a pizza as if feeding his son pizza yet again could be considered an accomplishment.  “Sure, of course you can.”  Dad tried to act all jovial, but sounded fake instead.

“I want to tell my side of things.  At school, I mean.  With Mrs. D.”

“Do you want a big slice or a small one?”

“I’m talking about school, Dad.  Mrs. D. is out to get me.”  Now that Mom had stood up for him, Mrs. D. would be out to get her too, but you couldn’t say that to Dad.  Dad totally lost it everytime Ben said anything about his mother.

“Don’t exagerate, Ben.  I’m sure she’s just doing her job.  Here, take a big slice.”  He served out the pizza.

“No she isn’t.  If she was doing her job I wouldn’t be in any trouble.”

Ben waited for him to ask something meaningful, like what did he mean Mrs. D wasn’t doing her job.  He couldn’t wait to tell someone, even his dad, what the old witch had been doing. 

“‘Were’ doing, not ‘was’.”  Dad took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.  After a minute of chewing, he swallowed, then took another bite. 

“This is serious, Dad.  She isn’t doing what she’s supposed to, and it isn’t fair.  She gives really hard assignments, doesn’t give us enough time to do them, then marks off every little thing.  I’m not the only….”

“Ben,”  He sighed gustily, eyes fixed on the ceiling.  “You’re just going to have to try harder.”

It occurred to Ben that his father never really looked at him.  He looked at whatever he was doing with his hands, like taking the pizza out or picking up his can of beer.  At least the TV wasn’t on, like it usually was during dinner.  But Ben got the feeling no one was listening, which really pissed him off.

“Dad, Mrs. D said I wasn’t turning in my homework, but I was.  She keeps throwing it in the garbage.  I watched her do it.  I even got it back out and handed it to her, but she still says I didn’t do it.  Teachers aren’t supposed to do that, are they?”

Ben’s father leaned way back to reach the remote control for the TV in the kitchen from the counter.

“Well?  Aren’t they?”

“I’m sure she’s just doing her job.”  He clicked the TV on, then leaned to the side so he could look at it over Ben’s shoulder.

Anger boiled up, making Ben clench his teeth so hard they squeeked like icecubes.  He hated the way Dad made him feel like dirt, like less than nothing.  His father never looked at him.  He never listened to him.  The only reason he ever wanted him around was to make his mother feel bad because she did want Ben.

Ben was sick and tired of pizza too.  At least when Miranda ordered it, she got something Ben liked.  He hated pepperoni, which was the only thing his dad ever got.  Ben had told him over and over how he didn’t like pepperoni, but Dad never listened.  He never listened to anything Ben ever had to say.

Ben flipped the slice onto his plate, then shoved the plate away.  “I’m not hungry.”

“All right, then go without.”  His dad glared across the table.

At least his father was finally looking at him.  Too bad it didn’t make Ben feel any better.

Suzie at the Crossroads

Every so often I come to a point where I could easily take the Suzie’s House story in a couple of different directions.  I am at such a point right now.

About a month ago Ash asked for a love scene.  I promised to deliver one as quickly as I could arrange it.  I believe she was looking for something between Miranda and Vin, but it turns out the first opportunity for one is between Suzie and Drew. 

Because my audience – particularly the part of my audience who approach me in town but never leave messages – tends to be a mixed bunch I have decided to keep this blog as close to a PG 13 rating as I can.  If I didn’t, I suspect Mr. Al would be even more bloody minded in his history posts, some of the jokes I post would be more risque, and Suzie would get a bit more graphic.  Those of you who have read Zackly Right will know what I mean.

I can’t give you a PG 13 love scene.  I simply don’t have the dot dot dots in me.  What I can do is set up a newsletter to which you can subscribe only if you are of age, put a cleaned up version of the scene on the blog and put the real love scene on the newsletter.  I would only ever use the newsletter for those scenes of Suzie’s House that I can’t put on the blog.

So option 1 would be to set up a newsletter and next week provide those readers who subscribe with a love scene between Suzie and Drew. For several weeks now I’ve been toying with what to do about Ben.  There are a lot of things I’d like to say about being a kid, teachers, school, the nature of family and divorce which I intend to vent through Ben.  I already have a few paragraphs written from Ben’s point of view which I have every intention of posting soon.  Like it or not, you’re going to be seeing a lot of Ben in the next few weeks.

Option 2 would be to skip the love scene and go straight to Ben.

There are a number of other things I could do next week.  For instance, Christina asked to be written into the story as a particular kind of character some time ago.  I’m about ready to bring in the character.  Also, it has been suggested that I write something from a villains’ point of view.  I could easily do so.  I could do something in which Suzie and Drew ALMOST get it on, but not quite.  I could surprise us all, myself included.

Option 3 is to pull a rabbit out of the hat and hope it doesn’t come back to bite me later.

Option 4 would be the promise of a love scene in the next couple of weeks, with the newsletter set up now, but to go straight to Ben next Friday.

Here’s your chance to make an impact on Suzie’s House.  Let me know what you would like to see next week, and that’s where we will go.

Alice

Suzie’s House 30: The Confessional

 Suzie looked so sweet even as she pulled her lower lip in between her teeth and wrinkled her brow in concern.  She wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail.  Her thin arms crossed in front of her as if she were cold though it must be nearly 80 in the room.  She looked small and fragile to him.

Drew put his arm across the back of the love seat, using it to turn himself toward her.  He wasn’t making a pass like some raw teen-age boy in a movie theater.  He was trying to offer her his sympathy, like a priest in the confessional.  She needed to unload and he was there for her.  That was all.

“You know I went to school with a sack lunch for Ben,” Suzie said.

Drew nodded.

“I shouldn’t have bothered.  Lunch was already over by the time I got there.  But you know that wasn’t really why I went.”

“You went to make sure the red-headed man hadn’t killed him.  You don’t have to explain.  I’d have done the same.”

Suzie looked relieved.  Her voice came out breathy at first, then gained strength.  “I knew you’d understand.  He’s my son.  I had to be sure.  There wasn’t any sign of the red-haired man.  Now it all seems kind of silly.  Anyway, Ben has English right before lunch.  I went to his classroom.  His teacher was sitting there with her lunch and no one in the room.  As soon as she saw me, she jumped up.  She said she’d been wanting to talk to me for a while now.  I really didn’t want to see her.  She has said a few things about my divorce that I didn’t agree with.”

“What did she…?”  Drew stopped himself as Suzie turned eyes burning with anger toward him.

“She started in on me as soon as she saw me.  She said Ben hasn’t been turning in his assignments.  I don’t know why he wouldn’t turn in his papers.  I know he did them because I helped him with them.”

Drew had also helped Ben a time or two.  Some of the assignments were intimidating even for a Federal bureaucrat used to writing reports. In particular, one on Mesopotamian religious practices came to mind.  He nodded agreement, but didn’t try to interrupt.

“You have to remember, I went there thinking he might have been killed, or kidnapped, or something.  So I demanded to know where he was.  She wouldn’t tell me!  She kept going on and on about his schoolwork.  I was already upset, and she just made it worse.”

Suzie looked away, apparently unable to look him in the eye right then.  “I said some things I shouldn’t have.  Especially when she grabbed a pile of papers from her desk and started waving them.  Ben’s assignment was right on top!  Then I really said some things I shouldn’t have.”

She seemed surprised by herself, as if anyone else would have been more restrained.  Or maybe as if she expected too much of herself.  Drew couldn’t help himself.  He touched her shoulder lightly.

If she noticed, she gave no indication.  “Boy, she didn’t like it much when I pointed out that his assignment was right there.  And maybe I shouldn’t have hit her hand away from my face.  But it wasn’t assault!

“She goes running down the hall, yelling her fool head off, and I go off looking for Ben.  He was in Math, of course.  I wish I’d remembered before I got to his English class.

“I asked to have him step into the hall.  I wanted to warn him about the red-haired man.  That’s when Mrs. D, the English teacher, comes running up with the Vice Principal.  She accused me of hitting her and threatening her, which I didn’t do.  Not really.  I mean I didn’t do anything worse than what she did.”

Suzie turned a beseeching face toward him.  Though Drew still wasn’t exactly sure what happened he murmured agreement.  He wanted to pull her close, to hug her.  She’d had the kind of bad day he could relate to.

“Then Rob turned up and Ben just lost it.  I was yelling, and Ben was yelling, and Mrs. D was yelling.  The Vice Principal threw me out and sent Ben home with Rob.”

Suzie drew a deep breath.  “They called him because of something I said, I’m sure.  I kind of told Mrs. D there is a murder stalking everyone in my house.  They must think I’ve lost my mind.”

Unable to resist, Drew pulled her close.  “Tomorrow I’ll go flash my badge around, let the administration know Ben may be a target in a stalking case.  I don’t know if it will help keep him safe, but it’ll let them know you aren’t crazy.”

“Thank you.”  She sounded so relieved.  Suzie leaned into him.  He felt his shoulder grow damp through his cotton shirt.  Suzie was crying.

“Hey, hey, hey.  None of that,” he said gently, lifting her chin to look her in the eye.  “It could have happened to anyone.”

Suzie shook her head.  “I’m so afraid Rob will use this against me.  He’s been pushing for full custody.  With everything that’s happened, I’m afraid he could get it.”  The tears rolled down her face, big and fat.

Drew brushed gently, smearing the salty water across her cheek.

“Everything will work out.  You’ll see.”

“Do you really believe that?”  Her eyes were enormous, swimming in tears as she looked up at him, her lips inches away.

“Yes,” he said with a lot more confidence than he felt.

He should let her go now, maybe pat her hand.  He should get off the love seat and leave the office.

Instead he leaned forward a fraction of an inch and set his lips to hers.

Suzie’s House 29: Guilting the Lilly

 Suzie leaned forward, her elbows resting on the top of her desk and her face resting in her hands.  She heaved a sigh.

Everything she had done today she had done poorly.  Making mistakes didn’t really bother her.  Not that much, anyway.  But dishonorable mistakes haunted Suzie with guilt and regret.  Today she’d made a ton of them.

Taking the recipe file from Miranda might qualify.  But Suzie wasn’t about to remove it from the locked drawer in her desk until she could be sure Miranda wouldn’t set the whole thing on fire, let alone splatter batter all over individual cards, or simply lose them.  She still recalled the time nearly twenty years ago when she found her recipe file floating in the toilet.  Miranda never did explain how it happened.

She seemed to have turned over a new leaf where cooking was concerned.  Still, Suzie wasn’t about to risk it.  Besides, there was a certain cake recipe….  If Miranda saw the picture Suzie would never hear the end of it.

No, the recipe file wouldn’t be going back into the kitchen anytime soon.  Still, Suzie could have been a bit more helpful when she first came home, at least showing Miranda where to find the pre-made spaghetti sauce, rather than simply waving at the spice rack.

Had it not been for her encounter with Mrs. D things would have gone much better this evening, not that Suzie could excuse her own behavior.

Mrs. D was going to be a problem, especially after their argument this afternoon.  She was the kind of teacher who took her frustrations out on her students, which meant the disagreements between her and Ben were probably going to get worse now.  Suzie had all but called her incompetent.

Suzie rubbed her tired eyes and groaned.

Tomorrow she would set up an appointment with the principal and see if she could get Ben transferred to another English teacher.  She hoped the things she said today wouldn’t undermine her position then.  Bad enough to have her dear former husband literally step into the middle of the argument and whisk Ben away. 

What was he doing there in the first place?

Suzie straightened in her hardwood seat.  She picked up a bill from the stack in front of her and moved it to the part of the desk she’d been leaning against.

She missed Ben.  He was supposed to spend the night with her tonight because it was a school night.  He wasn’t supposed to be at her Rob’s apartment until the weekend.  Suzie got the feeling Ben would be home now if she hadn’t had the argument.

The school must have called Rob.  So it WAS her fault Ben wasn’t home now.  The thing was, Suzie couldn’t be sure Rob would be careful enough.  He didn’t know about the red-haired man.  He didn’t know Ben was in danger.  Suzie didn’t dare tell him because he would use it as an excuse to overturn the judge’s disposition of custody.

She couldn’t face the bills.  She returned the one in front of her to the pile then shoved the pile away.  She got out of her chair and turned, intending to go check on Vin in the living room.

Drew stood right behind her.  She nearly ran into him.  He put his hands out to steady her, catching her on the upper arms.  They felt warm and solid.

“Are you all right?”  He asked quietly.

“Yes.  Yes, of course I am.”

“You were groaning.  Something on your mind?”

How did he always know?  She looked into his deep, brown eyes, so filled with compassion and concern, and maybe something a little more selfish than either.  He held her arms gently, his thumbs rubbing back and forth.

Here was someone she could really talk to.  Drew would not judge her too harshly the way Rob would, but wouldn’t be flip about her concerns the way Miranda or Vin might.  Here was someone who cared, but who was not personally involved, who could give her a better idea of how badly she had messed up.

Suzie drew a deep breath.

“I think I made a mistake today.  I’m afraid I may have done something that will make Ben’s life harder.”

Drew glanced around.  His gaze fixed on the antique love seat Suzie had inherited from her aunt.  She’d placed it at the back wall in her little office as much to get it out from under foot as to give it a true home.  Drew guided her too it, gesturing her to sit as he himself settled on the crushed-velvet cushions.

“Tell me all about it.”

Suzie sat next to him.  She let him take her hand and even managed something of a smile.  “Thank you.  I think I will.”

Suzie’s House 28: Hey Babe

 ”Hey, Babe.  Why don’t you come on over here and sit down?”  Vin patted the seat next to him on the couch.  He had the remote in his off hand, the one set gingerly on the armrest.

“Shouldn’t you keep your arm in the sling?”  Miranda approached cautiously.  Knowing Vin, he would crack a joke about her cooking now.

She shouldn’t feel so shaky, as if the least little thing might break her.  Not with Vin.  Vin was just a friend.  He would stay her friend even if she had made spaghetti sauce with cinnamon and cloves and caused every single person at the dinner table to gag, including herself.

Would he stay her friend now that she’d kissed him?  Sure, it had been days since that time in the hospital when she thought he was asleep.  By now she should know where they stood.  But she didn’t.

Not knowing was driving her nuts.

Vin glanced at his shoulder, at the gauze taped over bare skin under an un-buttoned, faded, plaid shirt.  His answering smile was lop-sided.  “I’ll be careful with it.”  He patted the brown and tan checked upholstery in invitation.

Miranda sat on the edge, as far from him as the couch would allow.

“I’m,” she hesitated, hating to admit anything, “I’m sorry about dinner.”

Vin chuckled, then laughed, shaking his head and wiping his eyes.  “It was memorable.  Good thing this is Suzie’s house so there was something ready in the freezer.”

“You didn’t have to laugh so hard you pounded the table.”  Miranda glanced at him resentfully.

“Oh yes I did.”  His eyes danced with delight.  “You really caught me by surprise.  I mean I knew you couldn’t cook but that….  That was….”

“Awful.”  Miranda nodded, refusing to look him in the eye.

“See that’s the thing.  It didn’t really taste bad.  It wasn’t rotten, or nasty.  It was just so strange I couldn’t swallow it.  Something about the way the cloves numb the mouth and the tomatoes don’t.”  He stared into the air above her head with a bemused expression.

“Yeah, well.  It’ll be your turn to cook soon.  Lets see what you can do without ordering anything or using Suzie’s pre-made dinners from the freezer.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You bet it is.”

“I accept.”  He stuck his hand out for a handshake.

She took it gently, not wanting to hurt him.  Even after days in the hospital his hand  was rough with calluses.  It was also large, warm, firm, and so manly she didn’t want to let go.

With any other man she would have been flirting up a storm.  Anyone else she could have taken what she wanted and walked away afterward without a backward glance. 

She carefully forced her fingers to relax and withdrew her hand.  Their fingertips dragged lightly across one another’s palms and fingers to cling a moment, tip-to-tip before pulling apart.  Sensation run up her arm to make her all shivery inside.  His eyelids lowered in sensual pleasure while his gaze sharpened with interest from even so innocent a touch.

“Don’t do that,” she muttered.

“Why not?  You love me.  I love you.”  He reached across, and settled his arm along the top of the couch.

She straightened away as far as she could, but still his fingertips reached far enough to toy with the hair at the back of her neck.

He laughed, but the sound held little delight.  His head tipped lazily to the side.  “All I had to do to get you to admit it was get myself shot.  I had to almost die, but it was worth it.”

“You’re supposed to die FOR me, not ON me,”  Miranda muttered.  Then her eyes went wide as she realized she’d said it out loud.  “I didn’t mean…”  She turned toward him.

Vin grinned from ear to ear, his head resting on the back of the couch.  He looked a little pale, but so pleased with himself.  “You can’t take it back.  You can’t pretend anymore.  I’m the one for you and you’re the one for me.  I’d rather not have to die for you to prove it.”

Miranda whipped her head to the side so he wouldn’t see how upset he made her.  He offered all the hope for a real relationship that she kept locked deep inside where it couldn’t hurt her.  He brought to light the pain of knowing she would never have the kind of love he said he’d give her.

She wasn’t sure what self-destructive imp had gotten into her, or when, or how.  All she knew was every single time she let a man get too close, she messed it up.  The way things were going with Vin, it wouldn’t be too long until she screwed it up somehow.  He wouldn’t mean to turn her into a bitch, but that’s what would happen.  She could already feel the imp clawing to get out.

“You want me to admit I love you?  Fine.  I admit it.  That doesn’t mean we should do anything about it.  All right?  You don’t know what I’m like when I’m in love.  I do.  Trust me, you don’t want anything to do with it.  So just back away and leave it alone.  All right?”  Miranda forced herself to turn her head and look Vin in the eye.  It was vital she make her point.

Vin lay with his head against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar and eyes closed.  As she watched he took a deep breath, and snored.