Suzie’s House 94: Guess Who
This is a direct continuation from last week, in which Ben’s mother brings down a criminal with a frying pan the day she gives Ben permission to let Gene stay over on a school night.
“So, who was that guy? The one your mother hit with the frying pan.” Gene did this weird thing where he looked in the windows of his own house before he opened the door to go inside. Ben didn’t blame him.
“I told you.” Actually, he must have explained it all to Gene a dozen times since then, but Gene kept asking. “He’s the guy who tried to kidnap me.”
“I don’t get that. Why would anyone want to kidnap you? I mean, why you? It’s not like your parents are really rich or anything, even if your mother does own that house.”
Ben shrugged. He didn’t know why the guy wanted him. Thinking about it gave him the creeps, so he tried not to think about it.
“Think your mom will let me stay tomorrow night too?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t want to admit to Gene how hard it was to get his mom to let them spend one school night together, let alone anything more. If his mom was more like Miranda, it would of been easier. But maybe Miranda was a little too much like Dad, so it was a good thing Suzie was his mom instead.
“She’s nice.”
“Miranda?”
“No.” Gene, swatted at Ben but didn’t seem to care when he missed. “Your mom. I like your mom.”
“Yeah.” Ben couldn’t quite make himself agree. After all, his mother had betrayed him, hadn’t she? She’d sent him away. That was a kind of betrayal.
“She cooks good too! Those were the best pork chops I ever had.” Gene led the way to his room. He grabbed his backpack with is books, stuffed in some clothes to wear tomorrow, and talked about how good Ben had it living where he did.
Ben didn’t feel like he had it so good. He used to. He knew real well he was lucky. Now he kept waiting for his luck to run out again. If she kicked him out now it would kill him. He stood in the doorway of Gene’s messy room, feeling bad and not wanting anyone to notice.
That might be why he was aware of the sound from the front door before Gene was. The click of the lock came right before the voices – a man and a woman arguing.
Ben only caught words and phrases. “Your fault,” came up a couple of times in the woman’s voice. The man, Gene’s father, answered angrily with a fair number of swear words. “If something-something finds out,” made Ben’s ears sharpen. He moved down the hall closer to the living room where he could hear better. After a minute or two, Gene joined him. Neither said anything.
“Fix it or I’ll tell everyone,” the woman said. Her voice was familiar, but Ben couldn’t place it. “I’ll expect to see you at my place tonight.”
The front door squeaked open.
“You want proof? Here’s your proof,” Gene’s father growled. Then there was silence.
Ben and Gene both leaned around the corner to see what was going on without showing anything but the tops of their heads. What was going on was a kiss. A big, wet one. Ben couldn’t decide if he found it exciting or revolting, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Then the grown ups broke apart and Ben just about had a heart attack.
The woman was his teacher, Mrs. D.
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TT :Reasons to Ditch American Online
1 – Their “news” articles are mostly trivia.
2 – Often the links to news articles are really just links to more ads or to fluff pieces that have nothing to do with the question in their headlines.
3 – I can’t easily get rid of their news screen. When I click the X button in the corner the sucker bounces back in the form of a menu. When I click on the X button on the menu it comes right back two or three times, then eventually settles as a minimized button at the bottom that won’t go away no matter what I do.
4 – $26.95 per month for dial up. Need I say more?
5 – The email sometimes glitches so that no matter how many times I click on it, it doesn’t open.
6 – AOL software doesn’t like a lot of web pages, even the simple ones.
7 – The program makes me jump through extra hoops for everything from opening a web site to using a link in my email, even after I reset my preferences.
8 – Crash
9 – If I let the emails I saved build up too much the program crashes.
10 – I get pop ups even when they say I am protected from pop ups. Yeah. Right.
11 – Crash again, who knows why this time.
12 – It keeps looking for broadband even after I told it I don’t have broadband.
13 – When the latest version came out I was forced to use it even though I didn’t want to.
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By George! How Far Will the Princess Go?
Last week Mr Al hinted that Princess Caroline went too far in her amorous attentions, acting with no awareness of her position as the future queen. Just what happened, anyway?
. .
At one time, the Douglas’s lived near the Princess at Blackheath. A home they shared with Rear Admiral Sir Sydney Smith, whom Sir John served under while fighting Bonaparte in the Middle East. The Douglas’s were frequent guests to the Princesses home until she discovered, or so she alleged that Lady Douglas was spreading naughty stories about her. One thing people close to both women agreed upon, Lady Douglas was an intensely ambitious woman who very much sought the public eye. She also thought Caroline to be a woman who had reached far beyond her station. Bloodier feuds had been started for lesser reasons.
Caroline responded in kind She was alleged to have written anonymous letters to Lady Douglas, telling her that her affair with Rear Admiral Smith was common knowledge. She allegedly followed this up with drawings of Lady Douglas and the Admiral in an “amorous situation.” Apparently, the response from Lady Douglas was not what Caroline was hoping for because she went on to send an anonymous letter to Sir John with an enclosed picture charmingly entitled “Sir Sydney Smith doing Lady Douglas, your amiable wife.”
Lady and Sir John Douglas detailed what they allegedly experienced at the hands of Princess Caroline in writing, presented this to the Prince and demanded an investigation. As the Prince was well aware, investigations of this sort could turn up all kinds of dirty laundry that many seemingly uninvolved persons might not want aired.
He sought the Prime Ministers advice on how to proceed. Now that the matter had been brought to attention, it was no longer a private matter at all. As he informed the Prince, “I do not know, sir, what your Royal Highness must do; but I know what I must do. I must lay this whole business, sir, before his majesty without the smallest delay.” Uh oh. Said Lord Thurlow, “Sir, if you were a common man, she might sleep with the devil; I should say, let her alone and hold your tongue. But the Prince of Wales has no right to risk his daughters crown or his brother’s claims…The accusations once made must be examined into.”
The matter was laid before the king. He personally wished it to go away, but he had to agree, it was a State matter. The investigation would go forward. Once the Commission of Inquiry was impaneled, they considered Lady Douglas’s “evidence” first. In written testimony to the commission, Lady Douglas alleged that upon first meeting Princess Caroline in 1801, Her Highness had made a pass at her. She said Caroline embraced her and told her what nice arms she had, that she had “the sweetest black ( very dark brown) eyes she had ever seen, and that she was a very charming woman.”
At a later visit to Monague House she had found the Princess in bed eating “an immense quantity of fried onions and potatoes and an equal amount of ale.” They talked of Lady Douglas’s approaching confinement (childbirth) The Princess told her that she had never been present at one and would like to be on hand for it. That she would bring “a bottle of port and a tambourine to keep up her friends spirits.”
The Princess further confessed that she herself was pregnant. That her habit of taking unwanted babies into her household was done so that when her own was born, she could slip it in with the rest and no one would be the wiser. She was further prepared, according to Lady Douglas, to lay the responsibility on the Prince, should it come to that. She had made a point of spending several nights a Carlton House when she found out she was pregnant for just this reason.
She was alleged to have told Lady Douglas “I have a bedfellow whenever I like. Nothing is more wholesome.” She further pointed out that her bedroom was perfectly situated for this purpose “as it stood at the head of a staircase leading directly into the park.”
Princess Caroline was, apparently, a very deep well of startling revelations. On more than one occasion she was alleged to have questioned wither Her Ladyship could really be happy with only her husband, Sir John, as a lover. Lady Douglas testified that the Princess encouraged her to “amuse herself with “the Duke of Gloucester, who would be quite amenable.” She also, allegedly, admitted to sleeping with Rear Admiral Smith, whom she found, to her delight, to be hell on wheels in the sack.
According to Lady Douglas, the Princess encouraged her to take him for a “walk in the park.” She wouldn’t be disappointed. She went on to say that she wasn’t sure if Sir Sydney was the father of her child, but she “rather suspected he was.” Sir John Douglas rather thought so himself. He testified that after a time he came to the conclusion that the Princess was visiting more to see Sir Sydney than either of them.
He said, ” After she had been for some time acquainted with us, she appeared to be with child. One day she leaned on the sofa and put her hand on her stomach and said, “Sir John, I shall never be Queen of England.” I said, “Not if you don’t deserve it.” She seemed angry…”
More witnesses were called. Most of them had stories about the amount of time Princess Caroline and Sir Sydney spent together. More importantly, how late into the night the two of them would be alone together. Several servants reported that sometimes Sir Sydney would be an overnight guest. During those times, Sir Sydney’s bed invariably would go unused. Others reported that Sir Sydney would sometimes be found foraging in the kitchen for a midnight snack or he would order a servant to fetch him a bottle of wine at three or four o clock in the morning.
The empty bottles would be found in Caroline’s room the next day. One maidservant reported that early one winters morning, she went into the Princesses room to start a fire in the fireplace, she walked in on Caroline and Sir Sydney going at it with such frenzied abandon that she fainted dead away from shock.
Damning stuff. More than enough to bring charges of adultery against Princess Caroline. There was one little point that needed attention, however. One fact that had to be considered. One thing that all the servants who testified against Caroline so far had in common. And that thing was…
– Mr. Al
Word Choices – Living Room.
I am sick and tired of the phrase “living room.” Much of what I write takes place indoors. Whether we are talking about apartments, cottages, or mansions, my characters inhabit the public parts of private spaces. I end up talking about living rooms a lot.
I could grab a thesaurus and simply pick a few words, and have done so a time or two, but I usually end up right back to living room.
So, what I want to know is what words do YOU use when talking about that part of your home? Do you have more than one, like a parlor and a rumpus room? Do you ever call it a lounge, then have someone look at you funny? What do you think of people who call it a den? Or is den more of a private thing that you would only invite special people into? Or should I simply have the heroine open the door, then invite the hunk – um… I mean hero – to sit down?
7 Things
Heather tagged me for this one. She did a bookish take on it. I think I’ll do the same.
1- Until my kids made me re-read Harry Potter half a dozen times I used to never, ever re-read books.
2 – I got hooked on manga. Yeah, big secret there.
3 – I frequently re-read manga. It still don’t generally re-read romance, SF, or classics.
4 – I don’t like mainstream at all. I find it boring and tedious.
5 – At one point I convinced myself I shouldn’t read anything at all because it was cutting into my writing time. I made myself stop. Instead of writing more, I ended up watching TV.
6 – I used to make myself finish any book I started reading, no matter how bad it was. If I tried to put it down and walk away, I’d go nuts trying to figure out what was going to happen next, even if I didn’t care while actually reading.
7 – Now I don’t bother to finish about a third of all the books I pick up. If I get curious enough, I simply skip to the end.
Who to tag? This is a hard one for me. Ok, getting REAL random here:
Vicki, Library Lady, Darla, Forgetful One, Kate, Sharon, Marina.
I picked each of you because I know you are readers.
A Day of Rest
I was planning on posting a comparison of chopped onions today, but it occurred to me that I have been blogging nonstop for at least a couple of months now, and you know, I think I just want to take today off. I’ll to the onion thing next Sunday
Ruined
Fred: I’ll bet you $20 you won’t do it.
Raoul: You’re on. Look at me! Look at me! Aren’t I pretty? Call me Jill from now on.
Jack: Uh oh.
Jill: You ruined it! May favorite dress.
Raoul: To heck with the dress, what about my reputation?!
Today’s theme is ruined
Previously in Jack and Jill Away We Go
Saturday photo scavenger hunt
The rules for Photohunt can be found here.
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Suzie’s House 93: Getting a Handle On It
This one links back to so many different threads in the story that I don’t know where to begin. I think it stands reasonably well on its own, but if you have any points of confusion, let me know and I’ll put a link to the answer in the comments.
Suzie chose one of the larger cast iron pans. Not the one so large it looked like something Popeye would hand Bluto just so Bluto could plunge to the floor with it. The regular large one should do. She should be able to squeeze all five lamb chops into the pan at once.
“But Mom,” Ben said in that new, whiney voice he’d never used before living with his father, “Dad let us do it all the time.”
Suzie doubted that. Rob wasn’t likely to go out of his way for Ben. “I didn’t say you couldn’t have your friend spend the night. Just not on a school night.” She set the pan on the stove, then dug around for a couple of pots.
“But he needs a place to stay tonight.”
Suzie paused with the refrigerator door open. What did they have that would go well with pork chops? She hadn’t made it to the grocery store in over a week, and it showed. “Why can’t he stay home?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Suzie closed the door, having found nothing she could use. She gave Ben her full attention, sensing something not right. “Why can’t you tell me?”
“I just can’t.”
She wanted to order it out of him, to demand that he tell her at once. It would do no good. She took a deep breath, and took out the last of the potatoes and onions from the drawer. Talking to the cutting board, she said, “Ben, I don’t ever want you to feel you can’t talk to me about something. No matter how bad it is, even if it’s something to do with me, I want to hear it. All right?” She glanced over at him.
“If that’s true, then why didn’t you tell me you were thinking about throwing me out?”
“I did! As soon as I realized….”
“You can’t have decided just like that. You should have told me sooner. What you were thinking. You should have told me what you were thinking.” Ben’s lower lip quivered.
“Oh, Ben…” She reached for him, but he stumbled backward. The little boy who would let her hold him so he would feel better was gone. In his place was this horribly injured young man. God, what had she done to him? To both of them.
He looked away, trying hard to master himself. Out of respect, Suzie turned back to her cutting board.
Maybe she should make scalloped potatoes instead of mashed. Except there was no cheese left. Seemed everything she tried to do today was two steps forward, one step back. Nothing she needed came easily to hand. She wanted to make a salad, but the only thing in the fridge was lettuce. Well, then, she’d make Hollywood Salad.
And maybe, if she stayed quiet and busy and Ben didn’t run, he would tell her why his friend couldn’t go home.
Actually, she could think of a number of reasons on her own; none of them pleasant. Maybe the kid’s parents were neglectful, and left town without him, locking the door behind them. Maybe they’d had a fight with the boy and ordered him out of the house. Maybe something worse.
How would she feel in the boy’s position? Or Ben’s?
Suzie put her paring knife down and sighed.
“All right. He can stay the night, but only on the condition that you go to bed at your regular time. I take it he’s the one standing around outside.” She gestured toward the back door as she put the pan away and took out the Bluto cast-iron pan. Six chops wouldn’t fit otherwise.
Instead of going to the door and letting his friend in, Ben stood by the kitchen table and stared at her, an expression of wonder on his face. He seemed unable to come up with the words he needed. She understood the feeling.
Well, they couldn’t leave the poor boy out in the back yard. Suzie walked over, Bluto pan still weighing down one hand, and opened the door.
A man with bright red hair hanging lank and long stood in the doorway glaring at a kid in the yard who must be Ben’s friend. It was him! Not the one who shot Vin, the one who had tried to kidnap Ben. Sean.
For a moment, Suzie was too stunned to move. They all simply stood there, eying one another.
“Suzie, what’s for din…” Vin said, coming in from the central hall.
As if watching some avant-garde movie Suzie watched Sean pull a gun from his waistband. He shoved past her, stepping carelessly across her threshold and into the room, and pointed the gun toward Vin.
With no conscious volition, Suzie brought the pan up and whacked the man on the back of the head. He dropped like a stone.
“Nice!” Vin stepped in to tie the guy up.
“Wow! Mom! That was great!”
“Way to go, Mrs. Hammaker,” A boy said from the doorway behind her. He wore a grin to match Ben’s. That was how Suzie met Gene and captured Sean O’Connor.
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13 Words Off the Top of My Head
1. carrot
2. diet
3. hungry
4. work
5. 4.867
6. slow!
7. snowflake?
8. no.
9. chat?
10. distraction
11. deadline?
12. maybe.
13. So get off your butt and write already!
Oops. Mr. Al said I cheated with a phrase instead of a word, but he loves me anyway.
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Tamy ~ 3 Sides of Crazy 🙂
Linda
Nicholas
PQNation
Darla
Kimberly Menozzi
Di
Miranda
Paige Tyler
Eve
Celticlibrarian
Desiree – Dessays
Forgetfulone
Nicole Austin
danica
julia
This Book For Free
By George! What Is Caroline Up To?
From what Mr. Al said last week, I get the feeling Princess Caroline was… what did they call it then? A light skirt.
In 1801, Princess Caroline moved to Montague House, in London. Even at 4,000 pounds a year, she managed to maintain a full staff and entertain on a regular basis. The Princess had her own ideas about entertaining, however. For example, after dinner, when guests would retire to the drawing room for musical entertainments, Princess Caroline would take a young man down to the Blue Room, lock the door and remain there for several hours.
German ways may not have been English ways, but it was not likely that she could have gotten away with that even in Brunswick. When told that such actions were, to put it mildly, improper, Her Highness “received this hint very ill and was not in the least improved by it.” This disdain of advice would come back to haunt the Princess in the very near future.
Besides, in Caroline’s view, she was a grownup wasn’t she? It was no one else’s business if she enjoyed the company of young men. Or that she liked to dish the dirt on other ladies with her servants. Or that she liked raw onions. Or that she liked to wash the onions down with a glass or two, or six, of ale. Or that she loved to flirt with “any presentable young man who came to the house.”
While she certainly considered her personal life to be no one else’s business, she had completely lost sight of a fact that her husband also could not accept. Her life was not her own. She was the Princess of Wales. One day, her husband would be King of England and she would be queen. As her uncle tried, in vain, to get his son to understand, their marriage was more a matter of state than a union of two people.
While the Prince was fully capable of understanding this intellectually, emotionally he was unable to grasp it at all. The depth of responsibility he would have to assume upon ascending the throne terrified him. His response was to behave as though it were someone else’s problem. A foreshadowing of this mindset revealed itself during the drawn out confrontation with the King over his promotion to general.
He had admitted to several friends that he knew, in his heart, that he would never make a great general. In fact, in a very rare display of candor, he admitted that he wouldn’t even make a mediocre one. The bone that stuck in his throat was that he was being passed over in favor of his social inferiors. He believed that he should be made a general because he was the Prince of Wales. Once he became a general, he would surround himself with solid, professional military men and take their advice.
That was his plan upon becoming King George the Fourth. What it reveals is a profound lack of understanding of the nature of leadership. To be fair, that was his fathers failing as well. George the Third was utterly dependent on his advisers in the earlier part of his reign. He was a much more effective king in the latter portion not because he outgrew the dependence, but because he was so bad at picking the advisors he needed to run the kingdom that he ended up doing their jobs and his.
George the Third was an abysmal judge of talent. After a couple of decades of having to run the show, he developed a very clear idea of what it meant, and what it took, to be a king. His son had a leg up on him in that he was much better educated, and he seemed to know the right people to turn to for advice. The Prince’s problem was that he seldom took that advice. Nor could he understand that he wasn’t simply having problems with his wife, he was having problems with the future Queen of England.
Princess Caroline was no better. No doubt many people tried to get her to understand that she would one day be queen. It was a wasted effort. She looked at her wastrel of a hubby and thought; “What’s good for the goose…” The behavior of these two people, with the help of “Sailor Billy” King William the IV, would bring the institution of the English monarchy to the very brink. It would take the very long reign of the hyper-responsible Queen Victoria to restore it. And even she had an uphill battle for the first twenty years.
Interestingly enough, the more Caroline behaved like her husband, the more people thought she was insane. Bishop Herd said that he was a “perfect convert” to the idea that Caroline was a nutter. The Prince believed it, or so he told anyone willing to listen. Lord Holland stated that “if not mad, she was a very worthless woman.”
Stories of her bad behavior come to a head in the summer of 1805. While the Prince certainly had no objection to nasty stories about his wife circulating in private, indeed, he started more than his fair share of them, publicly he had no comment. He was forced to take public action, however, when Lady Douglas, wife of Sir John Douglas, accused the Princess of trying to destroy her marriage.
– Mr. Al
Writer's Headgames
I’ve been trying to write a short book lately. It’s been so long since I’ve written in this format that I’m finding it a real challenge. My pacing seems to be geared for stuff that runs over 100,000 words and Suzie’s House, which is generally between 500 and 1,000 words.
That and a slight rustiness had caused the process to slow way down. As a result I have to play game with myself to get any writing done.
Probably the best has been to allow myself to read only when I get so much written. I’ve also tried the snowflake method mentioned over at Romance Roundtable, plain old BIC-HOK (Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard), and have cut way down on my blog visits.
What about you? If you write, what do you do when it just isn’t flowing? What works best for you?
Headbanger Chellists
Susan introduced me to Apocalyptica. What can I say? I love a good iconoclast.
Whether it’s their smooth stuff:
Or not:
Home Made Instant Pie
My mother gave me this. It’s a jar of pie filling that she made. All I had to do was make a crust, pour this stuff into the crust, and bake at 375 for about half an hour. It came out tasting great, and disappeared the same day it came out of the oven.
The recipe for this and other canned pie fillings can be found here.
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Away We Go
This one continues directly from last week’s Photohunt.
Jack: Aw, Honey. Don’t you know it’ll all be OK as long as we’re together?
Jack: Hey, Fred and Raoul, you’re late. Everyone’s already… hey! Wait! Where are you taking me?
Today’s theme is together
Previously in Jack and Jill After the Party
Saturday photo scavenger hunt
The rules for Photohunt can be found here.
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Suzie’s House 92: A New Direction
Joe and Sean grew up in the rough and tumble world of car bombs and stabbings in Dublin. When Joe caught Vin pretending to be a cab driver to lure Sean into a trap, he shot him. Days later, they coincidentally attended a party in Cindy’s apartment, which is next door to Suzie’s House. Drew shot them both while attempting to arrest them. Since then they have holed up in the apartment of a woman who was out of town, then stayed with a friend on a farm on the outskirts of town. In both places they were nearly caught.
“He SHOT you?!” Mike showed no signs of inviting Sean or Joe to sit down. They stood around in the hall by the front door, talking like they weren’t going to stay more than a minute.
Mike and Carl lived in a split-level ranch on the East side. Sean couldn’t think of a better place to hide from the law. If he could talk the boys into letting him and his brother, Joe, stay, they’d be safe.
“It hurts like H’ll.” Sean grabbed his arm as if the bullet wound were fresh. It did hurt – when he grabbed it. “Could you spare a brew to take the edge off?” Sean gave Mike his best help-a-bloke-out look. It actually worked. Before Mike gave it half a thought, he was leading Sean and Joe to the kitchen where he served cans of Miller all around.
Well, it wasn’t Guinness, but it would do. Sean popped the top. “Thanks. That goes down mighty fine right now.”
“How long ago was this? That you were shot, I mean.”
“Three weeks ago, but we’ve had another run in with the man today. We were staying with Ravenhorst when he showed up.” Sean glanced over at his brother while he gulped down his beer.
It seemed Joe had been unusually quiet lately. Quiet and distant. Not a good sign in a man given to depression and strange fits. Sean didn’t fancy waking up on a jet headed for Ireland.
“And the first time he walked in on a party you were attending? That’s where he shot you?” Carl piped up. It wasn’t all that strange for Carl to be quiet.
“That’s right. He lives next door, on Jennifer St.”
“Isn’t that where that she-dog Miranda lives?” Carl asked Mike.
Mike nodded. “She came into the store the other day and started ranting about having been charged a late fee she didn’t think she deserved.”
“That isn’t what bothers me most. It’s the way she acted all buddy, buddy, like we were her friends.”
Mike nodded agreement more emphatically. Then he turned sharp eyes on Sean. “It sounds like the two of you are wanted men.”
“That we are,” Sean admitted blithely. “Between one thing or another with this man, and the rest looking for us, we haven’t been able to rest our bones anywhere.”
“I can see how that would be a problem,” Mike nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully.
“Point being we need a place to stay.” Sean let the request hang in the air. He’d leave it there all day if he had to. No need.
Carl was quick to assure him, “You’re both welcome here as long as you need.”
Mike shook his head. Sean was afraid he’d take the offer back, but there was more wonder and derision than denial in the man’s expression.
“What gets to me is that you let them walk in on you like you did. From what you said, they got the drop on you twice. You know where they live. If it were me, I’d take the fight to them.”
Sean kept his expression bland, but inside he bristled. The man had a point. Said like that, it seemed a matter of honor. Maybe he and Joe weren’t the finest people in the world, but they had always lived and died by their honor. Shouldn’t they be doing something about the FBI agent? Sean glanced at Joe. Joe was always the first to stand up for their honor. Didn’t that have everything to do with his shooting the FBI guy’s sidekick in the first place?
Joe grunted denial, his upper lip curled. Clearly, he had no intention of doing anything.
Well, then, it was up to Sean. He’d been meaning to pay the people living in that house a visit anyway. “You’ll get no argument from me, Mike.”
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