Suzie’s House 23: The Forgotten One
Ben waited by the front door for as long as he dared, but neither his mother nor Andrew came down to send him off to school. If he waited any longer he’d miss his bus.
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Yesterday his mom had slept in because she’d been up so late waiting for Andrew. Andrew had been at the hospital watching Vin, but he got up early to make sure Ben was all set for school. Not that Ben needed anyone’s help. But it was nice. Ben’s dad never bothered. Andrew did a good job of it.
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Then something happened at the hospital. It sounded like Vin tried to come home, but couldn’t make it to the bathroom. Ben wasn’t exactly sure what passing out on the way to the bathroom had to do with coming home.
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The banjo clock on the wall in the downstairs hall chimed. Ben couldn’t wait around any longer.
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“Bye Mom!” He shouted at the stairs.
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He tried not to feel left out, abandoned, and ignored. His mouth tugged down as he closed the front door behind himself with no response from any of the grown ups in the house. He tried to make his lips stop acting funny by pressing them together, and made it worse instead of better.
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Ben wanted to see Vin in the hospital, but he wasn’t allowed because he wasn’t family. Everyone else got to see Vin just not him. It was because he was a kid. No one every cared about how kids felt.
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He wasn’t sure because no one would tell him anything, but it sounded like some creepy guy was after Vin. Well duh. It wasn’t like Vin shot himself. Could it be the guy who liked to hang out across the street from the bus stop?
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Taking the bus wasn’t much fun anymore. First there was the creepy guy. Then Ben’s best friend Mark moved to a different neighborhood and didn’t take the bus with him anymore. It was hard enough to put up with the bus driver when Mark was around. Now Ben got yelled at almost every day.
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Things weren’t going too well at school either, but did anyone care? Did his mom even ask any more? Not since Miranda moved in.
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Ben would have been jealous, but he liked Miranda. And Andrew. And Vin too. If they quit acting like he was invisible, he’d like them even better.
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He had to run the last few yards when the bus arrived before he did. He paid his fare, then plopped down in a seat by the door. Through the window next to him he saw some guy walk up to the weirdo who always watched the bus stop.
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The weirdo was a tall, thin, red-headed man. They guy who walked up looked a lot older. He had silver hair, anyway. The two of them talked for a minute, then went off together as the bus turned the corner so Ben couldn’t see them anymore.
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Something about those two men made him uncomfortable.
The previous was Suzie’s House 22: Should Something Arise
This is Suzie’s House 23: The Forgotten One
Next is Suzie’s House 24: A Mother’s Love
Electronic Dust
Is it just me, or has the Internet gone wonky? I’m so tired of getting booted off! Posts that I write keep getting obliterated, made as insubstantial as electronic dust.
Alice
Tudor Follies: Anne of Cleves and the Royal Willie
Those of us who are not well versed in history are no-doubt very concerned about Anne of Cleves’ future. Being an unwanted bride to Henry VIII could get you killed. And Cromwell? Better set aside your breakfast, Anastasia.
And now for History according to Mr. Al.
***
They had the same uncle. The gruff, lovable old Duke of Norfolk. He who had gone so far out of his way to make sure that his niece, Anne Boleyn, was slaughtered like a sheep. Getting on Henry’s extremely profitable good side worked with Anne…for a while. Why shouldn’t it work with Katherine? Not only was she younger and much prettier than Anne, she was a few bricks shy of a load! She would do anything she was told to do! She didn’t have Anne’s dynamic personality, but she didn’t need it. Katherine was fourteen or fifteen, Henry was forty-nine. The perfect age difference.
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Henry wasn’t the only older guy to notice Katherine. By the time she caught Henry’s eye she had already had plenty of experience with other men. She would have reason to regret this. There is evidence that she already did. For now, the Katherine/Henry train was moving in the right direction. But what to do about Anne? Everyone involved was worried to distraction about the mess that would result from yet another royal divorce. They had reason to worry. As with Katherine of Aragon, putting Anne aside the wrong way could start a war. Accuse her of adultery? She was too well known now. No one would believe it and Henry would look really bad accusing her of such a thing. Henry was not public opinion proof.
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What to do, what to do, what to do? Unfortunately for Anne, Henry was doing what Henry did best. Blaming her for the fact that he wasn’t attracted to her. Given Henry’s deadly reputation, Anne was getting stressed. She tried avoiding him, which cheesed him off even more. As if HE were the problem! While he was unhappy with Anne, Henry was saving his righteous indignation for someone else.
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On June 10th 1540, Cromwell was arrested in the Council chamber by, who else, the Duke of Norfolk. Not wasting a moment, Henry had him chucked into a barge and taken to the Tower. That same day a Bill of Attainder against Cromwell was drawn up. The charges were treason and heresy. Charges Cromwell himself had used many times in the past against Henry’s enemies. More irony.
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On the 19th the Bill passed the upper house and was sent down to the Commons. While all this was going on, Henry’s plans for annulment were moving full steam ahead. On the 24th Henry sent Anne to Richmond Palace, claiming that plague had broken out in London and he wanted her safe. He would join her in a few days. He didn’t, of course. This put Anne in very bad frame of mind. She had no idea how things stood between her and her husband, no one was telling her and she didn’t even know how the whole thing had started. She had an ugly suspicion how it might end.
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With Anne out of town Henry decided to play the footloose bachelor. Since the fastest, and safest, way through 16TH century London was by boat, everyone who was anyone wanted a palace by the river. This allowed anyone and everyone, including nobodies loafing on the wharves, to view the comings and goings of all and sundry. Including the king. It was soon the talk of London that Henry was visiting Katherine Howard. Nearly every bloody night! He even visited her in broad daylight! If anyone was going to be accused of adultery…
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Members of Katherine’s family were telling her to take a page from her cousin’s playbook. Keep him at arm’s length. Make him WANT it. Don’t give in till you’ve got the ring on your finger. They thought she was still a virgin. There was no point in spoiling Henry’s illusion. Katherine heeded her family’s advice. She did as she was told. This not only enflamed Henry’s passion, it roused him to swift action against Cromwell and the annulment of his marriage.
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By the end of June Anne was still at Richmond and Henry had yet to join her. She was getting seriously frightened. Her ladies were old court hands and knew the signs. All the signs were bad. Anne knew she was totally at Henry’s mercy. That Henry not only didn’t love her, but seemed to hate her. What had she ever done to deserve this? All she could do was wait and hope for the best. For Cromwell, however, the waiting was over.
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On June 29th the Bill of Attainder against Cromwell passed through the Commons. He was a dead man. Worse than that, he was informed that he would suffer the FULL penalty for treason. Ouchie!!! He begged Henry for mercy. “Forgeddaboutit!” Came the reply. In early July Anne began to hear stories about what was happening in London. More bad news. Anne’s chamberlain, the Earl of Rutland, was ordered by Henry to reassure Anne that all was well; That Henry would never do ANYTHING mean or nasty or violent like drag her off to the Tower and chop her head off. He had only done that to one wife…so far. And everyone agreed with Henry that that wife had probably deserved it. Anne was not reassured.
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On July 7th Henry wrote out a declaration that the clergy should look into his marriage. He claimed he had no ulterior motives for seeking an annulment. That he had been lied to about Anne’s beauty, although her virtue was everything a good husband could wish for in a wife. Then there was the business of the pre-marriage agreement. Merciful Heavens! Worrying about that was keeping him up nights.
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As if that were not enough, Henry claimed that he had, quote, “Lack enough of the will and the power” to consummate his marriage. His doctors were happy to confirm that they had urged Henry “not to enforce himself.” God forbid he should damage the Royal Willie before he produced more princes. On July 9th the convocations of York and Canterbury found the marriage of Anne and Henry Null and Void.
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That same day a deputation rode out to Richmond to inform Anne. She was told that, henceforth, she should refer to herself as His Majesties Honorary Sister. No hard feelings. No Tower or chopping block either. Oh… One last thing… She was informed that His Majesty wished her to have 4,000 pounds per annum, the manor houses of Bletchingly and Richmond and… Hever Castle, Anne Boleyn’s old house. The titles to these places were to be in her name, any rents or profits from these properties were hers to keep. But only if she stayed in England. Should she return to Cleves, where she was not allowed to own property, where she would be under the total control of her brother and would be lucky to claim the clothes on her back as her own, all these properties would revert to the Crown.
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For reasons inexplicable, she decided to stay in England. She liked England! She loved England! She wrote letters to her brother, King Francis and Charles attesting to this fact. Francis and Charles approved of the annulment. I wonder why. Anne declared to the Lords that Henry’s will was her command. Did he want her to sign anything? You betcha! Make declarations? Okey-dokey! Take oaths? No problem! Anne of Cleves was also free to marry whomever she wished. Under the law at that time, all her property would have become her husbands. She stayed single. And… As the king’s sister, she took precedence over all the other women at court, bar the Queen. Speaking of which…
***
Thank you Mr. Al. It’s nice to see someone escape Henry’s clutches.
Alice
Quick Banana Cream Pie
This isn’t as quick as Christina’s pie – where you pour yogurt into a pre-made pie crust, top with Cool Whip, and stick it in the freezer, but it’s quicker than traditional cream pie.
1 box Vanilla Wafers
2 or 3 bananas
1 double size (6 oz?) package banana pudding
Cool Whip
Cook up the pudding according to the directions on the package. Spread the Vanilla Wafers out inside a pie plate. Slice up the bananas. Layer the banana slices on top of the Vanilla Wafers. Pour the pudding on top. Put in the refrigerator. When it’s cool, and topping.
If you substitute instant pudding the pie won’t hold together nearly as well and tastes different.
Happy Eating
Alice
Banana Bank Lodge, Part 2
Banana Bank Lodge is owned by a Montana rancher and his wife, Carolyn Carr. Carolyn is an artist specializing in paintings of Belize people and animals. We were privileged to visit her studio.
This is what it looked like from the outside:
You can certainly see the Montana influence on the steps leading from the door to the studio. Frankly, it makes me think more Texas and New Mexico than Montana.
You can see some of her fabulous paintings along the wall here. Her work turned up in prints and on T-shirts all over Belize.
I wish I had taken a second shot of this painting so you could see how the part sticking out fit in with the rest. I had assumed incorrectly the painting would be posted on her web site.
It’s a very warm and inviting space, but I understand Carolyn’s desire from something with more light.
They are working on a new studio for her now. By the time you get there, it may be done.
Alice
Workshops on FanLit Forever
A while back I asked if anyone would be interested in having me run a workshop in The Workshop board on FanLit Forever. The response was a resounding “Yeah, sure.”
Despite the fact I am a rank amateur who has never run a workshop in her life, I’ve decided to go for it. Maybe, with luck, we can talk a published author into coming in and doing it right.
Actually, I’m going to run two at the same time. I’m calling one “Details” and will focus on wording. Not grammar or spelling! We will have to get Pollyanna to run that workshop. By wording I mean things as far flung as where to put a chapter break, how to handle dialogue tags, showing vs telling etc.
The other I’m calling “Story” and will focus on plotting, characterization, etc.
Hopefully we’ll all get something out of this. And if not, I’ll chalk it up to a learning experience.
Both workshops will begin this Monday.
Alice
Suzie’s House 22: Should Something Arise
Vin kept his eyes closed, though he wasn’t completely out of his mind on whatever drugs came through the I.V. His hospital bed tipped up enough to be comfortable. He was quite happy to lie there and eves drop on his visitors.
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“Did you at least get the license number?” Miranda sounded annoyed, and maybe a little bit desperate.
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“Um… FF8- a couple of numbers I didn’t get, and then either a 7 or a 1, but I’m not sure which.” Suzie sounded as worried as Miranda.
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Vin couldn’t figure out why Miranda expected Suzie to know the license number of the guy who shot him. But that wasn’t what he was waiting for. He was hoping they would start talking about him. Or rather, that Miranda would.
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Though much of the first few days in the hospital were a bit murky, one thing blazed clear in his mind. Miranda had kissed him. Miranda had told him she loved him.
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Who cared about license plate numbers when Miranda had finally come around?
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“It’s all right,” Drew said in his calm, steady way. “It’s enough for a start.”
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Vin could swear he heard both Miranda and Suzie sigh in relief. He cracked one eye open just a hair so he could see without letting them know he was awake. They WERE relieved. Worse, both of them stared at Drew while they sighed.
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Rats. Back to square one with Miranda.
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No. No, he was not going to take second place in Miranda’s heart. He opened his eyes all the way.
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“I can tell you his license plate number. It was FF8-357.”
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“Vin!” Miranda’s joyful relief to see him awake was highly gratifying. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze while Drew and Suzie also exclaimed happily.
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“Is that all I get? A handshake?” He raised an eyebrow at Miranda, who flushed bright red. He gave her hand a little tug, strong enough to send her in the right direction, but not enough to make her fall on him..
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She moved toward him, her expression soft as though she might kiss him, then pulled back hard.
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“Cut it out, Vin.” Miranda wrapped her arms around her middle and huffed.
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He could push it, but he did feel like it. He’d steal more kisses later. At the moment he wondered what made them all so tense about the license plate numbers/
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“Are you going to run the plates?” Vin asked Drew. What he meant was when would Drew run the plates, and would he tell Vin the results.
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“Yes. Besides going after the man who shot you, it might lead us to the Smash Master.”
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Vin shook his head. “It wasn’t anyone from the Clobber Club. It was just some guy who thought I flipped him off.”
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“Vin, I’m not so sure. Seems to me he was laying in wait for you. He followed me home.”
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“He what?!” Vin tried to sit up quickly, and nearly passed out.
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It was worth it, because Miranda jumped up and grabbed him by the shoulders to ease him back against the sheets. She smelled of Jasmine today. He liked it better than when she smelled of wisteria, or patchouli, but he liked all of her perfumes. She always put a dab in her cleavage.
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“It wasn’t like that,” Suzie said with a glare toward Drew. “When he came in the house he acted like he had run into Drew’s car and wanted to trade insurance information.”
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“He what?!” Vin’s heat monitor tapped out a nasty rat-a-tat. “The man who shot me was in our home?” Much as he might otherwise enjoy the feel of Miranda’s hands on his shoulders, he would not be kept down.
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“I know I shouldn’t have let him in, but Drew wasn’t home and I thought he would need the insurance information.”
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“You weren’t in the house alone, were you?”
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Suzie hesitated. She glanced askance at Drew, as if to call for re-enforcements.
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“Vin, calm down,” Drew said.
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So she WAS in the house alone at the time. There was no way Vin could let that go on.
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A nurse came to the door looking dismayed. “Please, don’t excite him.”
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Vin remembered the look of cold calculation on the red-headed man’s face when he walked up to Vin’s damaged taxi. The way he brought up the gun and fired. There had been none of the road rage Vin should expect. In that moment Vin knew it was a set up. The man went to Suzie’s house, rather than coming to the hospital to finish the job when Vin was vulnerable. Suzie and Miranda probably weren’t the targets. Drew was in the biggest danger. Regardless, they all needed all the help they could get.
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“I’m going home today,” he told the nurse.
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“Now Mr. Sutter, You know you can’t leave until you can go to the bathroom on your own.” She looked starchy inn her green cotton uniform with her lips pursed.
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“Yesterday you said all I had to do was fart.”
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“You have to do both. As I recall, you passed gas this morning.” The nurse inserted herself between him and Miranda.
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Vin ground his teeth, and tried not to take an instant disliking to the nurse. “All I have to do is go to the bathroom?”
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The nurse nodded.
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Vin threw back the covers.
The previous was Suzie’s House 21: Well? What Did You Decide, Drew?
This is Suzie’s House 22: Should Something Arise
Next is Suzie’s House 23: The Forgotten One
Romance In the Air
Am I the only one who sees an awful lot of Romance in the Comics lately? Check it out:
Alice
You Know You're in Montana
Things are a little different out West. People pride themselves on being strong in the face of advercity. A lot of them also take pride in their individuality, even when it takes the form of quirkyness. Strong and quirky. That’s Montana for you.
I was scanning through the local radio stations when I ran across this:
“… They are kind of an odd bunch. so I guess we have characters as well as character.”
To me, it said it all.
Alice
The Tudor Follies: How Ugly Was She?
Fresh from the keyboard of Mr. Al, here is the latest installment of the love life of Henry the VIII.
***
Henry found Anne so unpleasant that he couldn’t do his royal duty with her. No royal duty, no babies. No babies, no point to being married. But what to do? Sending Anne back to Germany would probably spark a war that England couldn’t hope to win. Keeping a wife he found so repulsive that he couldn’t stomach having sex with her was equally unacceptable. What to do? Henry didn’t know. But he did know the guy who got him into this mess and that guy had better get him out of it or he’d nail his hide to the outhouse door!
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It’s hard to muster much sympathy for a guy like Cromwell. He wasn’t as greedy as Wolsey, but then Wolsey didn’t build a career by killing people Henry didn’t like. Six innocent people died in the Anne Boleyn business alone. They were not the first, nor the last. But, like Wolsey before him, Cromwell staked all on finding Henry the wife of his dreams. Too bad for Cromwell that he let other matters cloud his judgment. Stuff like King Francis and the Emperor; Possible civil unrest, the Catholic factions, the Lutheran factions. He thought he could get away with ignoring Henry’s desire for a good looking, buxom wife. Nope.
.
When Henry finally cornered Cromwell and explained the facts to him, Cromwell was shaken. Shaken because he knew he was trapped like a rat. Deceiving Henry about Anne’s looks had been Cromwell’s project from start to finish. He tried to shift the blame onto just about anyone but himself, to no avail. Plenty of people had told Henry that Anne was a saucy number, but when Henry leaned on them, all fingers pointed to Cromwell. “He ordered us to lie to you, your Highness! He threatened us!” Henry believed them. Why not, they were telling the truth.
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Henry was doing a not so slow burn on this Anne business and Cromwell’s enemies were making sure the fire wouldn’t go out. Not that they had anything against Anne, she offended no one. But her demotion meant Cromwell’s destruction. While Cromwell worked feverishly to find a solution, the Catholic faction came up with one. A secret weapon that would guarantee that Henry would put Anne aside, put Cromwell’s head on the block and God willing, put them in the King’s good graces. The secret weapon’s name was Katherine Howard.
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Poor Anne was not going to make it as Queen. But how to get rid of her? There had been talk of a pre-contract of marriage between Anne and the son of the Duke of Lorraine. It was just talk. No such document ever turned up. But the fact that it MIGHT exist bothered Henry’s tender conscience so much that he could not bear the thought of having sex with Anne. How could he when she had been promised to another?
When no evidence turned up it was obvious to Henry that the searchers weren’t looking in the right place. And Anne? It was news to her. No one likes to be insulted about their appearance. Henry did try to be nice. He didn’t say anything to her face; In public he was the perfect gentleman. Unlike his relationship with Anne Boleyn, the public had no idea there was a problem. Part of it may have been that they were not inclined to believe bad things about her.
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As un-worldly as she was, and she was VERY unworldly, she knew something was seriously wrong. No one had explained the facts of life to her before she married Henry. She had no experience whatsoever with sex or men. She had been told that after a man and woman married, the man “did” something that caused the woman to have a baby. Anne had no idea what that something was, but she was pretty darned certain that Henry hadn’t done it yet. Poor kid.
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To the consternation of the Catholic faction, Henry made Cromwell an Earl. The new Earl of Essex seemed more in favor than ever. They didn’t know Henry very well. Henry liked to elevate his enemies before striking them down. Cromwell was still trying to get Henry to accept Anne as a suitable wife. This wasn’t going down well with Henry at all. The fact that Henry couldn’t consummate his marriage with Anne wasn’t his fault. And he could prove it. He suggested to some gentlemen that if they bothered to talk to some of the serving girls he had cornered in the pantry, they’d be happy to confirm that his Majesty was still virile.
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Perhaps Henry had meant it, but it’s hard to imagine a more dangerous thing to do in Henry’s court than to talk to serving girls about wither or not the King could still get it up. There is no evidence that anyone took Henry up on his offer. As matters transpired, they didn’t need to ask serving girls. Henry had suddenly caught sight of Katherine. The Catholic faction was beside itself. Henry had taken the bait. I don’t know if 16th century folk had any use for irony. The post-modernists of today love to act as though they invented it. They probably called it “divine justice” back then. Either way, some people must have noted that the young girl the Catholic faction was pinning it’s hopes on was first cousin to the girl that, as the first Queen Anne, had nearly destroyed it.
****
Wait a minute, Mr. Al. Are you saying Katherine Howard and Anne Boleyn were cousins? What a small world Henry inhabited. After you description of an execution from a few weeks back, I’m not sure I want to know what happened to Cromwell. As to Anne of Cleves, what did he do?
Alice
Majestic Popcorn
The first time I experienced this snack was a a foreign film at The Majestic Theater in Madison Wisconsin. I said I’d do some Madison recipes to off set the heep-big-hunter recipes so common out here. So here is one. It can be made to fit with our new FF diet thing too.
popcorn
nutritional yeast
paprika
salt
You can use popcorn from an air popper or whatever that uses minum butter/oil, but the other stuff tends to slide off. Serve up warm with nutritional yeast, paprika, and salt sprinkled on to taste.
bon appétit
Alice
Banana Bank Lodge, Part 1
Yes, more Belize pictures. I know it’s been a couple of months since I took the trip, but there are still things I haven’t blogged about. If you all will put up with me a little longer….
Banana Bank Lodge is near Belmopan, the nation’s capital, and well into the jungle. We skirted around the edges of Belmopan without actually seeing any of it. Luckily Banana Bank’s Internet site provides excellent directions, right down to pictures of turning points along the way. Good thing, too, because we would have been lost very quickly without them.
We didn’t hit this sign until we were nearly there.
This is the main building, which includes a number of guest rooms.
This is where we stayed.
Unluckily, all the shots I took of the inside came out dark and blurry.
Alice
After Hearing About a Bicycle Near-miss
“He tells me EVERYTHING. You’d think he’d know better. There are just some things a son needs to protect his mother from.”
Suzie’s House 21: Well? What Did You Decide, Drew?
The world returned to normal as Miranda looked up from her Jimmy Choo shoes. She stood in Drew’s bedroom watching Drew and Suzie stare at one another with their hearts in their eyes. Left to their own devices they would give each other up and destroy Miranda’s happy home out of noble self-sacrifice.
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“Oh come on, Drew,” Miranda said with as much bravado as she could muster. “You don’t really think the guy who tried to kill Vin followed you here, do you? How would he know it was YOUR car parked out front? It isn’t like a Lamborghini, or a T-bird or anything. There must be a million blue sedans like yours out there.”
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“Not in this neighborhood,” Drew insisted stubbornly. He released Suzie’s shoulders with such slow reluctance that envy stabbed Miranda.
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She had made her choice. She would not interfere with her best friend’s heart. Drew would never ever look at Miranda the way he looked at Suzie. Miranda accepted it, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. She shifted weight from one foot to the other and stifled a groan. Finally Drew moved away from Suzie, but only to go to the suitcase.
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“How would he know to look for it here?” Miranda went around him, trying to get between him and his open suitcase.
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“He must have taken down my license number when I caught him right after he shot Vin.” He stopped packing, a pair of pants dangling forgotten from his hands as he considered something. “Everything happened so fast. I was barreling down on the man and Vin’s taxi. He was running to his Jeep. He did look at me. I didn’t think he would recognize me again, let alone get my license number. But maybe.” Drew dropped the pants in the suitcase then headed for the dresser.
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Oh for crying out loud. Miranda sighed in exasperation. “Even if you did lead him here, and I’m not saying you did,” Miranda held a hand up and tilted her head to the side, thought Drew didn’t bother to look at her. “There’s nothing to say they wouldn’t have followed Vin here just as easily.”
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At least Miranda knew Vin would be reasonable. He wouldn’t run off and leave her and Suzie on their own just because some big, bad, nasty from his day job had dropped by..Drew hesitated with an armload of clothes from his dresser.
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“Vin is coming back here,” he said flatly.
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“Of course. In fact the doctor said they’d be sending him home tomorrow or the next day. This IS his home now. I’m sure Suzie will do a good job of taking care of him.”
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Suzie’s head came up and round fast. Apparently she hadn’t realized Vin’s care would naturally fall to her, as the only one of them who didn’t work outside the house. And not necessarily because Miranda though of her as a mommy typed. Though she did.
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“No matter how it happened, the damage is done,” Miranda said. “The red headed man knows who we are and where we live. He could come in here at any time and take us hostage to control you.”
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Drew gave her an arch look. Well, maybe he was right. Maybe she was stretching it a bit.
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“It could happen. Well, maybe not to me, but to Suzie.”
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Suzie gave her a withering look.
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“I don’t know,” Drew said speculatively, looking at Miranda through eyes narrowed in thought. “She did manage to arm herself with a hefty knife.”
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Miranda could hardly argue about that. Suzie had looked impressive standing in the front hall with a butcher’s knife in her hand.
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“The point is, Drew, if you leave, Suzie and I will be unprotected. You don’t want us to have to face the guy alone, do you?”
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Suzie brightened. “That’s right. Just because you aren’t here anymore doesn’t mean the guy will leave us alone. By now he must realize we suspect him. If he’s as bad as all that, he’ll want to get rid of us too.” Suzie was laying it on thick, but Drew seemed to eat it up, watching her with a sharp attention that pained Miranda.
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Drew shook his head. “It isn’t like that. I doubt he’s such a blood thirsty killer that he’d come in and kill everyone simply because you might suspect something.” He sounded confident enough, but his brow furrowed with worry.
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All he needed was a little push to tip him onto Miranda’s side of the argument. Miranda hoped Suzie appreciated the sacrifices she was making to keep Drew here. This constant little pricking to her ego was only going to get worse.
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“Please, Drew.” Suzie held her hand out to him. “You wouldn’t leave me when I need you, would you?”
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Drew dropped the ties in his hand onto the bed, missing the suitcase by several inches. He drifted toward Suzie, looking torn between desire and duty. He took Suzie’s fingers in his hand. Miranda watched them exchange a little squeeze. She looked away, blinking hard. She couldn’t let either of them see how much she hurt over the loss of her hopes and dreams.
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“All right. I’ll stay,” Drew said. “But we’re going to have to make a few changes around here.”
.
Drew didn’t know the half of it.
The previous was Suzie’s House 20: Miranda’s Decision
This is Suzie’s House 21: Well? What Did You Decide, Drew?
Next is Suzie’s House 22: Should Something Arise
Blogged Fiction
You all know I do the Suzie thing every Friday. I’m having a lot of fun with it and really, really appreciate all the comments people have made. Even last week when I was still fresh from surgery and didn’t say much I was quick to check out what you all had to say.
A while back ChrisJournal asked me to do a blog on the differences between something like Suzie’s House and writing a book. I’ve been thinking about it since.
Suzie certainly has an eb and flow to it, but it’s not supposed to be a book. Essentially I’ll simply keep it up as long as you all let me know you like it. I don’t have a spacific point or a particular destination in mind. To me, it’s like a TV show. Ok, maybe it’s a little more like Babylon 5 than Northern Exposure, but it’s still open ended.
I got to wondering if other people are doing what I’m doing here. For a while Ericka under her Pamdemonium blog was posting her short fiction on Fridays. She’s the only one I know posting fiction other than book teasers.
Do any of you know of any serilaized, non-book, blogged fiction out there? Anything other than book teasers?
Alice
