Story So that your love may be complete.
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Another mystery to unravel....
I will lay odds that Clora is correct....
Texican....
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#261
Early the next morning, Joy was gone. Her car hadn't been moved, but the lady had gotten a call late at night and a car had picked her up. Warren listened as she moved quietly in her room, dressing and putting together what she needed.
Warren stood in his darkened room and watched from the window as the car drove up and the proper, key words were exchanged. He had heard the ringing phone, the familiar tone bringing him out of a deep sleep as he reached for the phone that was no longer on his nightstand. He had been retired with great finality; praise and appreciation, but retired.
It was puzzling that at her age, Joy was still working. Of course, Warren wasn't aware of her actual age, but if she was Lemmie's older sister, the woman was in her 70's. Joy was a real sharp pain in the keister, and Warren resented her intrusion in his day to day life, it was a painful reminder that he was old and out of commission. Still, he wished her a safe mission. It would have been nice, if someone had wished the same for him during the years he worked.
Warren sat in the dark room, brooding over the changes inexorably surging forward. He had never before, worried about growing older. Now, day by day it was happening and it was distressing to know the finite number of days to his life were being counted down.
Warren thought about Gail. She had pitched a major fit the morning he had left on what was to be his concluding mission with the agency. Gail had used every tactic and argument at her disposal to keep him from answering the call. He had overridden her pleading and tearful imploring, needing a selfish last rush of adrenalin and thrill of the hunt.
Less than six hours later, Gail was dead, killed by his own sons. A cruel and perhaps deserving twist of fate for him, Warren concluded. A fitting end that he would carry for the rest of his days, for disregarding her feelings.
The white haired man forgot to think about the fact that if he had stayed, he'd be dead. Later, when Warren recuperated from the initial heart surgery, he was shocked at his own behavior; that he had callously dismissed Gail with such annoyance for her objections.
Warren had to face the fact that he hadn't been in love with Gail, to the degree she was in love with him. It had created a very lop sided relationship that eventually benefited neither of them. He was also very certain Clora had picked up on that fact, but she must not have said anything to Mark. His son had not changed in the way he treated his father, and for that, Warren was grateful.
He had watched Mark and Clora deal with the disgusting mess the oldest boy had created with Meg and his family; they were involved as parents, but allowing the man to make and wallow in his own mistakes. It was certainly time for Toby, to own his personal responsibility.
Warren thought about Happy and the sons that he had created. He had missed the boat big time, in possessing his own personal responsibility. How scared she must have been, opting to marry Wilson as a way to be protected. It was inexcusable behavior on his part, now that he was looking at it from the distance he himself had created.
How his two sons had become Hall's instead of Donaldsons, he well understood. Wilson had such a fanatical hatred for him, he would have likely killed the boys in infancy if they hadn't been adopted out. Wilson would have allowed nothing that carried the taint of Warren to coexist in his life. And then there was Mark. Borg had created such a caricature of a human killing machine, even Warren, in his shadowy world of intrigue and everyday death, had been astounded at the skills Mark had used to clean the world of depravity.
And yet, the man was here with a wife and family. Humanized by Clora and love. Warren felt the debt he owed Clora was bigger than he had the capacity to express. She had created a man out of a cold blooded machine. At times, he could see and feel Mark revert to his training, like this afternoon when Mark showed him the letter, or when he had dispatched Karl and Helga so efficiently. The threat had been acknowledged and neutralized as calmly as taking out the trash. No words had ever crossed Mark's lips, the job was simply done and forgotten.
Who ever this Charles was, Warren knew his son would handle the problem
Clora believed in God, and Warren sat there wondering if God could or would ever forgive him for the actions he had taken in his life. Some day, he would have to find out. But maybe an eternity in hell would be fitting justice.
Warren had to think on that a while. It wasn't much later that he heard Clora stirring in her room, dressing for the day ahead. The woman got up at ungodly hours of the morning and made coffee, sitting with the dogs in the kitchen. To Warren it was a strange habit, but then again, who was he to call it strange, he had enough of his own that qualified.
Warren dressed and went to have coffee with Clora. She didn't talk a lot, just smiled and kept the coffee cups full. The silence suited Warren.
Early the next morning, Joy was gone. Her car hadn't been moved, but the lady had gotten a call late at night and a car had picked her up. Warren listened as she moved quietly in her room, dressing and putting together what she needed.
Warren stood in his darkened room and watched from the window as the car drove up and the proper, key words were exchanged. He had heard the ringing phone, the familiar tone bringing him out of a deep sleep as he reached for the phone that was no longer on his nightstand. He had been retired with great finality; praise and appreciation, but retired.
It was puzzling that at her age, Joy was still working. Of course, Warren wasn't aware of her actual age, but if she was Lemmie's older sister, the woman was in her 70's. Joy was a real sharp pain in the keister, and Warren resented her intrusion in his day to day life, it was a painful reminder that he was old and out of commission. Still, he wished her a safe mission. It would have been nice, if someone had wished the same for him during the years he worked.
Warren sat in the dark room, brooding over the changes inexorably surging forward. He had never before, worried about growing older. Now, day by day it was happening and it was distressing to know the finite number of days to his life were being counted down.
Warren thought about Gail. She had pitched a major fit the morning he had left on what was to be his concluding mission with the agency. Gail had used every tactic and argument at her disposal to keep him from answering the call. He had overridden her pleading and tearful imploring, needing a selfish last rush of adrenalin and thrill of the hunt.
Less than six hours later, Gail was dead, killed by his own sons. A cruel and perhaps deserving twist of fate for him, Warren concluded. A fitting end that he would carry for the rest of his days, for disregarding her feelings.
The white haired man forgot to think about the fact that if he had stayed, he'd be dead. Later, when Warren recuperated from the initial heart surgery, he was shocked at his own behavior; that he had callously dismissed Gail with such annoyance for her objections.
Warren had to face the fact that he hadn't been in love with Gail, to the degree she was in love with him. It had created a very lop sided relationship that eventually benefited neither of them. He was also very certain Clora had picked up on that fact, but she must not have said anything to Mark. His son had not changed in the way he treated his father, and for that, Warren was grateful.
He had watched Mark and Clora deal with the disgusting mess the oldest boy had created with Meg and his family; they were involved as parents, but allowing the man to make and wallow in his own mistakes. It was certainly time for Toby, to own his personal responsibility.
Warren thought about Happy and the sons that he had created. He had missed the boat big time, in possessing his own personal responsibility. How scared she must have been, opting to marry Wilson as a way to be protected. It was inexcusable behavior on his part, now that he was looking at it from the distance he himself had created.
How his two sons had become Hall's instead of Donaldsons, he well understood. Wilson had such a fanatical hatred for him, he would have likely killed the boys in infancy if they hadn't been adopted out. Wilson would have allowed nothing that carried the taint of Warren to coexist in his life. And then there was Mark. Borg had created such a caricature of a human killing machine, even Warren, in his shadowy world of intrigue and everyday death, had been astounded at the skills Mark had used to clean the world of depravity.
And yet, the man was here with a wife and family. Humanized by Clora and love. Warren felt the debt he owed Clora was bigger than he had the capacity to express. She had created a man out of a cold blooded machine. At times, he could see and feel Mark revert to his training, like this afternoon when Mark showed him the letter, or when he had dispatched Karl and Helga so efficiently. The threat had been acknowledged and neutralized as calmly as taking out the trash. No words had ever crossed Mark's lips, the job was simply done and forgotten.
Who ever this Charles was, Warren knew his son would handle the problem
Clora believed in God, and Warren sat there wondering if God could or would ever forgive him for the actions he had taken in his life. Some day, he would have to find out. But maybe an eternity in hell would be fitting justice.
Warren had to think on that a while. It wasn't much later that he heard Clora stirring in her room, dressing for the day ahead. The woman got up at ungodly hours of the morning and made coffee, sitting with the dogs in the kitchen. To Warren it was a strange habit, but then again, who was he to call it strange, he had enough of his own that qualified.
Warren dressed and went to have coffee with Clora. She didn't talk a lot, just smiled and kept the coffee cups full. The silence suited Warren.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#261b
Joy sat in the backseat of her delivery car, watching as the miles sped by. It was the rule; you weren't friendly, didn't engage the driver in conversation, and never asked where you were going. When it was time for you to know, you would be told and given adequate, critical information to do your job.
Joy had time to think about Warren. She had no idea she was about to visit a household where he was, Lemmie had said she worked for the Lindermans and Warren's last name was Donaldson.
It certainly created an awkward situation. Joy had been a senior member of a team that had to investigate Warren, Wilson and Mark. What Wilson had created by double dealing was difficult to unravel; and a lot of supervisors had been in favor of eliminating the father and son duo as a way to be sure events were tidied up.
Joy had written her report, eventually recommending that both Warren and Mark be retained as operatives, citing many instances where Wilson had meddled in agency affairs so deep, she wasn't sure her report would reach the correct supervisors. Joy had hand delivered her conclusions to her superior's superior, after sending her report into the normal channels. It was telling, that the second report never saw the light of day again.
During her investigation, Joy was impressed by the moral standing and principals Warren displayed. The nature of their work was duplicity and pretext, and most of the men she came in contact with were not to her liking.
Joy's honesty had earned her a reprimand and a censure written in her employee folder by her current supervisor, but it caught the attention of bosses higher up in the business, and she was tagged as an important player.
How Warren discovered she had been in charge of his evaluation, she didn't know; but he had been very vocal and enraged. He had been watched carefully during his final mission, and the heart problems were a handy excuse to retire the older gentleman. It was a easy, made to order way to take care of him as a problem.
The son, Joy drew a deep breath; now that one was far above her in the hierarchy of the agency and she was smart enough not to speculate, or show any interest. As it was, she was going to have to detail a report concerning her association with them in the same house. A smart woman did that to cya.
Joy did her job, and it was done well. The gun battle that happened at the very end was a punk's quick uptake to a robbery that might net him a good deal of money. Joy was shot, abused and left for dead.
It was a very different woman that was brought back to the small hotel turned house in the North Carolina mountains.
Joy had that dull, empty look in her eyes, a wound in her dominate shoulder and the hidden rage a woman feels when she has been raped. She retreated to her room and didn't come out. She had told Lemmie only the bare facts, and not all of them at that.
Lemmie told Joy that Clora had told her that she would pray for her. Joy didn't care. She didn't care about most everything at the moment, except revenge. She didn't at that time understand how Clora knew about her attack, it was secondary to the business at hand. Joy's attacker had not been apprehended, but she was never going to forget his face as it contorted with glee. He was a walking dead man.
It made Joy a very dangerous woman.
Joy sat in the backseat of her delivery car, watching as the miles sped by. It was the rule; you weren't friendly, didn't engage the driver in conversation, and never asked where you were going. When it was time for you to know, you would be told and given adequate, critical information to do your job.
Joy had time to think about Warren. She had no idea she was about to visit a household where he was, Lemmie had said she worked for the Lindermans and Warren's last name was Donaldson.
It certainly created an awkward situation. Joy had been a senior member of a team that had to investigate Warren, Wilson and Mark. What Wilson had created by double dealing was difficult to unravel; and a lot of supervisors had been in favor of eliminating the father and son duo as a way to be sure events were tidied up.
Joy had written her report, eventually recommending that both Warren and Mark be retained as operatives, citing many instances where Wilson had meddled in agency affairs so deep, she wasn't sure her report would reach the correct supervisors. Joy had hand delivered her conclusions to her superior's superior, after sending her report into the normal channels. It was telling, that the second report never saw the light of day again.
During her investigation, Joy was impressed by the moral standing and principals Warren displayed. The nature of their work was duplicity and pretext, and most of the men she came in contact with were not to her liking.
Joy's honesty had earned her a reprimand and a censure written in her employee folder by her current supervisor, but it caught the attention of bosses higher up in the business, and she was tagged as an important player.
How Warren discovered she had been in charge of his evaluation, she didn't know; but he had been very vocal and enraged. He had been watched carefully during his final mission, and the heart problems were a handy excuse to retire the older gentleman. It was a easy, made to order way to take care of him as a problem.
The son, Joy drew a deep breath; now that one was far above her in the hierarchy of the agency and she was smart enough not to speculate, or show any interest. As it was, she was going to have to detail a report concerning her association with them in the same house. A smart woman did that to cya.
Joy did her job, and it was done well. The gun battle that happened at the very end was a punk's quick uptake to a robbery that might net him a good deal of money. Joy was shot, abused and left for dead.
It was a very different woman that was brought back to the small hotel turned house in the North Carolina mountains.
Joy had that dull, empty look in her eyes, a wound in her dominate shoulder and the hidden rage a woman feels when she has been raped. She retreated to her room and didn't come out. She had told Lemmie only the bare facts, and not all of them at that.
Lemmie told Joy that Clora had told her that she would pray for her. Joy didn't care. She didn't care about most everything at the moment, except revenge. She didn't at that time understand how Clora knew about her attack, it was secondary to the business at hand. Joy's attacker had not been apprehended, but she was never going to forget his face as it contorted with glee. He was a walking dead man.
It made Joy a very dangerous woman.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac thank you for 2 more WOW!!!!!!!! chapters.
Wayne
Wayne
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Nice to get up to find this morning 
.
.PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#261c
With his room next to Joy's, Warren was aware that her phone rang at all hours. She spent an unusual amount of time talking, and suddenly delivery service trucks were showing up with boxes and packages that were taken straight to her room.
Sometimes the trucks waited and Joy sent packages back. Warren was interested, it was a diversion from the quiet sameness of the rural life style. Mark, his Dad noticed, paid no attention to the woman. As long as she kept out from underfoot, he paid her no mind. Observing Mark was the next best occupation. His son was searching for the writer of the note, and he was all consumed; stopping only when Clora gently drew him out for meals.
Warren noted that there was a lot of him, in his son, It was a deep pride he couldn't explain, to look at the lean and lank Ranger and see the competence and intelligence coupled with the danger few could understand. Mark was a legacy, and Warren liked the sounds of that.
Mark, for his part; was running names through his computer. People they had been in contact with. Constructing comprehensive family tree's, he found few men with the name Charles, many not still alive.
The next note held the same message, but carried a Canadian postmark, from Toronto. Mark was furious, but his anger never got in the way of his investigation. He had two names from their current location, but there was no tie in with dead or injured family members.
Joy was doing the same exercise, hunting the man that had abused her. She ordered a computer and used the programs and secure databases to reconstruct the man's face to the best of her ability. His image never left her awareness, and she had done a accurate job of drawing a picture of Charles.
The job that Joy completed had been in Toronto. She wasn't stupid and had taken all the precautions she could. That an opportunistic robber had at the last minute, interrupted the conclusion of her mission was an unfortunate disaster.
Joy could not go to the police with a complaint, there could be no record of her presence in Canada. Within the hour she was back in the States and under a physician's care for all the technical business concerning a rape. Coldly and methodically she built the blocks of her case. She vowed her assailant would die with the same methodical precision.
Clora worked with the younger family members, giving the triplets schooling and including Joe as he was interested. The learning was never obsessive and restrictive, and children absorbed like the sponges they were.
Lemmie cooked and cleaned, worried about Joy, smiled and blossomed with Hank's attention. She had wondered if she would ever know contentment again, and she thanked God for her blessings. Once a month she called Cody and was pleased to hear the enthusiasm and eagerness in his voice, as he talked about his studies.
Lemmie reflected on Mandy and the fact the girl had dropped out of sight and mind. Her letters to Cody were fewer and fewer, and Cody mentioned the fact to Lemmie, but he wasn't complaining. This pleased Lemmie. Right now, there was too much age difference between Cody and Mandy; a difference that wouldn't matter as they both reached maturity.
Hank was happy. The work wasn't hard, the food and bed good, and the hours way better than patrolling on the swing or night shift. The large family was well mannered, friendly and Mark was easy to live with. Wayne had rested from his downhill slide as Deputy and then undersheriff, the strenuous work more than his body could handle and he was the laid back easy going man he had been before. Besides, Lemmie was worth it. She really put a twinkle in his eye and a reason to live in his step. Hank never expected to be his age and in so much love, he was like a goofy teenager, and he was enjoying every second of it. Lemmie seemed to have a twinkle in her eye, also.
Clora was getting all of this information in a jumble of assaults on her awareness, and she had to shut some of it off.
September melded into October, the fall season invigorating as they prepared for winter.
With his room next to Joy's, Warren was aware that her phone rang at all hours. She spent an unusual amount of time talking, and suddenly delivery service trucks were showing up with boxes and packages that were taken straight to her room.
Sometimes the trucks waited and Joy sent packages back. Warren was interested, it was a diversion from the quiet sameness of the rural life style. Mark, his Dad noticed, paid no attention to the woman. As long as she kept out from underfoot, he paid her no mind. Observing Mark was the next best occupation. His son was searching for the writer of the note, and he was all consumed; stopping only when Clora gently drew him out for meals.
Warren noted that there was a lot of him, in his son, It was a deep pride he couldn't explain, to look at the lean and lank Ranger and see the competence and intelligence coupled with the danger few could understand. Mark was a legacy, and Warren liked the sounds of that.
Mark, for his part; was running names through his computer. People they had been in contact with. Constructing comprehensive family tree's, he found few men with the name Charles, many not still alive.
The next note held the same message, but carried a Canadian postmark, from Toronto. Mark was furious, but his anger never got in the way of his investigation. He had two names from their current location, but there was no tie in with dead or injured family members.
Joy was doing the same exercise, hunting the man that had abused her. She ordered a computer and used the programs and secure databases to reconstruct the man's face to the best of her ability. His image never left her awareness, and she had done a accurate job of drawing a picture of Charles.
The job that Joy completed had been in Toronto. She wasn't stupid and had taken all the precautions she could. That an opportunistic robber had at the last minute, interrupted the conclusion of her mission was an unfortunate disaster.
Joy could not go to the police with a complaint, there could be no record of her presence in Canada. Within the hour she was back in the States and under a physician's care for all the technical business concerning a rape. Coldly and methodically she built the blocks of her case. She vowed her assailant would die with the same methodical precision.
Clora worked with the younger family members, giving the triplets schooling and including Joe as he was interested. The learning was never obsessive and restrictive, and children absorbed like the sponges they were.
Lemmie cooked and cleaned, worried about Joy, smiled and blossomed with Hank's attention. She had wondered if she would ever know contentment again, and she thanked God for her blessings. Once a month she called Cody and was pleased to hear the enthusiasm and eagerness in his voice, as he talked about his studies.
Lemmie reflected on Mandy and the fact the girl had dropped out of sight and mind. Her letters to Cody were fewer and fewer, and Cody mentioned the fact to Lemmie, but he wasn't complaining. This pleased Lemmie. Right now, there was too much age difference between Cody and Mandy; a difference that wouldn't matter as they both reached maturity.
Hank was happy. The work wasn't hard, the food and bed good, and the hours way better than patrolling on the swing or night shift. The large family was well mannered, friendly and Mark was easy to live with. Wayne had rested from his downhill slide as Deputy and then undersheriff, the strenuous work more than his body could handle and he was the laid back easy going man he had been before. Besides, Lemmie was worth it. She really put a twinkle in his eye and a reason to live in his step. Hank never expected to be his age and in so much love, he was like a goofy teenager, and he was enjoying every second of it. Lemmie seemed to have a twinkle in her eye, also.
Clora was getting all of this information in a jumble of assaults on her awareness, and she had to shut some of it off.
September melded into October, the fall season invigorating as they prepared for winter.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Thanks Pac for the three chapters this morning....
Getting interesting, both Joy and Mark have adversaries to deal with....
Just maybe Warren may have feelings for Joy just like Clora indicated....
Life is like the water in a river, continuing to flow....
Pac, your writing is delightful....
Thank you....
Texican....
Getting interesting, both Joy and Mark have adversaries to deal with....
Just maybe Warren may have feelings for Joy just like Clora indicated....
Life is like the water in a river, continuing to flow....
Pac, your writing is delightful....
Thank you....
Texican....
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks for another great chapter Pac, I pray you have a Blessed Day.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#261d
Clora went into Mark's office about an hour before supper and shut the door. First she sat on the corner of the desk, then she scooted closer and pushed the papers Mark was working with, out of his reach. Then she stood behind him and massaged his back, working the horrible kink out of the back of his bad shoulder, then she pulled the chair out and sat in his lap.
"You are disturbing me terribly," Mark said in an even voice, leaning back in the chair and looking up at Clora.
"Good, that was my intention," Clora purred. "You've been in here for two weeks day and night. It's time to join the human race for a meal, and a night of sleep." Clora used her hand to smooth the hair back from Mark's forehead. "You know I love you so much for working so hard to find that crank, but we need you for our life that happens today. I need you Mark."
"You do?" he made it a question.
"Yes."
"Like this?" and he gave her a kiss.
"Humm, I'm not sure. Could we try that again? I'm having trouble making up my mind."
It took five kisses, then six or seven more. Clora made a sound of appreciation deep in her throat and when the door opened and Milo stuck his head in to tell supper was ready, Clora said, ""get out and shut the door," and his mothers tone of voice said..right now.
It was the first time Ma and Dad had kept on doing what they were doing and not paying any attention to the kids. Milo backed out confused, and went to the table to say, "they're busy."
Wayne snickered. Warren raised an eyebrow and looked at Milo. Milo was scandalized and he said "they were kissing," like it was a forbidden thing.
Teddy looked up and said, "well you make such a fuss when they kiss in the kitchen, what did you think?"
All the adults laughed, and Milo ducked his head. Actually, he wasn't sure what to think.
"Come eat," Millie said in sympathy, "Mark and Clora will come eat when they are ready."
Clora was kind of scandalized at her own behavior, and Mark had a definite wolf look to him. "I told you that you were disturbing me, I think I need an apology," his voice wasn't teasing, neither was the look he gave Clora. "Lady cat, don't start something you don't intend to finish." Clora smiled at him and made a purring noise.
Millie directed Tess to get the triplets ready for bed. Lemmie cleared the table and put the remains in the refrigerator. The rest of the family went to bed.
Inky, Red and Bootsie guarded the family during the night, although Mark had not come out to set them on.
Clora went into Mark's office about an hour before supper and shut the door. First she sat on the corner of the desk, then she scooted closer and pushed the papers Mark was working with, out of his reach. Then she stood behind him and massaged his back, working the horrible kink out of the back of his bad shoulder, then she pulled the chair out and sat in his lap.
"You are disturbing me terribly," Mark said in an even voice, leaning back in the chair and looking up at Clora.
"Good, that was my intention," Clora purred. "You've been in here for two weeks day and night. It's time to join the human race for a meal, and a night of sleep." Clora used her hand to smooth the hair back from Mark's forehead. "You know I love you so much for working so hard to find that crank, but we need you for our life that happens today. I need you Mark."
"You do?" he made it a question.
"Yes."
"Like this?" and he gave her a kiss.
"Humm, I'm not sure. Could we try that again? I'm having trouble making up my mind."
It took five kisses, then six or seven more. Clora made a sound of appreciation deep in her throat and when the door opened and Milo stuck his head in to tell supper was ready, Clora said, ""get out and shut the door," and his mothers tone of voice said..right now.
It was the first time Ma and Dad had kept on doing what they were doing and not paying any attention to the kids. Milo backed out confused, and went to the table to say, "they're busy."
Wayne snickered. Warren raised an eyebrow and looked at Milo. Milo was scandalized and he said "they were kissing," like it was a forbidden thing.
Teddy looked up and said, "well you make such a fuss when they kiss in the kitchen, what did you think?"
All the adults laughed, and Milo ducked his head. Actually, he wasn't sure what to think.
"Come eat," Millie said in sympathy, "Mark and Clora will come eat when they are ready."
Clora was kind of scandalized at her own behavior, and Mark had a definite wolf look to him. "I told you that you were disturbing me, I think I need an apology," his voice wasn't teasing, neither was the look he gave Clora. "Lady cat, don't start something you don't intend to finish." Clora smiled at him and made a purring noise.
Millie directed Tess to get the triplets ready for bed. Lemmie cleared the table and put the remains in the refrigerator. The rest of the family went to bed.
Inky, Red and Bootsie guarded the family during the night, although Mark had not come out to set them on.
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stjwelding
Veteran Member
Good for Mark and Clora for taking time for each other. Sometimes adults forget that they need to take the time to take care of the one that loves you, and needs you as much as you need and want them.
Thanks for the chapter Pac.
Wayne
Thanks for the chapter Pac.
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#261e
Charles was feeling so accomplished with his first letter from Toronto, he crafted a second, and sent it while he was enjoying the Canadian night life courtesy Of old Lucretia whats-her-names money.
He was proud of the side business he happened to fall into yesterday evening.The money the woman had wasn't all that much, he had lost his temper about the paltry sum and conducted himself ungentlemanly. He wasn't sorry, but losing control was a bad habit, one he shouldn't have allowed. The look that woman had given him, still gave him the shivers to think about it.
Joy had carefully been in contact with members of her own organization that were known to assist their comrades in matters such as this. Being a woman in war conditions, no matter which side you were on was problematic, and if you were captured you suffered. The well oiled machine of underground ladies posted Charles picture with the border patrol, in color, with an arrest warrant information sheet. They missed Charles by an hour.
That information was sent to Joy; it doubled her determination. At the least, she now knew he was an American citizen with a passport that listed his full name and address, in a state that had been destroyed by the flood. Charles Clayton as a name didn't mean anything to Joy, all she wanted a few minutes to have a little 'talk' with the man. She made further plans and put them into motion.
Between Clora and Wayne, they went back deep into their memories and helped Mark expand the search into people from their childhood. Mark had almost five hundred names by the time they were drained, unable to think of any more.
Clora felt she was missing a few people, and there was a squiggle of memory that was trying to burst into blossom, but she couldn't bring it forward. "I think I heard one time, the mention of a Charles. We were older, and it was a brother to someone I can't put a name to. Did we give you Tammy McCann's name and those of her children?" Clora checked with Mark. "Oh, it's something close to that time, I can feel it." Clora got up to walk to the window, to concentrate on the sunlight on the lake water.
In the kitchen, Teddy was telling Lemmie and Hank about the couple of hours he had spent clerking in Lucretia's store when she and her clerk had been hurt. "She was really ungrateful, demanded I show her my pockets to make sure I wasn't taking any money. The guy that was her clerk, somebody by the name of Charles, just laughed."
Warren walked in to get a coffee refill just in time to hear the word 'Charles.' "My God Teddy, where did you hear that name in town?" Warren was rapidly walking to Mark's office, not even waiting to hear Teddy's reply.
Warren knocked once and pushed his way in, "Mark, Teddy has been telling a story about a Charles, in town."
Mark was out of his chair, past Warren in the doorway, faster than Clora or Wayne could get out of their chairs.
Teddy was looking down the hall, wondering what the heck had gotten into Grandpa, when Mark came rushing out and almost scared him.
"Teddy, this is real important," Mark motioned for the second red headed brother to sit down at the table. "How do you happen to know a Charles, that was in town?" Clora had to almost push Wayne to get any speed out of him, and they finally got to the kitchen.
"He's the guy that was Mrs. Tibbs new clerk in the grocery store. Both of them got hurt during the first blast, and were laying on the grass in front of the store. People were just going in and taking things and I went in to help. Why?"
Clora as she passed slow Wayne, got there in time to hear Teddy's explanation. "Dear Lord, Cassie Pendelton had a brother by the name of Charles that was a berry farmer. Will was going to go to work for him at one time, and I think because Will wouldn't, that's the reason Will and Cassie got a divorce."
Mark was busy writing in his notebook; and Wayne had that deer in the headlight's look.
"Cassie married a Samuels, and they were the guardians of Jan and Dee; the two girls Rains had to return. The family Pete killed. Oh my, I see the tie in now." Clora went silent.
Wayne was thinking hard. "Didn't Cassie's folks live down around Eugene somewhere. But I can't remember the last name. I don't remember that particular Samuel's first name either, sorry" Wayne spread his hands in apology.
"We didn't go to Will and Cassie's wedding; it was during a very bad storm, and we had to walk, if we wanted to go. Grandma wouldn't let us. I might have been eight or nine at that time and I don't think I ever heard Cassie's last name either." Clora tried hard to recall, and was getting nothing. "I don't remember the Samuels's name, only that I was shocked that Cassie lived so close and we had never seen her out and around. That's always bothered me, and the more I think about it, I'm not sure Rains was truthful. She seemed to have told Rains about us, but it was very strange." Clora rubbed her forehead, she was starting to get a headache.
"I've got that information somewhere," Mark mentioned absently as he was thumbing through his book. "Teddy would you ask the boys if they've had any dealings with a man named Charles in town."
Teddy being the true Linderman he was, went to the foot of the stairs and bellered up, the name Charles resounding to the rafters.
Two things happened at once. Seven set of feet came clattering down the stairs one after the other and Joy's bedroom door slammed open and the woman came bursting out gun in hand.
Milo and Robert were first down the stairs and at the sight of Joy and her gun, they stopped dead still. The rest of the kids crashed into them.
The third thing that happened was Mark standing up, sweeping Clora behind him and reaching for his trusty Glock in one swift, practiced move. Mark and Joy stood fifteen feet apart, drawn down on each other.
"Drop that gun or I'll kill you where you stand," Mark's warning was flat, deadly and wicked scary. "You've got two seconds longer."
Belatedly, Joy realized what she had done and tipped her gun muzzle up. "I've got to put the safety on, if I drop it, it will discharge; it's been modified."
"Warren, get her weapon please." Mark ordered, in the same deadly tone. Speaking first names usually was a way to bring people out of the fright mode they were in during a confrontation, and get their cooperation.
Joy held her gun out at arm's length, her finger well above the trigger guard, and surrendered it to Warren.
"You've got two seconds to start talking or I will kill you anyway."
Joy started talking. "I'm looking for a Charles Clayton. He has several warrants out for his arrest."
"And why is it necessary for you to be looking for him," Mark growled. Warren realized that Mark didn't have information that Joy was an agent. He had been sequestered in the office and missed the interactions between himself and the woman.
"Mark, there are circumstances to tell you." Warren spoke up, while he was holding his breath at the same time. He could see in Mark's eyes that the killing machine was in firm control. The woman had threatened his family and right now it was 50-50 that he might kill her anyway.
"Have you found a man named Charles around here?" Joy needed to know, pressing harder than she should have pressed Mark.
"Shut up," Warren snapped, "he's not in control, you're gonna get your fool head blown off."
That's when Joy looked at Mark and saw the terrible rage in his eyes. She didn't say any more, finally understanding the predicament she was in.
It was Clora with her calm and measured voice to the rescue. "I think Clayton was Cassie's last name, don't you Wayne?"
Joy was used to giving orders and she almost snapped out, asking who Cassie was, and Warren put his hand on her arm and shook it. "Shut up. Don't say a word, he hasn't decided not to kill you yet."
The rest of the family was totally silent, mainly because they were looking at the bruises on Joy's face and arms. The woman had been beaten. Someone had done a good job.
"Wayne," Clora raised her voice slightly, "Wasn't Clayton, Cassie's last name?"
Clora started making faces at Millie, and the woman finally understood, poking Wayne in the arm. "Huh, ahh yeah," he shook off his stupor. " I guess it was, I wasn't around for the wedding, and nobody went to the hospital with them, so I'm not positive." Wayne seemed as slow as Mark to gather power over himself.
As the talk flowed around him, Mark slowly regained control. Clora moved to his right side, away from his left gun hand and let go of her 38 in her pocket. Lemmie started breathing again, and Hank took his hand off his gun.
"Please everyone, sit down and lets have something to drink," Clora invited as she stood by Mark, but not touching him. Lemmie flipped the lights back on in the kitchen and got a pitcher of tea and one of lemonade out. Glasses were put on the table, and kids that got tangled at the foot of the stairs, got untangled.
Clora took Mark outside and only then did Warren start breathing. "Lady, you have no idea how close you came to dying," he spit at Joy. "Is it apparent now, that you don't go waving a gun around in this house? What were you thinking?"
Joy badly needed to sit down, but she was dammed if she was going to sit at the table. She went to her room and closed the door. Lemmie looked at Warren and shrugged. She didn't realize Joy had been hurt like she was.
Warren rubbed his face with his hand, and Gary spoke up, telling the group, "man that was quick. Dad did that real neat and fast." and all the adults agreed nervously. Everyone downed a rapid half glass of refreshment and scattered for their rooms.
Warren was thinking he needed to get ahold of Joy and straighten her out, she had pulled a really dumb stunt. He was standing there debating if it should be tonight or if it could wait until tomorrow, when Clora touched his arm.
"Warren, don't go in there," she ordered, looking at him with warning. "No matter what right or office you feel you have, don't. In fact I am ordering you not to; and that will not be challenged or broken."
Clora issuing orders was as impressive as Mark. "You need to go to your room and let matters cool down."
Warren looked at his daughter in law for several long agonizing moments and then acquiesced with a nod of his head.
Clora said "thank you" without smiling and started walking him to his door. She was taking no chances that he might feel he had the seniority to confront Joy. "That is Mark's call," she explained to his unspoken, but thought of belief. There again, Clora spooked him with her ability.
Charles was feeling so accomplished with his first letter from Toronto, he crafted a second, and sent it while he was enjoying the Canadian night life courtesy Of old Lucretia whats-her-names money.
He was proud of the side business he happened to fall into yesterday evening.The money the woman had wasn't all that much, he had lost his temper about the paltry sum and conducted himself ungentlemanly. He wasn't sorry, but losing control was a bad habit, one he shouldn't have allowed. The look that woman had given him, still gave him the shivers to think about it.
Joy had carefully been in contact with members of her own organization that were known to assist their comrades in matters such as this. Being a woman in war conditions, no matter which side you were on was problematic, and if you were captured you suffered. The well oiled machine of underground ladies posted Charles picture with the border patrol, in color, with an arrest warrant information sheet. They missed Charles by an hour.
That information was sent to Joy; it doubled her determination. At the least, she now knew he was an American citizen with a passport that listed his full name and address, in a state that had been destroyed by the flood. Charles Clayton as a name didn't mean anything to Joy, all she wanted a few minutes to have a little 'talk' with the man. She made further plans and put them into motion.
Between Clora and Wayne, they went back deep into their memories and helped Mark expand the search into people from their childhood. Mark had almost five hundred names by the time they were drained, unable to think of any more.
Clora felt she was missing a few people, and there was a squiggle of memory that was trying to burst into blossom, but she couldn't bring it forward. "I think I heard one time, the mention of a Charles. We were older, and it was a brother to someone I can't put a name to. Did we give you Tammy McCann's name and those of her children?" Clora checked with Mark. "Oh, it's something close to that time, I can feel it." Clora got up to walk to the window, to concentrate on the sunlight on the lake water.
In the kitchen, Teddy was telling Lemmie and Hank about the couple of hours he had spent clerking in Lucretia's store when she and her clerk had been hurt. "She was really ungrateful, demanded I show her my pockets to make sure I wasn't taking any money. The guy that was her clerk, somebody by the name of Charles, just laughed."
Warren walked in to get a coffee refill just in time to hear the word 'Charles.' "My God Teddy, where did you hear that name in town?" Warren was rapidly walking to Mark's office, not even waiting to hear Teddy's reply.
Warren knocked once and pushed his way in, "Mark, Teddy has been telling a story about a Charles, in town."
Mark was out of his chair, past Warren in the doorway, faster than Clora or Wayne could get out of their chairs.
Teddy was looking down the hall, wondering what the heck had gotten into Grandpa, when Mark came rushing out and almost scared him.
"Teddy, this is real important," Mark motioned for the second red headed brother to sit down at the table. "How do you happen to know a Charles, that was in town?" Clora had to almost push Wayne to get any speed out of him, and they finally got to the kitchen.
"He's the guy that was Mrs. Tibbs new clerk in the grocery store. Both of them got hurt during the first blast, and were laying on the grass in front of the store. People were just going in and taking things and I went in to help. Why?"
Clora as she passed slow Wayne, got there in time to hear Teddy's explanation. "Dear Lord, Cassie Pendelton had a brother by the name of Charles that was a berry farmer. Will was going to go to work for him at one time, and I think because Will wouldn't, that's the reason Will and Cassie got a divorce."
Mark was busy writing in his notebook; and Wayne had that deer in the headlight's look.
"Cassie married a Samuels, and they were the guardians of Jan and Dee; the two girls Rains had to return. The family Pete killed. Oh my, I see the tie in now." Clora went silent.
Wayne was thinking hard. "Didn't Cassie's folks live down around Eugene somewhere. But I can't remember the last name. I don't remember that particular Samuel's first name either, sorry" Wayne spread his hands in apology.
"We didn't go to Will and Cassie's wedding; it was during a very bad storm, and we had to walk, if we wanted to go. Grandma wouldn't let us. I might have been eight or nine at that time and I don't think I ever heard Cassie's last name either." Clora tried hard to recall, and was getting nothing. "I don't remember the Samuels's name, only that I was shocked that Cassie lived so close and we had never seen her out and around. That's always bothered me, and the more I think about it, I'm not sure Rains was truthful. She seemed to have told Rains about us, but it was very strange." Clora rubbed her forehead, she was starting to get a headache.
"I've got that information somewhere," Mark mentioned absently as he was thumbing through his book. "Teddy would you ask the boys if they've had any dealings with a man named Charles in town."
Teddy being the true Linderman he was, went to the foot of the stairs and bellered up, the name Charles resounding to the rafters.
Two things happened at once. Seven set of feet came clattering down the stairs one after the other and Joy's bedroom door slammed open and the woman came bursting out gun in hand.
Milo and Robert were first down the stairs and at the sight of Joy and her gun, they stopped dead still. The rest of the kids crashed into them.
The third thing that happened was Mark standing up, sweeping Clora behind him and reaching for his trusty Glock in one swift, practiced move. Mark and Joy stood fifteen feet apart, drawn down on each other.
"Drop that gun or I'll kill you where you stand," Mark's warning was flat, deadly and wicked scary. "You've got two seconds longer."
Belatedly, Joy realized what she had done and tipped her gun muzzle up. "I've got to put the safety on, if I drop it, it will discharge; it's been modified."
"Warren, get her weapon please." Mark ordered, in the same deadly tone. Speaking first names usually was a way to bring people out of the fright mode they were in during a confrontation, and get their cooperation.
Joy held her gun out at arm's length, her finger well above the trigger guard, and surrendered it to Warren.
"You've got two seconds to start talking or I will kill you anyway."
Joy started talking. "I'm looking for a Charles Clayton. He has several warrants out for his arrest."
"And why is it necessary for you to be looking for him," Mark growled. Warren realized that Mark didn't have information that Joy was an agent. He had been sequestered in the office and missed the interactions between himself and the woman.
"Mark, there are circumstances to tell you." Warren spoke up, while he was holding his breath at the same time. He could see in Mark's eyes that the killing machine was in firm control. The woman had threatened his family and right now it was 50-50 that he might kill her anyway.
"Have you found a man named Charles around here?" Joy needed to know, pressing harder than she should have pressed Mark.
"Shut up," Warren snapped, "he's not in control, you're gonna get your fool head blown off."
That's when Joy looked at Mark and saw the terrible rage in his eyes. She didn't say any more, finally understanding the predicament she was in.
It was Clora with her calm and measured voice to the rescue. "I think Clayton was Cassie's last name, don't you Wayne?"
Joy was used to giving orders and she almost snapped out, asking who Cassie was, and Warren put his hand on her arm and shook it. "Shut up. Don't say a word, he hasn't decided not to kill you yet."
The rest of the family was totally silent, mainly because they were looking at the bruises on Joy's face and arms. The woman had been beaten. Someone had done a good job.
"Wayne," Clora raised her voice slightly, "Wasn't Clayton, Cassie's last name?"
Clora started making faces at Millie, and the woman finally understood, poking Wayne in the arm. "Huh, ahh yeah," he shook off his stupor. " I guess it was, I wasn't around for the wedding, and nobody went to the hospital with them, so I'm not positive." Wayne seemed as slow as Mark to gather power over himself.
As the talk flowed around him, Mark slowly regained control. Clora moved to his right side, away from his left gun hand and let go of her 38 in her pocket. Lemmie started breathing again, and Hank took his hand off his gun.
"Please everyone, sit down and lets have something to drink," Clora invited as she stood by Mark, but not touching him. Lemmie flipped the lights back on in the kitchen and got a pitcher of tea and one of lemonade out. Glasses were put on the table, and kids that got tangled at the foot of the stairs, got untangled.
Clora took Mark outside and only then did Warren start breathing. "Lady, you have no idea how close you came to dying," he spit at Joy. "Is it apparent now, that you don't go waving a gun around in this house? What were you thinking?"
Joy badly needed to sit down, but she was dammed if she was going to sit at the table. She went to her room and closed the door. Lemmie looked at Warren and shrugged. She didn't realize Joy had been hurt like she was.
Warren rubbed his face with his hand, and Gary spoke up, telling the group, "man that was quick. Dad did that real neat and fast." and all the adults agreed nervously. Everyone downed a rapid half glass of refreshment and scattered for their rooms.
Warren was thinking he needed to get ahold of Joy and straighten her out, she had pulled a really dumb stunt. He was standing there debating if it should be tonight or if it could wait until tomorrow, when Clora touched his arm.
"Warren, don't go in there," she ordered, looking at him with warning. "No matter what right or office you feel you have, don't. In fact I am ordering you not to; and that will not be challenged or broken."
Clora issuing orders was as impressive as Mark. "You need to go to your room and let matters cool down."
Warren looked at his daughter in law for several long agonizing moments and then acquiesced with a nod of his head.
Clora said "thank you" without smiling and started walking him to his door. She was taking no chances that he might feel he had the seniority to confront Joy. "That is Mark's call," she explained to his unspoken, but thought of belief. There again, Clora spooked him with her ability.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#262
Joy and her organization of highly trained and extremely efficient women found Charles first. They left him alive and unable to ever commit acts of violence as he had done to Joy. He also badly needed a doctor.
Mark was about six hours behind Joy in finding Charles. Mark took care of Charles's need for a upfront medical insurance deductible. The patrolman that found Charles in Atlanta was shocked at the man's bloodied condition; and the buzz went through the station house that they must have a band of vigilante women taking matters into their own hands.
Whoever the mutilated man was, the shot that killed him went straight through his heart. There was nothing to identify the medium build, older man with white streaks in his sandy colored hair. It was efficient, and over.
Mark had elected not to deal with Joy until he had eliminated Charles. Clora had assured him that Joy wouldn't repeat her mistake, that Clora could explain the circumstances to her husband's satisfaction when he returned.
Clora did a lot of praying about the situation. When Mark left that Monday night, she fully knew what he intended to do. Clora was also aware that there was no stopping him, and she didn't try. Mark had kissed her when he left under the cover of darkness, and they had held each other's eyes.
For right or wrong, the unreadable curtain had shuttered Mark's eyes and Clora kissed her man and sent him off to battle.
That's the reason she prayed. Previously, Mark had been open and the work he had to do registered pain. This time, it was the elimination of a worthless human and there was no reaction on Marks face. Charles had sealed his fate, the minute he put that letter in the mail.
To Mark, there was no capture and trial and sentence for sending a death threat. There was only death to the note writer.
Clora prayed harder.
Warren was sitting on the lake side bench, enjoying an afternoon bit of sunshine when Joy walked across the street and sat down. Warren was a little surprised, the woman had gone out of her way to avoid him and he usually returned the favor.
"I want to give you the opportunity to critique my performance, before Mark returns." Joy was calm, but she hadn't lost the rage and disgust she felt. "I have turned in my report, and my supervisor wants your opinion."
It was a olive branch, a turn about that would let Warren report on a woman that had reported on him. Warren didn't look at the attractive woman with the stylish white hair and the fading bruises. "I'm retired," he said easily. "I have no reason to conduct a review."
Joy felt the rush of relief, masked her reaction with indifference, and continued with a monotone recital of the facts. "I turned in my resignation. Circumstances have left me unable to work in the field, and I don't push paper."
Warren was leaned back on the bench with his elbows out to the side and resting on the top board of the weathered seat.
"Did you want to retire?" he finally asked in the same neutral tone. The empty lake fascinating.
"No, I needed something in my life, and that was work that kept me busy. I don't know what to do now." Joy sighed plaintively.
"Lemmie said I might ask Mark about staying here as a paying guest, and I wondered if you had problems with that?"
"Clora's home for retired spy's," Warren made a small joke, never taking his eyes off the lake.
"I guess."
"He worked you over pretty good, do you have internal injuries?" Warren was smooth and alluded to what he suspected, but didn't know for sure.
"I do." Joy didn't elaborate, Warren wasn't on her list of people that needed to know her physical and mental health conditions.
Warren didn't pursue the questioning, she wouldn't tell him anyway. "I wouldn't make any plans until you talk to Mark," was all he said."
Joy accepted the information silently. What else could she do.
"How do you handle the loss of adrenalin, I never knew I needed it, until I had to deal without it in the future?" she asked the tall, thin Donaldson man. She was curious why Warren and his son had different last names, but would never ask. Warren didn't seem like a chap you could strike up a warm and fuzzy conversation with.
"I haven't dealt with the loss, well." he had that same measured tone. Again, the lake view was compelling.
Joy sat for a few more silent minutes and then got up and walked back to the house.
Clora was watching them from her room window. Hurting souls, she could feel.
Mark came in late Thursday night, getting into the house and bed before the weight of another body beside her, woke Clora up.
She reached out her arms and gathered in her beloved husband.
Mark had called in to his supervisor and the problem with Joy had been taken care of with internal affairs. He didn't spare her another thought.
Joy approached Mark and Clora about renting a room, saying she needed a place to stay. Mark deferred to Clora, totally uninterested in interacting, and the woman rented the room and promptly left the house, driving away the next afternoon.
Joy drove to Chicago, parked in her assigned condo spot and went up to her calm and cool apartment. She didn't know what to do with herself. In desperation, she went to the headquarters for her division and asked for mental health help. She couldn't get past what had happened.
Joy and her organization of highly trained and extremely efficient women found Charles first. They left him alive and unable to ever commit acts of violence as he had done to Joy. He also badly needed a doctor.
Mark was about six hours behind Joy in finding Charles. Mark took care of Charles's need for a upfront medical insurance deductible. The patrolman that found Charles in Atlanta was shocked at the man's bloodied condition; and the buzz went through the station house that they must have a band of vigilante women taking matters into their own hands.
Whoever the mutilated man was, the shot that killed him went straight through his heart. There was nothing to identify the medium build, older man with white streaks in his sandy colored hair. It was efficient, and over.
Mark had elected not to deal with Joy until he had eliminated Charles. Clora had assured him that Joy wouldn't repeat her mistake, that Clora could explain the circumstances to her husband's satisfaction when he returned.
Clora did a lot of praying about the situation. When Mark left that Monday night, she fully knew what he intended to do. Clora was also aware that there was no stopping him, and she didn't try. Mark had kissed her when he left under the cover of darkness, and they had held each other's eyes.
For right or wrong, the unreadable curtain had shuttered Mark's eyes and Clora kissed her man and sent him off to battle.
That's the reason she prayed. Previously, Mark had been open and the work he had to do registered pain. This time, it was the elimination of a worthless human and there was no reaction on Marks face. Charles had sealed his fate, the minute he put that letter in the mail.
To Mark, there was no capture and trial and sentence for sending a death threat. There was only death to the note writer.
Clora prayed harder.
Warren was sitting on the lake side bench, enjoying an afternoon bit of sunshine when Joy walked across the street and sat down. Warren was a little surprised, the woman had gone out of her way to avoid him and he usually returned the favor.
"I want to give you the opportunity to critique my performance, before Mark returns." Joy was calm, but she hadn't lost the rage and disgust she felt. "I have turned in my report, and my supervisor wants your opinion."
It was a olive branch, a turn about that would let Warren report on a woman that had reported on him. Warren didn't look at the attractive woman with the stylish white hair and the fading bruises. "I'm retired," he said easily. "I have no reason to conduct a review."
Joy felt the rush of relief, masked her reaction with indifference, and continued with a monotone recital of the facts. "I turned in my resignation. Circumstances have left me unable to work in the field, and I don't push paper."
Warren was leaned back on the bench with his elbows out to the side and resting on the top board of the weathered seat.
"Did you want to retire?" he finally asked in the same neutral tone. The empty lake fascinating.
"No, I needed something in my life, and that was work that kept me busy. I don't know what to do now." Joy sighed plaintively.
"Lemmie said I might ask Mark about staying here as a paying guest, and I wondered if you had problems with that?"
"Clora's home for retired spy's," Warren made a small joke, never taking his eyes off the lake.
"I guess."
"He worked you over pretty good, do you have internal injuries?" Warren was smooth and alluded to what he suspected, but didn't know for sure.
"I do." Joy didn't elaborate, Warren wasn't on her list of people that needed to know her physical and mental health conditions.
Warren didn't pursue the questioning, she wouldn't tell him anyway. "I wouldn't make any plans until you talk to Mark," was all he said."
Joy accepted the information silently. What else could she do.
"How do you handle the loss of adrenalin, I never knew I needed it, until I had to deal without it in the future?" she asked the tall, thin Donaldson man. She was curious why Warren and his son had different last names, but would never ask. Warren didn't seem like a chap you could strike up a warm and fuzzy conversation with.
"I haven't dealt with the loss, well." he had that same measured tone. Again, the lake view was compelling.
Joy sat for a few more silent minutes and then got up and walked back to the house.
Clora was watching them from her room window. Hurting souls, she could feel.
Mark came in late Thursday night, getting into the house and bed before the weight of another body beside her, woke Clora up.
She reached out her arms and gathered in her beloved husband.
Mark had called in to his supervisor and the problem with Joy had been taken care of with internal affairs. He didn't spare her another thought.
Joy approached Mark and Clora about renting a room, saying she needed a place to stay. Mark deferred to Clora, totally uninterested in interacting, and the woman rented the room and promptly left the house, driving away the next afternoon.
Joy drove to Chicago, parked in her assigned condo spot and went up to her calm and cool apartment. She didn't know what to do with herself. In desperation, she went to the headquarters for her division and asked for mental health help. She couldn't get past what had happened.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
You never cease to amaze me Pac. Thank you for the chapters.
Wayne
Wayne
teedee
Veteran Member
Normally I do not like stories that have multiple story lines that all interact. But darn I sure like the way you do it so seamless a manner. I have been trying to stay away for a day or so but am finding it VERY hard to do that. You have a real talent and I am so glad that you are sharing that talent with us. I hope you are having as much fun writing as we all are having reading! Thank you dear lady!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#262b
Clora was sure that Mark would sleep almost all day. That was a peculiarity she had noticed when he was so focused on a problem. When it was solved and he felt safe, he could sleep the clock around. The Linderman household was not a quiet house with doors banging, kids yelling and life as it happened to a large family. Mark was disturbed by none of it.
Clora had more trouble with Warren than anyone else. The father felt he deserved a debriefing, and he stomped around in a snit when Clora guarded the bedroom door.
Unyielding, she sent Warren outside, laughing when he growled at her; "I don't think I like you very much." Clora smiled that confounded serene smile and pointed to the door. Warren went outside muttering just loud enough for Clora to hear. "Disrespected, right in my own son's home by his wife. What a sorry state of affairs." It bothered Clora not in the least.
Today was the day Clora and Lemmie did the final pantry inventory for the upcoming winter. They needed a lot, and it gave Clora the shivers to be so low on stored food. She had honored Mark's wish that she not work so hard, and now that was worth second thoughts. Clora wore a frown almost all day long, as she tallied and counted.
There was no way around the storage problem. They needed to use the last of the empty upstairs rooms to house the amount they needed for winter. Clora, Millie and Lemmie sat at the table and planned. "That's three ton of canned goods only," Lemmie had gasped. "When you look at it all at once it's frightening."
"The main problem that I see, we really don't have a good garden area." Clora doodled on her paper. "The back yard area I want to save as a lawn and play yard. I won't have the kids out front, so close to the road. We don't have a shop, or shed for the machinery, or much of a barn for hay and animal storage. I've been toying with the idea of renting a dozer and having Wayne flatten out that little knoll to the left of the lawn. That might give us a level area to build what we need, but to back up, I have to ask Mark if he's comfortable here and wants to put that much money into improvements."
"Millie, my next question is for you. Are you and Wayne comfortable here, are you thinking of moving into your own place? I'd like you to talk with Wayne and get back to us with your long range plans. Mark and I are totally comfortable with you being here, and we are not inviting you to leave, I wanted to make that clear." Clora smiled at Millie, reinforcing her words.
"Right now, we have no long range plans," Millie admitted. "We were talking about this the other day and Wayne mentioned that he wondered if you were comfortable putting money into improvements. It seems like you fix a place up, and then have to leave for one reason or another. How much can you stand?"
"I'm not sure, that's a very good question. I'll talk to Mark when he gets up; and I know he would like Warren to be with us, but I'm not sure we will be able to hold him. Warren is very urban and sophisticated and I worry he is bored here."
The ladies nodded. They had seen the signs.
Warren had come back across the street to sit in the shade by the open front door, and he was listening to the ladies talk. As usual, Clora was very perceptive." he thought.
"Lemmie, how about Joy? How is she doing and would she want to live here or be willing to go with us if we moved?"
"I don't know. She paid a year's rent here, didn't she?"
Clora nodded. "We of course would refund her money, if she chose not too."
Lemmie leaned close and told Clora and Millie what had happened and that Joy wasn't handling it well. Her low voice went to soft for Warren to hear, but it was a confirmation of what he suspected.
"Joy is having some real legal troubles on top of all this," Lemmie said in a more normal voice. "Her ex husband made her Administrator of his estate, bypassing his brother who expected the job and to inherit the considerable amount. The brother is challenging every move Joy makes in the courts, even though her ex had a will and spelled his wishes out. I'm worried about her, she sounds so defeated when she calls, although she's never said a word about being depressed. That leads me to ask, would it be possible for me to have Thanksgiving off thru Monday. I want to go up to Chicago and see her."
"Certainly," Clora was more than agreeable. "Any time you need time off Lemmie, let us know."
"I might ask for a whole week," Lemmie teased. "We could come back through West Virginia and visit my son, and Hank has a daughter in Boone he hasn't seen in quite a while."
"Why don't you plan on it," Clora was smiling. "It's so important to keep family ties strong. That's the real riches in a life."
Warren was learning a lot. He hadn't known that Joy lived in Chicago, and his interest perked up. After all, Warren reasoned, he was a lawyer, and he was licensed to practice in Illinois. Warren wasn't sure if he was interested interested, or interested in a professional offer of services. Maybe a little of both, he decided.
The ladies started talking about grocery stores and it was boring to Warren, he drifted off to sleep.
Joe and John got in a squabble, and mothers fed the children lunch and then down for a quiet time or nap.
Clora was sure that Mark would sleep almost all day. That was a peculiarity she had noticed when he was so focused on a problem. When it was solved and he felt safe, he could sleep the clock around. The Linderman household was not a quiet house with doors banging, kids yelling and life as it happened to a large family. Mark was disturbed by none of it.
Clora had more trouble with Warren than anyone else. The father felt he deserved a debriefing, and he stomped around in a snit when Clora guarded the bedroom door.
Unyielding, she sent Warren outside, laughing when he growled at her; "I don't think I like you very much." Clora smiled that confounded serene smile and pointed to the door. Warren went outside muttering just loud enough for Clora to hear. "Disrespected, right in my own son's home by his wife. What a sorry state of affairs." It bothered Clora not in the least.
Today was the day Clora and Lemmie did the final pantry inventory for the upcoming winter. They needed a lot, and it gave Clora the shivers to be so low on stored food. She had honored Mark's wish that she not work so hard, and now that was worth second thoughts. Clora wore a frown almost all day long, as she tallied and counted.
There was no way around the storage problem. They needed to use the last of the empty upstairs rooms to house the amount they needed for winter. Clora, Millie and Lemmie sat at the table and planned. "That's three ton of canned goods only," Lemmie had gasped. "When you look at it all at once it's frightening."
"The main problem that I see, we really don't have a good garden area." Clora doodled on her paper. "The back yard area I want to save as a lawn and play yard. I won't have the kids out front, so close to the road. We don't have a shop, or shed for the machinery, or much of a barn for hay and animal storage. I've been toying with the idea of renting a dozer and having Wayne flatten out that little knoll to the left of the lawn. That might give us a level area to build what we need, but to back up, I have to ask Mark if he's comfortable here and wants to put that much money into improvements."
"Millie, my next question is for you. Are you and Wayne comfortable here, are you thinking of moving into your own place? I'd like you to talk with Wayne and get back to us with your long range plans. Mark and I are totally comfortable with you being here, and we are not inviting you to leave, I wanted to make that clear." Clora smiled at Millie, reinforcing her words.
"Right now, we have no long range plans," Millie admitted. "We were talking about this the other day and Wayne mentioned that he wondered if you were comfortable putting money into improvements. It seems like you fix a place up, and then have to leave for one reason or another. How much can you stand?"
"I'm not sure, that's a very good question. I'll talk to Mark when he gets up; and I know he would like Warren to be with us, but I'm not sure we will be able to hold him. Warren is very urban and sophisticated and I worry he is bored here."
The ladies nodded. They had seen the signs.
Warren had come back across the street to sit in the shade by the open front door, and he was listening to the ladies talk. As usual, Clora was very perceptive." he thought.
"Lemmie, how about Joy? How is she doing and would she want to live here or be willing to go with us if we moved?"
"I don't know. She paid a year's rent here, didn't she?"
Clora nodded. "We of course would refund her money, if she chose not too."
Lemmie leaned close and told Clora and Millie what had happened and that Joy wasn't handling it well. Her low voice went to soft for Warren to hear, but it was a confirmation of what he suspected.
"Joy is having some real legal troubles on top of all this," Lemmie said in a more normal voice. "Her ex husband made her Administrator of his estate, bypassing his brother who expected the job and to inherit the considerable amount. The brother is challenging every move Joy makes in the courts, even though her ex had a will and spelled his wishes out. I'm worried about her, she sounds so defeated when she calls, although she's never said a word about being depressed. That leads me to ask, would it be possible for me to have Thanksgiving off thru Monday. I want to go up to Chicago and see her."
"Certainly," Clora was more than agreeable. "Any time you need time off Lemmie, let us know."
"I might ask for a whole week," Lemmie teased. "We could come back through West Virginia and visit my son, and Hank has a daughter in Boone he hasn't seen in quite a while."
"Why don't you plan on it," Clora was smiling. "It's so important to keep family ties strong. That's the real riches in a life."
Warren was learning a lot. He hadn't known that Joy lived in Chicago, and his interest perked up. After all, Warren reasoned, he was a lawyer, and he was licensed to practice in Illinois. Warren wasn't sure if he was interested interested, or interested in a professional offer of services. Maybe a little of both, he decided.
The ladies started talking about grocery stores and it was boring to Warren, he drifted off to sleep.
Joe and John got in a squabble, and mothers fed the children lunch and then down for a quiet time or nap.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
As always a nice treat in the morning .
.PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#262c
Clora had a long list of questions to ask Mark, and she decided a fast way to get to the point was write a list and put a 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe' behind the question for a check mark. She left the paper on his desk.
Mark got up in time to eat, and was able to answer enough of Warren's questions that his Dad stopped the nervous pacing of the floor. Mark was relaxed and casual at supper, the tiny laugh lines around his eyes crinkling in pleasure as the kids related funny school stories. He had to have Luke, Liz, John and Sam on his lap as soon as he finished eating. They couldn't wait any longer.
Clora was looking at Mark, thinking how fine he looked, and darned if Mark wasn't thinking the same of Clora. They finally got the last of their dawdling children off to bed, and walked down the hall.
Mark looked at the list of questions and said "tomorrow," with a firm voice.
The next morning Clora was up before dawn, drinking coffee with Inky, Red and Bootsie. Mark came wandering in, yawning and scratching, smiling with pleasure at the cup Clora filled for him. "Ahhh."
"No wonder our children do that," Clora said in a whisper, shaking her head. "Mark, I happened to think of a very important thought that I forgot to put on the list. Would you have time today to sweep the house and cars for listening devices and transmitters?"
Mark went very still and then went running back to the bedroom. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen Mark Linderman in his lounge pants dashing outside to check his pickup. He found three. Cursing under his breath for his stupidity, he stopped the paper boy as the kids was delivering and stealthily sent the locators home with the young man.
"What made you think of that?" he questioned Clora, as they finished their coffee and watched the strip of light under the door in Lemmie's room flip on.
"I don't know, I woke up thinking about that."
"There were three on my pickup," Mark felt weary. "So they were either put on here, or where I went. That doesn't make me very happy to know that someone is keeping track of me or us. I thought we had left that behind. I'll get dressed and do the house."
There were none in the house, but several in the bus and the stock trailer. Mark hoped they were leftovers from Karl and Helga, but he wasn't going to take that to the bank.
"What's going to happen to their pickup, can we claim it?" Clora asked, watching Mark's reaction.
"You're just full of details that I over looked, aren't you?" Mark sat at the table, finishing his lunch soup.
"I was thinking I might like to learn to drive it." Clora was so nonchalant, Mark wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "After I get my cast off," Clora qualified sweetly.
Clora had a long list of questions to ask Mark, and she decided a fast way to get to the point was write a list and put a 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe' behind the question for a check mark. She left the paper on his desk.
Mark got up in time to eat, and was able to answer enough of Warren's questions that his Dad stopped the nervous pacing of the floor. Mark was relaxed and casual at supper, the tiny laugh lines around his eyes crinkling in pleasure as the kids related funny school stories. He had to have Luke, Liz, John and Sam on his lap as soon as he finished eating. They couldn't wait any longer.
Clora was looking at Mark, thinking how fine he looked, and darned if Mark wasn't thinking the same of Clora. They finally got the last of their dawdling children off to bed, and walked down the hall.
Mark looked at the list of questions and said "tomorrow," with a firm voice.
The next morning Clora was up before dawn, drinking coffee with Inky, Red and Bootsie. Mark came wandering in, yawning and scratching, smiling with pleasure at the cup Clora filled for him. "Ahhh."
"No wonder our children do that," Clora said in a whisper, shaking her head. "Mark, I happened to think of a very important thought that I forgot to put on the list. Would you have time today to sweep the house and cars for listening devices and transmitters?"
Mark went very still and then went running back to the bedroom. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen Mark Linderman in his lounge pants dashing outside to check his pickup. He found three. Cursing under his breath for his stupidity, he stopped the paper boy as the kids was delivering and stealthily sent the locators home with the young man.
"What made you think of that?" he questioned Clora, as they finished their coffee and watched the strip of light under the door in Lemmie's room flip on.
"I don't know, I woke up thinking about that."
"There were three on my pickup," Mark felt weary. "So they were either put on here, or where I went. That doesn't make me very happy to know that someone is keeping track of me or us. I thought we had left that behind. I'll get dressed and do the house."
There were none in the house, but several in the bus and the stock trailer. Mark hoped they were leftovers from Karl and Helga, but he wasn't going to take that to the bank.
"What's going to happen to their pickup, can we claim it?" Clora asked, watching Mark's reaction.
"You're just full of details that I over looked, aren't you?" Mark sat at the table, finishing his lunch soup.
"I was thinking I might like to learn to drive it." Clora was so nonchalant, Mark wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "After I get my cast off," Clora qualified sweetly.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks for another great chapter Pac.
Wayne
Wayne
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
A gal needs to teach Clora how to drive. Mark would not be able to handle it LOL.
Thank you for the chapters dear lady : )
Thank you for the chapters dear lady : )
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#262d
"Can I make the pickup a maybe," Mark asked, "I don't want to push any buttons or cause any reconsiderations by the Sheriff's Department. Where the pickup was located was in South Carolina, so their dept. investigated; and they run their offices differently than we do here."
"Sure, I was wondering what might happen to it, that's all." Clora got Liz down from the table. John was next and Clora put her hand on top of his head to hold him still while she washed his face.. She froze, then moved her hand away and passed it back over John once again.
From the alarmed and sick look she had on her face, it was easy for Mark to guess what Clora had felt. John must have another tumor.
Neither Mark or Clora could have told what the rest of the family was doing, they were staring with that dreaded feeling in the pit of their stomach's at John. John hollered, he wanted down, and Ma was taking a long time. Clora put John on the floor and he headed for the living room.
Clora felt around behind her for a chair and crumpled into the seat. She was staring at the dirty dish left on the table but in reality, not seeing it. Holding her head with her hand, Clora started silently praying.
Mark looked like he had taken a blow to the stomach and to his heart. "I'll call tomorrow," he said softly. "This time I think we should go to the Mayo Clinic."
Clora looked up and nodded.
Mark had Clora's list with him and number five was; talk to Warren about the Rhodium. Mark went looking for his father.
Warren shrugged, "I wasn't worried. I figured you still had it, or had needed to use it. Either way it will be yours eventually. I'm actually far more interested in that scene you and Clora just went through. What happened?"
"We think John has another tumor." Mark could hardly say the words. Warren could hardly believe them.
"Son of a......." Warren couldn't finish the swear word, it felt like the news wrapped icy fingers curling around his heart. "It hasn't been what...two months?"
"Yeah, a little over. I want to take him to the Mayo Clinic this time."
Warren agreed. "That's where I had my heart surgery, they repaired a lot of my old heart to keep me going. Good surgeons. I think you'd better keep the metal, your gonna need it." Warren recommended.
"Yeah," Mark said softly once again. "The last bill was over a hundred and fifty thousand."
"That sounds like a good round number, I was a little over that myself."
"I need to contact the Prince and see if he wants to purchase any, other wise I need to find a broker. We backed off from putting the metal out on the public market, because we didn't want to lead Pete to us. I guess we don't need to worry now. He was right here all along. I talked to the Prince once, and then never followed up. So tell me, if he's interested, how much do you want to liquidate?"
"A nice round number, probably as many of the bars as he will be interested in. The coins are more common and a lower denomination amount, so I'd like to leave them for last. I would think they'd be easier to sell." Warren scratched his chin.
They stopped talking about the Rhodium as Wayne was approaching.
"Hey,"
"Hey yourself, pull up a chair." Mark invited
"Millie said Clora asked this morning what our long range plans were. Nothing concrete, but I need to look for a job now that I'm feeling better. It seems like I'm in a hurry to catch the Hansons up to the Lindermans in family size. I've heard of a job running a maintainer, and go in tomorrow for an interview. The rest of the 'if' and 'when' depend on the 'where' I might be stationed. The job's in South Carolina, I can't shake anything out of the bushes around here." Wayne shook his head in frustration.
"Good Luck," Warren intoned, "jobs and hard to come by these days."
"The county down there has a policy that the driver's have to live within a half hour commute; that pretty much cancels out living here. If the road around the lake were better, I might be able to squeak in; but not in the condition it's in presently. I did a time test and it's a good fifty minutes. The supervisor would never allow that."
"According to Clora, she's asking if I want to live here and do the expense of barn, shop and machine shed; or try and find a place that suits us better. I frankly don't have a stinkin clue. A place with the room we need, is a rare animal. You don't find them every day, and we could winter here with little extra expense. Some kind of hay shed is really all we need." Mark didn't want to take on finding another farm while they were having problems with John.
Mark explained what Clora had found at supper, and Wayne was shaking his head in sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. Tough break."
"I'm calling for an appointment tomorrow, that sets the tone for everything else. I imagine we're looking at least six weeks or better out." Mark said glumly.
The other two men agreed.
The Rochester, Minnesota Clinic was three months booked. The soonest appointment was the first week in January. Mark took it, intending to schedule a second, more current visit wherever he could find it. For some reason, Clora didn't want to go back to Ashville, so he worked at finding a cancer center close.
Warren retreated to the lake side bench and didn't pressure Mark and Clora, sitting and napping in the last days of sunshine. It was the third week in October, and Joy showed up late that Sunday afternoon. There was a stiff wind with rainy spells all day long. Fall was ending.
The teens were helping Wayne and Millie move to Greenville. To satisfy Wayne's new job, he and Millie had rented a modest house in a subdivision next to the park and playground. Mark had gone to drive his pickup, and the strong young men made short work of the household boxes, they didn't have much, none of them did.
Mark had promised hamburgers in town and Hank and Lemmie were off visiting for the afternoon. Clora watched the four youngest kids play in the large combination dining room/living room, cars and blocks. Sam was more than content to sit and play with the triplets, a first grader, he was doing well in school, but not really interested in running with his brothers. They asked, and he said no, he'd stay home today.
Warren was cat napping and Joy arrived with little fanfare. Clora had her foot up on the hassock, and went to stand up to help Joy in with her bags. Joy waved her down, pointing sternly to the chair. John and Liz were napping on the floor, their energy run out.
Warren stood up, and the look that passed between he and Joy was noted by Clora. Nothing was said, but Joy wouldn't let him take her suitcase. "There are two more in the car, thank you, I appreciate it." Joy was formal, as she sent Warren to get them.
"Can I make the pickup a maybe," Mark asked, "I don't want to push any buttons or cause any reconsiderations by the Sheriff's Department. Where the pickup was located was in South Carolina, so their dept. investigated; and they run their offices differently than we do here."
"Sure, I was wondering what might happen to it, that's all." Clora got Liz down from the table. John was next and Clora put her hand on top of his head to hold him still while she washed his face.. She froze, then moved her hand away and passed it back over John once again.
From the alarmed and sick look she had on her face, it was easy for Mark to guess what Clora had felt. John must have another tumor.
Neither Mark or Clora could have told what the rest of the family was doing, they were staring with that dreaded feeling in the pit of their stomach's at John. John hollered, he wanted down, and Ma was taking a long time. Clora put John on the floor and he headed for the living room.
Clora felt around behind her for a chair and crumpled into the seat. She was staring at the dirty dish left on the table but in reality, not seeing it. Holding her head with her hand, Clora started silently praying.
Mark looked like he had taken a blow to the stomach and to his heart. "I'll call tomorrow," he said softly. "This time I think we should go to the Mayo Clinic."
Clora looked up and nodded.
Mark had Clora's list with him and number five was; talk to Warren about the Rhodium. Mark went looking for his father.
Warren shrugged, "I wasn't worried. I figured you still had it, or had needed to use it. Either way it will be yours eventually. I'm actually far more interested in that scene you and Clora just went through. What happened?"
"We think John has another tumor." Mark could hardly say the words. Warren could hardly believe them.
"Son of a......." Warren couldn't finish the swear word, it felt like the news wrapped icy fingers curling around his heart. "It hasn't been what...two months?"
"Yeah, a little over. I want to take him to the Mayo Clinic this time."
Warren agreed. "That's where I had my heart surgery, they repaired a lot of my old heart to keep me going. Good surgeons. I think you'd better keep the metal, your gonna need it." Warren recommended.
"Yeah," Mark said softly once again. "The last bill was over a hundred and fifty thousand."
"That sounds like a good round number, I was a little over that myself."
"I need to contact the Prince and see if he wants to purchase any, other wise I need to find a broker. We backed off from putting the metal out on the public market, because we didn't want to lead Pete to us. I guess we don't need to worry now. He was right here all along. I talked to the Prince once, and then never followed up. So tell me, if he's interested, how much do you want to liquidate?"
"A nice round number, probably as many of the bars as he will be interested in. The coins are more common and a lower denomination amount, so I'd like to leave them for last. I would think they'd be easier to sell." Warren scratched his chin.
They stopped talking about the Rhodium as Wayne was approaching.
"Hey,"
"Hey yourself, pull up a chair." Mark invited
"Millie said Clora asked this morning what our long range plans were. Nothing concrete, but I need to look for a job now that I'm feeling better. It seems like I'm in a hurry to catch the Hansons up to the Lindermans in family size. I've heard of a job running a maintainer, and go in tomorrow for an interview. The rest of the 'if' and 'when' depend on the 'where' I might be stationed. The job's in South Carolina, I can't shake anything out of the bushes around here." Wayne shook his head in frustration.
"Good Luck," Warren intoned, "jobs and hard to come by these days."
"The county down there has a policy that the driver's have to live within a half hour commute; that pretty much cancels out living here. If the road around the lake were better, I might be able to squeak in; but not in the condition it's in presently. I did a time test and it's a good fifty minutes. The supervisor would never allow that."
"According to Clora, she's asking if I want to live here and do the expense of barn, shop and machine shed; or try and find a place that suits us better. I frankly don't have a stinkin clue. A place with the room we need, is a rare animal. You don't find them every day, and we could winter here with little extra expense. Some kind of hay shed is really all we need." Mark didn't want to take on finding another farm while they were having problems with John.
Mark explained what Clora had found at supper, and Wayne was shaking his head in sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. Tough break."
"I'm calling for an appointment tomorrow, that sets the tone for everything else. I imagine we're looking at least six weeks or better out." Mark said glumly.
The other two men agreed.
The Rochester, Minnesota Clinic was three months booked. The soonest appointment was the first week in January. Mark took it, intending to schedule a second, more current visit wherever he could find it. For some reason, Clora didn't want to go back to Ashville, so he worked at finding a cancer center close.
Warren retreated to the lake side bench and didn't pressure Mark and Clora, sitting and napping in the last days of sunshine. It was the third week in October, and Joy showed up late that Sunday afternoon. There was a stiff wind with rainy spells all day long. Fall was ending.
The teens were helping Wayne and Millie move to Greenville. To satisfy Wayne's new job, he and Millie had rented a modest house in a subdivision next to the park and playground. Mark had gone to drive his pickup, and the strong young men made short work of the household boxes, they didn't have much, none of them did.
Mark had promised hamburgers in town and Hank and Lemmie were off visiting for the afternoon. Clora watched the four youngest kids play in the large combination dining room/living room, cars and blocks. Sam was more than content to sit and play with the triplets, a first grader, he was doing well in school, but not really interested in running with his brothers. They asked, and he said no, he'd stay home today.
Warren was cat napping and Joy arrived with little fanfare. Clora had her foot up on the hassock, and went to stand up to help Joy in with her bags. Joy waved her down, pointing sternly to the chair. John and Liz were napping on the floor, their energy run out.
Warren stood up, and the look that passed between he and Joy was noted by Clora. Nothing was said, but Joy wouldn't let him take her suitcase. "There are two more in the car, thank you, I appreciate it." Joy was formal, as she sent Warren to get them.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you .
.Thank You Thank Thank You PAC - These stories are so engrossing - great for entertainment
as well as whatever ails a person!!!! Mark and Clora are so inspiring to a person - and the
bonded extended family are such a delight to read about. The Cliff Hangers sure can be startling!!!
Hope the story goes on forever and ever!
as well as whatever ails a person!!!! Mark and Clora are so inspiring to a person - and the
bonded extended family are such a delight to read about. The Cliff Hangers sure can be startling!!!
Hope the story goes on forever and ever!