Jillian Chantal

This week’s prompt is a picture prompt. The authors of these tales are limited to 300 words when there’s picture prompt. I’m still working on my new story with the Beatles references. I don’t think there are any in this snippet though. 🙂

Check out the other tales here.

Max smiled at how isolated the house was. Just what he needed after moving away from Chicago. Peace and quiet was what his soul needed.

“Quiet enough to be murdered without anyone hearing?” Stella smiled at him as they reached the point of the driveway where he could get his first look at the front of the house.

“If I didn’t know realtors were pretty rabid about making sales, I’d say you were trying to discourage me from even taking a look inside this one, much less making an offer and moving in.”

“Not at all. It’s your business where you want to live. My great grandmother was a Voodoo priestess and many feared her, even though she was harmless. Nothing can scare you if you let everyone live and let live was her philosophy.”

“And you let the ghosts live and let die?” Max couldn’t resist asking.

“You’re a funny man. Let’s see how you like the inside.” She put the car in park and opened the door. “The power is supposed to still be on.”

Max followed her to the impressive columned porch. “The hedges along here seem like they’d be nice. With a good trimming, that is.”

Stella pointed to one on the far left end. “That one there is so oversized, I bet you could trim it on the shape of an animal.”

“Not me. I couldn’t.”

“You’re good with scalpels but not with hedge clippers?”

Her smile was so charming, Max almost reached out to touch her cheek. “I can handle the clippers. It’s the art part that would be an issue.”

She inserted the key into the door and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Ready for your first impression of your new home?”

I finished my Christmas story this weekend and this will be the last peek at it for Tuesday Tales. Don’t fret, though as I there will be three stories coming in an anthology this fall and this is one of them.

The word of the week for Tuesday Tales is puzzle. If I was writing a mystery, I’d have my heroine puzzling out a clue, but this isn’t that. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Panicked by the expression on his face and not knowing how to respond, she stared down at her pajamas. “Here I am. Two visitors already today and I’m still in my PJs. Do you mind if I go change?”

“First, I’m kind of digging the snowman theme going on.” He waved his hand to indicate her clothing. “And second, don’t ever change. I like you just as you are.”

“You think you’re so clever. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Embarrassed but hopeful because of the things he was saying and mostly due to the way he was looking at her, Candace darted into her bedroom.

As she shut the door, he called out, “May I use your computer for a second?”

“Sure. Just don’t log on to my banking and see how little I have on deposit.”

Mortified by what she’d said since he’d lost his fortune, she prayed he’d forget that part of the conversation by the time she came back. What a dumb thing to say.

Candace took a quick shower once she saw how wild her hair was. It was a wonder Hank hadn’t cracked up when he talked to her. She looked like one of the scarecrows she’d used to decorate the door to the shop in the fall.

Dressed in a red sweater, black leggings and thick socks, she returned to the living room. Hank was still sitting holding her lap top. He closed it when he saw her. “Thanks. I needed to check on an email I was expecting.”

“No problem.” She sat in the chair facing him. “You don’t have email access on your phone?”

“Nope. I turned it off as I was obsessed with checking it too often. I’ve found when I don’t have access all the time, I tend to live more than I did when I had the phone to my face all the time.”

“Good idea. I like that.”

He leaned forward, making the leather couch squeal a little in protest. “I couldn’t help but notice you had the Oxford site open. You thinking about going?”

“I am. I’ve decided to take your advice and leave town. Getting away from my mother’s reach is the best thing for me.”

“Can’t say I’m not glad about that, but I thought you couldn’t afford to go back when we graduated from high school, so how do you plan to pay for it now with having the shop?”

“I’m selling the shop. Even if I have to take a loss.”

Hank had a puzzled frown on his face. “It’s as bad as all that?”

“Yeah.” Candace nodded. “I learned something disturbing about my mother and Angela yesterday.”

This week on Tuesday Tales, we’re all writing to picture prompts- I’m still working on my Christmas tale and chose a holiday themed photo.

Please be sure to check out the other tales and see what picture each author chose and how they used in in their story. Link to Tuesday Tales site.

He smacked his hand on his thigh. “Darn. I was hoping she was complimenting you on the lovely flowers and decorations at the church.”
Candace laughed. “You are naive if you thought that for a second. That woman never complimented anyone in her life unless there was something in it for her.”
“And neither has your mother.”
“I don’t disagree with that.” Candace shivered.
“I know it’s cold.” Hank glanced backward. “And much as I’d like to continue this conversation, I have obligations and need to get back to the reception.” He touched her lightly on the hand. “I know tomorrow is Christmas Eve, but can I come by your place in the morning to talk for a bit?”
She nodded. So much for not risking her heart. The treacherous thing was already hoping he wanted to see her to discuss a future together. “That’ll be fine. Say around nine? That’ll be late enough for you to recover from any hangover.”
“I’m not drinking.” He smiled. “Nine works. I’ll see you then and bring bagels.” Tilting his head toward the building they just left, he added, “unless I can talk you into coming back inside.”
“It’s best if I head home. Trust me on this.”
“I do. You know best when your mother is on a rampage. I’ll be interested to hear what she’s mad at you about this time.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” Candace turned and hurried to her car. She didn’t need one more person interfering with her movements tonight.
All she wanted to do was be home in her own living room, in front of her Christmas tree with the lights shining out onto the snow and cozy inside. And to have a good cry over a ruined evening.

It’s Tuesday again. Time for some tales from a group of authors writing to the same word prompt. The word of the week is corn and I was a bit challenged on how to work it in. 🙂 I am still working on my Christmas story.  Hank, the former high school sweetheart of the heroine has agreed to help her in her floral shop as she’s short-handed.

Be sure to check out the other tales here

While Hank busied himself on the task Candace gave him, she tried not to watch his every move. He had to still be playing soccer some since he was so fit. She bet he could still wear the same clothes he had in high school. She kept tossing glances in his direction as she prepared the matching vase she was using for the second arrangement.

In a few minutes, he returned to her side with some unopened roses, fern greenery and babies breath. “I think this will do it.” He placed them gently on the work table. “I also found these. I guess they’re left over from Halloween?” Hank waggled a small baggie of candy corn in front of her. “As I recall, these were Angela’s favorite. Did she hide them back there?”

Candace giggled. “They were her favorite even though I always teased her that they tasted like wax.”

“Is she all right? You say they were her favorite in the past tense.”

“Oh no, she’s fine. Just hasn’t eaten those in many years.” Candace shook her head. “She’s married now and has two little kids. Twins. She never lets them eat sweets. Drives my mother crazy.”

“I’m glad she’s better and has apparently found a good man. As I recall, she wasn’t well for a couple of years.”

“She wasn’t. I was glad when she and Todd started dating. At first, it was scary, but he seemed to really care for her and she told him all about her suicide attempt. The fact that she was able to be honest with him and he stayed was all important to my family. With her fragile psyche, we wanted her to be careful about becoming involved with another man.”

Candace couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. That year of hell after her sister’s high school love broke her heart after he left for college almost was the undoing of their family. Her pain culminated in the suicide attempt and hospitalization right after Hank moved south for school. Angela had been sure Candace would receive the same treatment. In order to calm her, Candace told her she’d broken off the relationship with Hank herself. It was a terrifying time.

“I’m glad to hear it. I haven’t spoken to or seen her since then and was curious about how she was doing.” He held up the bag again. “What about these then? Are they your new secret vice?”

Glad for the change of subject, Candace shook her head. “Nope. Never. Those were left over from the high school’s Halloween fundraiser for funds for their prom. The junior class sold orange and black carnations tied together with the candy bags. I made them for them. One of the bags must’ve fallen off.”

“I’m going to eat them, then.” He opened the bag, popped some in his mouth and had to bend down to pick up two that fell on the floor.

“Knock yourself out. They’re hideous.”