Ren & Wade

 Ren knew cabin fever might be setting in, but then again, they were both used to the cold and the snow living in upstate New York. Actually, it was divine back in December, but these days of January were bitter cold and gray. 

It hadn't gone so well, their visit to Wade's parents. Wade was as indifferent as he ever was and Ren knew he didn't mean it, but she could tell from the moment they arrived how much his mother missed him. After all, she'd been his teacher in life and he was her only child. Although, Ren thought all this time he had a sister or something. 

Well, it was civil enough. Nobody changed anyone's mind about trying to split them up. She guessed that was something, but even when she got back home she wasn't so sure he was happy, but she'd let it be. All those presents were still in a Christmas gift bag waiting for him to use. Ren told Roni she should have expected that.

They left after work to the thrift shops. Roni knew a new place, but Wade couldn't go. He had some jobs to do around the apartment building.

"At this rate, he could get a job there," Roni told her.

Ren nodded. He hadn't mentioned it.

"You two could get your own place, rent-free, he told me."

"Huh." It was news to her. And to think he might be majoring in engineering somewhere (according to his mother), but he wouldn't do it. It might stress him out. She kept busy looking through sweaters, trying not to think working in the apartment building would stress him out, too. 

All the sweaters she found looked better on Roni than her.

"Now stop that, hunter green looks great on you," Roni awoke her pensive state of mind. Ren wiggled a smile and said they needed to find things for Wade. 

"He won't even come with us anymore," Roni frowned.

"He's busy," what else could she say? 'LIFE IS HARD. But she didn't. It was troubling. She felt as if she needed to be busy too. She could see how exhausted he was lately. What if he decided he didn't like her anymore?

She felt a little of her heart melt. She knew she loved him. She'd never felt that about anyone, but it had nothing to do with his face or his scent, it was far greater. He was her partner and she was becoming teary-eyed.

The Boarding House - Kirby Coleman

 Kirby Coleman was on leave from his Navy duties. He'd been to far too many poker games with the guys from the Chow Hall on the ship. Their families all lived in the area, but Coleman was from Chicago and definitely not into poker. Usually, he ended up babysitting the kids. Not exactly what he wanted to do on leave. So when he found the flyer about the Boarding House, he couldn't wait to move in. The price was right, and he would have his own room. Yes, it was just temporary, but if it all worked out, he might be coming back.

When he got there, he didn't have much and yes, he met some middle-aged blonde woman who gave him paperwork to fill out. She didn't say much, and neither did he. When she found out he was in the Navy she gave him a key as if she wanted to thank him for his Navy service.

His smile was quick, and he was upstairs in the corner, not far from the community bathroom. It said MEN so he didn't feel worried. After all, he was always on his best behavior and he liked it quiet.

Soon enough he found his room to unpack. He didn't have much. Just his trusty rice cooker his Grandy gave him and a small electric kettle. Yes, Kirby was saving as much money as he could these days. Of course, he couldn't say what he was saving up for, but it was a great getaway from the guys. He could read to his heart's content. After all, he wasn't confined to a bunk. There was his trusty laptop so he could catch up on some episodes of Squid Games and even watch the latest movies on Netflix. Yeah, it felt like home, and it was for a couple of hours, but then Miss Olivia came knocking.

"Are you all settled in?" Miss Olivia was full of Southern hospitality. She invited him to dinner at six and breakfast was at six in the morning.

"Well, thank you Miss Olivia, but I just want to hang out in my room," his smile was broad. He liked reading a little then he'd do some pushups and situps. "I have my protein bars."

"What's that?" Her face snarled as she pointed to the little rice cooker on the desk.

"My Grandy gave that to me, and all these recipes," He shrugged with a laugh.

"You don't need to be cooking in here," she snapped.

"Oh." Evidently, he hadn't read the rules right. "Well, sometimes, I get hungry in the middle of the night."

"I bet you do," she was a little sassy the way she swung her hips. Before he knew it,  he felt the sting of her hand on his butt.

It startled Kirby.

"Uh, Miss Olivia? What was that for?" He squinted. Kirby didn't sign up for this.

"I just wanted to see how fit you were, you know, are you certain you're eating right?" She felt his firm biceps then. Yes, she touched his shoulders. She came in with the silliest grin. 

Kirby remained rigid. What was he supposed to do?

"Look, my Momma always told me, to mind my matters, Miss Olivia," He pulled away, but she wouldn't have it. 

When she breathed on him, he did wonder if she was a little sloshed. His face tensed, but she pulled him down to her eye level.

"Baby, you can come down to the basement, any time you like," she giggled into his ear. "I'll keep you company. Forget about that rice cooker, I'll cook you anything you like, honey."

Kirby stressed a smile and shook his head. Finally, she let go and left. Oh, it gave him a shiver and a twitchy dance. Miss Olivia hit a nerve of disgust. Kirby didn't even like women.

The Boarding House RP

 

Here is a Q&A. 

Olivia Jameison is the owner of the boarding house. She is tall, blonde and perhaps on the stout side. She says she's always been a healthy girl and grew up in Texas, but went to California in hopes of being a songwriter after leaving high school. However, it didn't last long. She found herself back in Austin in the music district better known as  6th Street was good to her for a time, but soon found some fun in Vegas, and has now inherited her old Aunt's property that was once a dorm on an old college near Corpus Christie, Texas.

So what name or names do you like to go by:

Olivia: Oh, I'll come running whatever you call me (she slaps her hand down on the arm of the cushy couch and grins. She's a bit nervous about this interview). Gawd, I've been called all sorts of things. (she bursts into laughter with a big grin, but she can't keep still as she crosses her legs, but then ends up swinging to cross her legs the other way in her tights and tunic. She picks at a loose fabric on the arm of the couch) Hell, I've even been called Momma. (She gives a bright look at the camera) Not that..that I've ever had any of my own, but you know, I'm an Auntie..and I worked as a paraprofessional on occasion. (She shrugs) Finally, she is calm as she thinks on a name) Look, people call me Livy, Livia, Liv. (she's even lipped)

Did you have to do a lot to the place before you opened?

Olivia: Not much (she won't look at the interviewer but finally looks up, yet goes back to the loose thread on the arm of the couch) You know (she shrugs) a splash of pain, here and there. (she sighs) It's a work in progress, you know.

What can your boarders expect from you while they are here?

Olivia: Well, the rooms are clean. (she practically snaps) I have breakfast at six in the morning and dinner at six in the evening, if they want it.

It's not extra?

Olivia: No sir. (She  looks a little sad when she says it.) It's the least I can do. Some of these folks don't have a lot.

What can they have in their room, if they want to make their own food?

Olivia: (she hugs herself) Well, I tell you, no air fryer, no instapot. Just an electric kettle. I guess a mini-fridge, but I'm not running no party central. (she looks a bit bug-eyed about the matter) Nothing gets past me. I check those rooms, you see! (She's a bit worked up, but then sats back hugging herself to be calm) I- I was recently diagnosed with ADHD. (she sighs) I'm afraid the medication isn't working. Just makes my face break out, you see. (her frown is small and round) I live in the basement. It's a walk-in basement, and I just go up the stairs to the kitchen every morning to start my day.

What do you like to do for fun?

Olivia: Well, there is always wine. But its for me. (she puts her hand to her chest) I don't share it with just anyone.

January Writing Prompt: A Little Fun, A Little Creepy, A Lot Too Real

Before Mick's Gram left him for good, she said he'd meet someone true next year. Of course, he didn't understand who she was talking about. Most days it felt like he was listening to someone who kept tuning in to different radio stations. At the nursing home, she'd talked of first loves, first pets, the time she got in the fight with someone's mother at a track meet when clearly his father won the broad jump.

Oh, he listened to Gram Ileen a lot. Always had. After all, she would make him waffles any time of the day and the woman clearly knew a lot about bacon because it was always perfectly crispy.

There were a lot of her secrets he didn't know and probably wouldn't now. She'd been sent to the memory unit and she didn't know him anymore.

Mick decided he'd just dream about what Gram Ileen had told him. His last breakup, he didn't see coming. Of course, she said she knew all along it wouldn't work.

"She didn't like to eat when you two went out. Always, making you suffer," she'd told him. Even so, it didn't make Mick feel any better about his situation. Mick fell in love easily, but it never seemed to last.

Here he was, nearing thirty, and hadn't started a family yet. He worked at a feed store in a country town. Yet, recently, he was either at Gram Ileen's side or trying to fix up the old house she had given him. 

Mick lived out in the country. It was a few miles out of town on Highway 67, and he was all alone. How in the hell was he supposed to meet anybody?

Then, one night, he heard something calling him. It was a bone-chilling moonlight night. He pulled on his boots and zipped up his parka just to walk down to the creek bottom. Something awful must have happened, he thought. He looked far and near with the headlight of his phone, but nothing.

Mick winced tears in the cold. He was afraid he might give up. 

Next thing he knew he awoke to his five a.m. radio clock, "Money for nothing..." rang through his bedroom. Mick sighed. He wasn't even in his boots or his parka, just his flannel bottoms and no socks. 

He went to make coffee, wondering what got him so worked up last night. Still, he knew something was calling him. Probably, a cat, he thought. It wasn't long until he was nursing creamed coffee and wishing he had more than instant oatmeal.  

Before he knew it, the day began. He headed off in his old pickup truck down the dusty road. Of course, he drove real slow by the creek bottom just to see if something awful happened. Maybe wayward teens slaughtered each other or just a javelena terrorizing a dog.  

Mick blinked. Why would he think such terror? Had something horrific happened? He didn't mention such nonsense to anyone at the feed store. Nothing ever happened at Tommie Mac's Feedstore.

Mick suddenly remembered the time Toby Jentry took a swing at him. They fought for no good reason. Mick came out of that one with a black eye and folks still thought Mick was the reason Toby jumped off the bridge and broke his neck.

Well, that was high school. Mick didn't think much about it now until he looked in the corner past the sacks of hog and sheep feed where it happened. They'd been young bucks back then with no sense of direction.

 Mick shook his head. Why in the hell was he still here and Toby wasn't?

"If only I could understand things better," he remembered telling his Gram. And she'd smoothed down his tuffs of hair with her old bony hand. Her only answer was, "Sometimes, you won't know the answer until they are long gone."

Mick nursed his bottom lip now. Tommie, from his motorized wheelchair where his tiny limp legs made a home, asked what the problem was.

"Nothing, I guess," Mick shrugged back.  

"Boy, you need to get that education," Tommie told him he had no business settling in this one-horse town. Mick just grinned. It was the usual conversation. After all, he'd stayed behind to help Tommie who came to depend on him for farm auctions and such.    

Finally, Tommie told him to go home, but Mick wouldn't go. There was a lot to do even if it didn't look like it. There were his quarter horses to feed, and hounds to tend to. All the while, Mick kept that haunting feeling that something was calling his name. Maybe.

About two before school let out, Mick saddled up Casper that Tommie trusted him with. Mick thought maybe if he checked out the creek bottom on the speckled pony was a destiny of some kind. With a jolt, he was on his way, and he dreamed of the days when his daddy rode the range with Gramps. 

But then maybe he was dreaming, by the time he got to the thicket where the water ran full, he could hear a rattler. An uneasy feeling sank to the bottom of his stomach when he saw the blood-soaked jeans with the red rising up the torso. 

Mick was awake and it was hardly alive. Honestly, he wasn't sure what it was hidden in the straw of grass. He gasped, knowing he'd have to crush the rattler with a rock before he could do anything else. 

He picked up a heavy rock and cracked the rattler's head open without a second thought. When he got closer to the water, he could see her foot was in the teeth of the trap. Mick could hardly focus as he reached for his phone in his back pocket. Thank God it was charged.

"Mick, is that you," her breathless voice asked while he was calling 911.  

"Yeah, how long, you, been this way?" He squinted. Although, all he could see was gray.

"Since yesterday," her weak voice grew raspy.

"I thought," he didn't really want to tell her about that dream. He told her the ambulance was coming to get her. Everything would be OK. He asked for her name.  Catrina.  She was Toby's little sister. She was just out walking but forgot her phone.

Her tender hands raised, reaching for him. "My brother always said you were the best," she told him. 

Mick blinked tears for no good reason. He didn't want to believe her and yet he wanted to.