#52weeks52stories “John & Stella – A Limerick”

theives

Weird week. Hard to concentrate. Too many personal things to deal with, especially with the mister’s and my mom’s health.

Didn’t want to give this week a pass though, so this is my brain under stress. 😀

~~~

#52weeks52stories: Week 32

Word prompt: triplet

Word count – 125

Reading time – 30 sec

~~~

There once was a man named John

Who was always working a con

On the day he met Stella

John became her fella

And the two began life on the run.

~~~

They grifted in Boise

They scammed in Poughkeepsie

With the law on their trail

John and Stella decided to bail

And spent four days in Reno getting tipsy.

~~~

The duo hid in a cabin in Truckee

And John just knew he’d get lucky

But they weren’t very cautious

Now Stella is nauseous

Looks like these two are having a baby.

~~~

Nine months later the triplets came

John knew he had to up his game

So he taught them the ropes

Raised them not to be dopes

And they’re still bringing fame to his name.

~~~

 

©2018 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Song Lyric Sunday | “Mercedes Benz” – Janis Joplin

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “drive/driving.” 

 ~~~~~
Still going my own way with this week’s theme to post this Janis Joplin classic which has been a part of pop culture for almost five decades.
Mercedes Benz was written by Joplin and the poets Michael McClure and Bob Neuwirth at Vahsen’s, a Port Chester, New York bar, on August 8, 1970 during an impromptu poetry jam.  The lyrics were inspired by the first line of a song written by McClure, “Come on, God, and buy me a Mercedes Benz.”  Janis would sing the song for the first time at a concert later that same night.
The song is about the search for happiness by the pursuit of worldly goods. It’s a classic hippie rejection of the consumerism that was already a big part of American society.
Recorded in one take two months later, Mercedes Benz  would also be Joplin’s last recorded song.  She died three days later on October 4, 1970 of a heroin overdose. Janis was just twenty-seven-years old.
The song has been covered dozens of times by artists and groups around the world including Elton John, Taj Mahal, and Pink, and used in countless movies and advertising campaigns. Many may be unfamiliar with Joplin and her music but most have heard this song at least once since its release.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Mercedes Benz

by Janis Joplin

Written by

Intro]
I’d like to do a song
Of great social and political import
It goes like this

[Verse 1]
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz

[Verse 2]
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV
Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me
I wait for delivery each day until three
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV

[Verse 3]
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town
I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down
Prove that you love me and buy the next round
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town

[Verse 1]
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz

Compiled from SongFacts.com,  Genius Lyrics, YouTube, Wikipedia, and Google.

#52weeks52stories “Whose Right is it Anyway?”

Whose Right is it Anyway banner

~~~

#52weeks52stories: Week 31

Word prompt: saw

Word count – 2581

Reading time – 4 min, 10 sec

~~~

The paramedics burst through the bay doors rushing the gurney down the hall while firing off details to the ER team.

“Male, white, 59 years-of-age. He was using a rotary saw with a frayed cord in his garage. The saw overheated, the frayed wires arced and shocked him. His son said he tried to drop the saw as he was falling but he didn’t let go in time. His left arm is almost completely severed at the elbow. His eyes are open but he’s unresponsive. His wife, Carol, is on the way and,” he tilted his head toward a young man entering behind them, “that’s his son, Will, twenty-two. Watch out for the attitude.”

Shouts from ER staff filled the area as the wounded man was pushed into the trauma area and transferred to the treatment table.

“BP’s 70 over 40, thready pulse.”

“Breathing is rapid and shallow. Respiratory is on the way.”

“Sir? Sir? Can you hear me, sir? What is the patient’s name?”

“Dan Henderson.”

“Mr. Henderson? Can you hear me? Do you know the date?”

“Get him typed.”

“Lab is on the way.”

“IV’s are placed.”

Trauma doctor Tim Koskins tried to assess the wound without removing too much of the pressure dressing. “Do we have a history?”

The paramedic held up his clipboard. “No hypertension, diabetes, asthma or known allergies. That’s all we got.”

“Thanks. Start a norepinephrine push and page Dr. Cole, stat.”

“What are you doing to my father?”

Without raising his head, Dr. Koskins spoke to the nurse at his side. “Would you mind? Please?”

RN Rayanne Downes stepped away from the table. “I’m on it.”

She approached the frowning young man.

“It’s Will, right? I’m Rayanne and we’re trying to assess and stabilize your dad to get him into surgery. They may be able to save his arm, but the clock is ticking. Let me show you where you can wait -”

“I’m not leaving my dad.”

“Will, sometimes it’s easier on family -”

I’m not leaving my dad.” He glanced over her shoulder. “What’s he doing?”

Rayanne turned around to see vascular surgeon Aric Cole had arrived and was examining Dan Henderson’s arm. She turned back to Will.

“Dr. Cole will lead the team who reattaches your father’s arm.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. He’s not touching my dad. Tell him to step away.”

“Will, what is the prob -”

“No blacks, none. Or Mexicans or Muslims. And only Asians from Japan or China… none of those shit-hole countries.”

Rayanne Downes had dealt with hundreds of people who refused treatment for a variety of reasons during her twenty-four years in nursing. However, this arrogant young man was going on her short list of most outrageous.

She backed away, unable to mask the contempt in her eyes.

Rayanne walked over to the doctors and murmured something the rest of the staff couldn’t hear. However, they all knew it wasn’t good when both men stopped examining Dan Henderson to stare at his son.

Aric Cole and Tim Koskins exchanged smirks before Aric left the table and washed his hands in the corner basin.

Tim worked to control the rage building inside his head, knowing to lash out at the young man would only make the situation worse.

Instead, he gave instructions to Rayanne for Mr. Henderson, then approached the man’s son.

Will Henderson smirked as he puffed out his chest.

“I suppose you’re gonna give me a lecture on tolerance and loving my neighbor now, right?”

“No. I wanted you to know that other than the injury he sustained, your father appears healthy, which works in his favor.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“The type of injury is the problem. He’s in danger of not only losing his arm but his life. His blood pressure is too low, his pulse and heartbeat too fast. He’s in shock and has lost a lot of blood and -”

“Yeah, he’s in bad shape. So, why aren’t you over there helping him?”

“Because the doctor you don’t want to treat your father is his best chance to come through this alive and with his arm intact.”

Will Henderson scoffed. “You doctors all stick together, good or bad. I don’t want some affirmative action scholarship darkie anywhere near my dad. So, you get him stable and into surgery – “

“I’m not a surgeon.”

“This is a hospital! I’m sure there are surgeons all over – “

Koskins’ patience ran out. He turned with clenched fists and walked away from the belligerent fool before he decked him.

“Hey. Hey!”

Not trusting himself enough to get close to the kid again, the doctor looked over his shoulder.

Will pointed at a nurse next to his dad hanging units of blood from the IV pole.

“What’s she doing?”

“Your father has lost a lot of blood. Lauren is preparing a transfusion for him.”

“She needs to step away too, and where did that blood come from?”

Tim glanced over at Lauren, but the pretty young African-American RN was already walking away from the table.

“Lauren, wait. Please.”

She stopped near the door and exhaled roughly. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wall, her angry glare focused on Will Henderson.

Dr. Koskins addressed Rayanne. “Is Mr. Henderson responsive yet.”

“No, doctor. He’s still foggy and confused.”

“How’s his BP?”

“Not much improvement, doctor.”

“Increase the norepinephrine.” He turned to Will. “Your father needs blood… now.”

“You still haven’t told me where it comes from.”

The doctor threw his arms out at his sides. “The hospital blood bank.”

“No, I mean are you sure you’re giving him blood from his own kind?”

“His own kind?”

“You know. White.”

The trauma staff froze and stared at Will Henderson, incredulous.

Tim Koskins shook with rage. Not looking at any particular staff member, he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Get someone from admin in here. Now.” He took a step toward the defiant man.

“Blood is stored by type, not ethnicity.”

Will threw up his own arms, amazed. “And that’s the problem. That’s why our people are getting so many strange illnesses. You mix our blood with theirs.

Tim was done. “We don’t work in ours and theirs here. Our job is to help everyone anyway we can. If you’re refusing the transfusion, you have to sign a form. But know you’re jeopardizing your father’s life.”

Before Will could respond, the doors behind him opened and the medical receptionist entered, an attractive but harried middle-age woman close at her heels.

“Doctor, the patient’s wife is here.”

Seeing her son first, Carol Henderson stopped and grabbed him.

“William, what’s going on? What happened?” She noticed Tim Koskins and rushed toward him. “Doctor? Are you working on my husband? How is he? What happened?”

Tim reached out and gripped her arm to steady her. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Dr. Koskins. We’re trying to stabilize Mr. Henderson and slow the bleeding.”

“Bleeding…”

“I don’t have all the facts, Mrs. Henderson, but your husband has a partially severed arm.”

Carol drew back in horror, covering her mouth with her hands. She looked past the doctor to her husband lying on the treatment table.

“W-What -”

The doctor gripped her arm again with a firmer hold. “Mrs. Henderson, time is very important right now. May I speak with you in private, please?”

He led her to a small consultation room. Will tried to follow.

“I need to speak with you alone, ma’am.”

Will tried to protest. “Hey, wait a minute. This is my family – “

“Now is not the time, William. For God’s sake, just wait.”

No one missed the glare the distressed woman threw at her son before entering the room.

Time stood still as the ER team continued to work on Dan Henderson while casting looks of worry at the closed consultation room door and looks of contempt at the chastened young man still smarting from his mother’s reprimand.

Four minutes later, the door opened. Tim Koskins took one of Carol’s hands into both of his.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson. Wait right here. There are forms for you to sign, and I’ll have a patient advocate come and sit with you.”

Overwhelmed and eyes brimming with tears, Carol Henderson nodded once.

Koskins turned to his team, issuing a flurry of orders.

“Page Dr. Cole back to Trauma. Alert surgery the patient will be there as soon as he’s stable.” He glanced over at Lauren still leaning against the wall.” The transfusion’s not going to start itself.”

He hadn’t finished his sentence before she was at Dan Henderson’s side looking for a vein in his uninjured arm.

Carol watched the team move around her husband, every movement with determined purpose.

She only caught glimpses of Dan’s face, but she didn’t miss the large blood-soaked bandage on his arm.

Or the small puddle of blood on the floor.

She watched a nurse lean over and say something to Dan, but he didn’t respond. The nurse tried again, and Carol saw Dan’s lips move but she didn’t hear anything.

Clutching her bag in one hand and her chest with the other, Carol stepped closer to the table.

Dan was speaking, but it was gibberish and made no sense.

The tears she’d held back fell as her heart broke for the man she’d spent more than half her fifty-two-years with.

Tim Koskins raised his head and saw the poor woman falling apart.

“Folks hang on just a second.”

He reached out his hand, motioning for Carol to come closer.

She stepped around Lauren securing the needle in place with a Tegaderm. Standing at her husband’s head, Carol was grateful to be near him.

The doctor encouraged her. “It’s okay. Go ahead. Talk to him.”

Gripping his shoulder, Carol leaned close to his right ear.

“Danny? I’m here, honey. You’re going to be okay, sweetie. These good people are giving you their best.”

Dan Henderson took a large gulp of air.

Tim Koskins motioned for her to continue.

“They’re taking you to surgery, sweetie and you’ll be back to your old self in no time, and then I want that four-star lunch you promised me.”

Soft chuckles from the staff stopped seconds after they began when Dan Henderson turned his head for the first time since arriving for treatment.

Carol leaned over farther so he could see her face. Her tears flowed faster seeing tears in his eyes.

“You’re going to be fine, baby. And you’re wearing a suit to lunch.” She kissed his cheek and the staff was in awe of the recognition and love in their patient’s eyes.

Rayanne swiped a tear from her face. “There are some things modern medicine will never be able to do.”

Carol squeezed Dan’s shoulder again. “I’ll be here when you get back.” She stepped away from her husband’s side just as Aric Cole rushed back into trauma.

“Surgery is prepping, ortho and anesthesia are ready. We’ll stop at radiology on the way for a couple of scans and x-rays. How is the star of the show?”

“BP and pulse are improving, doctor.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Koskins and Cole stood off to the side talking for several minutes. Tim tilted his head and Aric’s gaze followed to Carol Henderson. He smiled, then looked toward the unit doors. Will Henderson was still there, but his stature had diminished. His shoulders were slumped and his hands were shoved deep into pockets.

Aric approached Carol. “Mrs. Henderson, I’m Dr. Cole. I’ll be leading your husband’s surgical team.”

“Dr. Koskins told me you’re tops in the city and you started in Afghanistan. I know my Danny’s in good hands.”

Aric Cole looked over at Koskins then leaned closer to his patient’s wife. “I’m putting him in charge of my PR team.”

Carol smiled. “Dr. Cole, about earlier, about you treating my husband – “

“Ma’am, it’s forgotten. Your husband’s health and full-recovery is the focus and always will be. The procedure will be long, but we’ll keep you updated. I’ve called in a special patient advocate to stay with you. Daria Melrose. We worked together in the middle-east and she’ll take care of you and can answer some of your questions.”

“Y-You did that… and arranged all those things I heard you mention even after my son – “

He cut her off. “Mrs. Henderson, the procedure is the most important part, but it’s not the only part. We have to have everything in place to give your husband, or any patient, the best opportunity for a full recovery. And we have to take care of family because you’re the first level of support.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll talk again soon.”

He returned to the charts and monitors surrounding Dan Henderson. His vitals were improving.

A young nurse appeared with a clipboard and an electronic tablet for Carol’s signature in several places.

After signing, Carol glanced at her son. He still looked like a sullen child upset over not getting his way. Gone was the shy, introverted child who had trouble making friends. So desperate for acceptance, Will latched on to the first group which welcomed him—an alt-right group of hate-mongering racists who weren’t above using violence to deliver their warped messages. Carol was disgusted but she walked over to him.

“Mom, you don’t understand.”

“What, William? What don’t I understand? That you were taking advantage of a situation and exerting your authority over something you know your father wouldn’t want? Is that what I don’t understand?”

“You and dad won’t take the time to listen. If you did, you’d understand it’s past time we took a stand and stop letting these liberals walk all over us – “

“Stop it.”

“No, mom, Mr. Milner said – “

“Stop it, William.”

“But mom, Mr. Milner said -”

“Shut up! Mr. Milner said this, Mr. Milner said that… I’m sick of it. Your dad and I raised you and told you the right things, and this hateful jackass erased it all from your head in less than a year.”

“Mom, you’ve missed the big picture – “

Carol’s soul shattered. He was lost to her.

“William, the big picture is you had no right to overrule your father’s rights. He was unable to speak for himself and it was your duty as his son to act on his behalf, not your own twisted agenda.”

He tried to respond, but she continued.

“All that garbage propaganda you spout talking about rights miss one key point—your rights are no more important or come before anyone else’s. I-I…  could have l-lost my husband today because of your selfishness. What has – “

“Mrs. Henderson, I’ll show you to the surgery lounge. Daria Melrose is there waiting for you.”

Carol smiled at the receptionist. “Thank you, I’ll be right there.”

“It’s going to take some time for me to find forgiveness in my heart for you, William, and I can’t be around you right now.”

She reached up, took his face in both her hands and pulled him close, kissing his forehead.

“I love you. But I miss the bright-eyed, compassionate kid I raised with the easy smile. You? I don’t know who you are, so easily swayed by words and believing in whatever you’re told. But if that is the case, please believe me when I tell you-you’re an idiot.”

Carol Henderson walked away, leaving her only child standing there in confused disbelief… and alone.

~~~

 

©2018 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Song Lyric Sunday | “Tequila” – Pee wee Herman Dance

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “drink.” 

 ~~~~~
Still stretching the theme to something to drink, there’s no way I could pass up the iconic dance scene from the 1985 big screen hit, Pee wee’s Big Adventure.
In the movie, Pee-wee enters a biker bar for one large wine and to make a phone call, but the outlaw motorcycle club threatens to kill him after he accidentally knocks over their motorcycles. Pee-wee makes a last request, dancing to the song Tequila. His dance wins over the bikers, who give him a motorcycle for his journey. (Pee-wee crashes his motorcycle immediately afterwards.)
The version of Tequila used in the movie is the original recorded by 50s group The Champs, and written by band member Danny Flores (as Chuck Rio). It was a number one song in 1958 and won the 1959 Grammy Award for Best R&B Performance.
“Tequila” is the song’s only lyric.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Tequila

by The Champs

Written by

 

Compiled from SongFacts.com,  Genius Lyrics, YouTube, Wikipedia, and Google.

#52weeks52stories “The Sweetest Days, Conclusion”

chest and rose

This story vexes with me. It’s another that has more to say, but I’m on WIP-overload right now and have to go with the HFN (Happy For Now) ending.

~~~

#52weeks52stories: Week 30

Word prompt: gray

Word count – 1791

Reading time – 2 min, 10 sec

Part 1     |     Part 2

~~~

“I hope you’re remembering how hot Kiefer Sutherland was as a vampire.”

Pulled from her thoughts and The Lost Boys movie poster by her best friend’s voice, Moira whirled around.

“Josephine Octavia Jacobs-Broadnax!”

Josie guffawed, embracing her friend. “Woman, if I wasn’t so happy to see you, I’d have to deck you for going full name on me, Moira Suzanne Jennings-Lambert!”

They both laughed aloud as the years melted.

Moira leaned back, appraising her classmate. “Geeze, Josie, you look amazing.”

The self-professed diva spun in a circle and struck a runway pose. “Of course, I do. And it’s just Jacobs now. Divorce is final and Clarence is free to ruin another woman’s life.”

Moira laughed but heart swelled with love for her oldest and dearest friend.

Unapologetic and brash, Josie Jacobs had always been the pretty, chubby girl. No amount of teasing and taunts could break her spirit.

Josie was a force of nature.

She was also the rock-solid pillar of support Moira needed after Kevin committed suicide.

Moira could do little more than breathe when police showed up at the Jennings’ home with notification of Kevin’s death.

Just a few short hours after arguing with their father and after kissing her goodbye, her brother put a gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Moira’s pain bottomed out when neither of her parents reacted to the news.

All these years later and Moira still believes she saw a short, cursory nod shared between Abraham and Genova Jennings.

The familial bond between daughter and parent snapped that night. Moira became an occupant in the Jennings home. The honor student seldom spoke to them and kept her head down, studying.

She smirked at the irony of her estrangement with her parents being the catalyst for her edging out Don Thompson for the number one spot in their class.

Most teenagers would experiment with drugs, sex, alcohol, or join a band in an act of rebellion. But Moira Jennings’ act of anarchy was to become class valedictorian. What a troublemaker.

“MJ? Where’d you go? You zone out on me again.”

Flushed, Moira looked away. “Sorry, Josie. Guess it’s just a night for memories.”

Always the schemer, Josie grabbed Moira by both arms, glaring. “You know what else it’s a night for? Across the dance floor, in fifteen minutes… the Walk Like an Egyptian dance contest.”

“Aw, Josie, no way am -”

“C’mon, Moira. This is our night. This could be our last hurrah. Think about it. Ten years from now our knees could be shot or we’ve had hip replacements.”

Moira couldn’t hold in her cackles. “Ok, ok, fine. We’ll dance but -”

“Who’s dancing? I hope you know you’re not dancing without me.”

The two women turned and rushed toward the new voice, already screaming.

“Melanie! YAAY! You’re here.

“So good to see you, Mel.”

With an arm around each of her lifelong friends, Melanie Yankama hugged them close.

The Asian-American wife, mother of five, and middle-school science teacher pulled back, her eyes brimming with tears. “Why do we wait so long to get together? I love my life and everything about it, but, damn, I miss my girls.” She turned to Moira. “It still bugs me I couldn’t be with you after Alexander… well, it was just frustrating. Louis’ dad’s Alzheimer’s advanced so fast and then we lost his mom. She was healthy as an Olympic swimmer and one morning, she just didn’t wake up.”

Josie didn’t respond, recognizing her friend’s need to talk.

Moira touched Melanie’s arm. “Don’t, Mel. No one knows better than me… life doesn’t wait for the right time, it will take its due. Your daily calls meant the world to me and helped me get through some bad days.”

Moira blinked, fighting to hold back her own tears.

“So, are we dancing or dissolving into a messy heap of old ladies?”

“Oh, hush!” Melanie chided Josie. “Of course, we’re dancing, but I’m the only old lady in this conversation. You two look amazing. Do you have portraits in your attics? I feel like one of the Golden Girls standing next to you two.”

“Woman, you are stunning and you know it. Your gray hair looks like professional highlights. Mine look like I lost a battle with life.”

The trio shared a laugh at Josie’s expense.

“Now let’s go dance and watch out for the Conway Twins. Word is they’re on the prowl.”

Moira giggled. “Oh, no! Rick and Dick are here?”

“Yup! And they’re still identical. Even their comb-overs match!”

Howling with laughter, the friends made their across the ballroom, greeting classmates, posing for quick photos, and avoiding Rick and Dick Conway.

Moira Lambert was still well aware of the heaviness on her heart but the despair was gone.

As she danced, shared toasts and reconnected with friends, she was reminded of the fun of high school.

For thirty years, her one focal point was the day her brother died and her parents’ lack of concern. Moira spent so much time hating and avoiding them, she blocked out all the happy times in her young life, even the ones shared with Kevin.

The evening passed faster than anyone wanted, and the pre-dawn hours found the hotel’s efficient wait staff replacing centerpieces and empty snack trays with large bowls of fresh fruit and pots of strong hot coffee.

The early breakfast was such a hit at the last reunion, die-hard class members voted for another and now sat around the ballroom minus shoes, jackets, and a few wigs, in small group conversations making plans for family visits and cookouts.

Moira, Josie, and Melanie each claimed a lounger behind the bandstand. Melanie was on her cell giving husband, Louis, a quick rundown of their evening, while Josie was exchanging texts with someone.

Reclined with her eyes closed, Moira wasn’t asleep or even tired.

Montages of her past played in her mind, along with her late husband’s words.

“Baby, we get one life. Don’t spend it focused on your pain or the people who caused it. We have our kids and careers. We have each other. Days like these are the sweetest. Don’t focus on the pain, honey-bunny. God knows we’d never smile if we only remembered the bad times.”

He was right. Alexander Lambert was always right and as long as he was the center of her universe, she knew the truth.

When Moira returned for her sophomore year, she rented a bungalow from a former professor who recently married and moved all her things out of her parents’ home. Again Abraham and Genova were emotion-free and their daughter was glad to be rid of them.

Until the phone calls began.

When Moira moved out, karma moved in. Excessive drinking, extra-marital affairs, and empty bank accounts were just a few of the things one of her parents would call to complain about.

Moira never took sides or gave advice, and after one too many emotional outbursts from her mother calling her an uncaring daughter, she stopped taking their calls.

But Alexander refused to let her turn her back—he knew regret would catch up to her one day.

He held her hand when they invited her then-divorced parents to dinner to announce their engagement.

Alexander’s wink from the altar made Moira grin as she held her father’s arm all the way up the aisle.

When her parents became ill two years apart, Alexander was at her side, helping to move them each in turn to Indianapolis and manage their affairs in life and after their deaths.

Moira never again had a daughter’s love for Abraham and Genova. She could never mine deep enough in her soul to find forgiveness and her parents made it easy by refusing to talk about Kevin. However, her husband made her understand turning her back on them would only make the memories worse for her.

How could one person be right all the time?

Well, not all the time. There was the one time Alexander was wrong.

Home just three days after corrective knee surgery, her husband waved off chest pains as indigestion. When antacids didn’t help, Moira wanted to take him to the ER but Alexander refused, saying he’d had enough of hospitals and would prefer to try resting for a couple of hours first.

Less than an hour later, he woke in distress. His breathing was rapid and shallow and he coughed up blood. Moira’s 911 call brought paramedics to her home in six minutes, but it was too late for Alexander. He’d suffered a pulmonary embolism and never made it to the hospital.

Moira sat up, in awe that the memory which caused so many of her tears for over a year wasn’t breaking her down now. Losing the love of her life still hurt, witnessed by the dull ache in her chest, but at last, she knew she’d go on not in spite of her loss but because of it.

“What are you smiling about, MJ?”

Glancing over at Josie, Moira’s smile grew. “Nothing, just memories.”

Melanie ended her call and sat up. “Louis said if you two leave town without coming by to say hello and give him a hug, he’s going to put an ancient Asian curse on you both which will cause your hips to spread.”

“Too late!” Moira chirped.

“Yeah, your hubs is a little late to the party on that front. How did he come up with that idea? A supernatural message from his ancestors?

“Nah. An old episode of Tales from the Crypt.”

They all dissolved into giggles, then Josie looked at Moira with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“You know, we could grab my things from my room, stop by your hotel and get your bags, then spend a few hours at Mel’s, making Louis sorry he ever met us.”

Melanie leaped to her feet clapping her hands. “I like that idea.”

Moira agreed. “Sounds like fun. I’m in.”

The clatter of dishes made Josie peek around the bandstand.

“They’re bringing out the grills and steam tables. First, breakfast, then Operation Annoy Louis.”

Moira chuckled as Josie dragged Melanie toward the breakfast buffet wondering about her chances of getting a six-egg omelet.

Before joining them, Moira paused, resting her hand over her heart.

Alexander Lambert loved her and saved her from every bad thing in her life. Though he was gone forever, his words were still with her, urging her on. Moira closed her eyes, grateful for the time they had together and the life they’d shared. She said a silent thank you to the memory of the man who worked to see the good in everything and everyone… and brought out the best in her.

Smiling, she went to join her friends, looking forward to the sweetest days still to come.

~~~

 

©2018 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Song Lyric Sunday | “Life is a Highway” – Rascal Flatts

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “street” but we’re gonna call it a highway this time!

 ~~~~~
Originally a 1991 number one song for Canadian Tom Cochrane, Life is a Highway became a top ten hit fifteen years later for American country group Rascal Flatts when they covered the song for Pixar’s animated hit Cars. The song also appears on their 2006 album, Me and My Gang.
This song is a biggie with my family because of Jordan, my three-year-old grand-nephew.
Before he could walk or talk, J was mesmerized by Cars. It got so bad, the only way to calm a fussy, cranky J was to put the DVD on. (Which of course, I bought for him. 😀 ) And he wouldn’t just watch the movie, he had to hear the song.
J also never watched the movie alone.  If you were present, you were a part of the Jordan on Lighteningviewing audience. So it’s little wonder, the Arizona part of the family knows all the words to the song… and most of the dialogue in the movie. 🙂
Here he is on his riding Lightening McQueen, and yes, he’s wearing Lightening McQueen sandals too. I have no idea where my sis gets them but he gets a new pair every summer.
After being bought every vehicle in the movie, some twice, J became hooked on YouTube toy videos (I didn’t know there was such a thing) featuring the cars… from Cars. He dragged us all to the TV… several times, to see the race track based on the movie. J got a big surprise when he received his own Ultimate Florida Speedway for Christmas in 2017.
Jordan_Ultimate Florida Speedway
If this were last weekend my video would be of him singing the song since he was here, but he’s with his Gigi so I’m playing this one for Jordan!

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Life is a Highway

by Rascal Flatts

Written by

[Verse 1]
Whooo umm yeah
Life is like a road that you travel on
When there is one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
There is a world outside every darkened door
Where blues will not haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won’t hesitate
To break down the garden gate
There’s not much time left today

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

[Verse 2]
Through all these cities and all these towns
It is in my blood and it is all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
From Mozambique to those Memphis nights
The Khyber Pass to Vancouver’s lights

Knock me down get back up again
You are in my blood
I am not a lonely man
There is no load I cannot hold
Road so rough this I know
I will be there when the light comes in
Just tell them we are survivors

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

Give me give me give me give me yeah

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

There was a distance between you and I (between you and I)
A misunderstanding once
But now we look it in the eye

Ooh, yeah

There ain’t no load that I cannot hold
Road so rough this I know
I will be there when the light comes in
Just tell them we are survivors

[Chorus]
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you are going my way
I want to drive it all night long

Give me give me give me give me yeah

Compiled from SongFacts.com,  Genius Lyrics, YouTube, Wikipedia, and Google.

#52weeks52stories “The Sweetest Days, Part 2”

chest and rose

I said I’d post the conclusion of The Sweetest Days this week. I lied. Not intentionally! I don’t like serial pieces because I have no OFF button, but between my great-aunt duties, Camp NaNo, and my finger hovering over the publish button on another piece, my brain is like a bowl of oatmeal… and I hate oatmeal.

However, I did update it! And, finishing it is at the top of my to-do list for the week. Well, maybe not at the top, probably closer to the middle. Okay, it’s ON the to-do list. How about that? 😀

Enjoy!

~~~

#52weeks52stories: Week 29

Word prompt: movie

Word count – 407

Reading time – 1 min, 41 sec.

~~~

“I talked with Josie Jacobs, dear, and I know the last year hasn’t been easy for you.”

Gayla Petry took Moira by the hand, leading her to the registration table.

“Josie’s inside and Melanie will be here soon.” She handed Moira her name badge and reunion goodie bag. “Spend a little time with old friends, dear. It will make you smile.”

Moira squeezed her former teacher’s hand and headed for the grand ballroom.

Crossing the threshold, she was caught in a time-warp.

Posters of Prince, Robert Palmer, and Whitney Houston graced the entryway.

The Pet Shop Boys’ West End Girls blared from speakers, assaulting Moira’s forty-eight-year-old ears and vibrating the floor.

I used to think that song was cool, now I just want it turned down.

As she admired the rest of the pop culture display, classmates waved to Moira. Some she recognized, other she was sure were groupies and not from her graduating class.

Not much happened in Flanders, Indiana, but the class of 1988 had the distinction of having three members drafted into the NFL, another went to the major leagues, and still another made two appearances in Olympic games as a member of the US swim team. All these years later, women still flocked to the standouts.

Not a bad legacy for a bunch of goofy kids.

Moira paused in front of a montage of Teen Beat magazines. A smile formed on her lips as she remembered how crazy girls were for all those handsome young male faces. She moved on, frozen in time. A poster of Three men and a Baby—one of her favorites, shared space with Fatal Attraction—her first grownup movie.

Her smile faded when her gaze fell on the third movie poster—The Lost Boys. It was an awesome vampire movie to most, Moira included until the title name took on a new meaning for her.

*

“You can’t leave, Kev.”

“I have to, Sissie. I’m one of the Lost Boys now. I’ll miss you, but I’d rather not spend whatever time I have left under the same roof with parents who believe I’ve ruined their lives because I’m gay.”

*

Moira believed the day her brother found out he’d become a Lost Boy—gone from being HIV positive to having full-blown AIDS—was the saddest day of her life. She didn’t think her soul could fracture any deeper watching the person she loved most suffer and die.

She was wrong.

~~~

 

©2018 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Song Lyric Sunday | “Something to Talk About” – Bonnie Raitt

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “speak.”

 ~~~~~

When we speak, we’re talking, so I went with that variation of the theme so I could post Bonnie Raitt’s Something to Talk About. 😀

The song is about small-town gossip and the effect it has on the singer and the guy she’s secretly in love with. It turns out that they’re rumored to be having an affair, and since the rumor-spreaders already think that the two people are involved, the song asks, why not have an affair anyway, thus giving them “something to talk about.”
Something to Talk About  was written by the Canadian singer Shirley Eikhard, who had recorded in the Jazz and Country genres, but has had her most success as a songwriter, with songs recorded by Chet Atkins, Cher, Anne Murray and Rita Coolidge.
The song won a Grammy Award for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, beating out Oleta Adams, Mariah Carey, Amy Grant and Whitney Houston. The song was also nominated for Record of the Year, but lost to Unforgettable.
According to Anne Murray’s 2009 book All of Me, Anne wanted to record this song in 1986, but her producers didn’t think it would be a hit. She called her 1986 album Something to Talk About even though it did not include this song. Anne said she was happy that Bonnie Raitt made it a big hit five years later.
For Raitt, it was by far her biggest chart hit in the United States.
This is a very popular Karaoke song, and is often performed by American Idol contestants. Season 3 winner Fantasia Barrino performed the song on the show, as did Idol notables Kellie Pickler and Sanjaya Malakar.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Something to Talk About

by Bonnie Raitt

Written by

People are talking, talking ’bout people
I hear them whisper, you won’t believe it
They think we’re lovers kept under cover
I just ignore it but they keep saying
We laugh just a little too loud
Stand just a little too close
We stare just a little too long
Maybe they’re seein’ something we don’t, darling

Let’s give ’em something to talk about
Let’s give ’em something to talk about
Let’s give ’em something to talk about
How about love?

I feel so foolish, I never noticed
You’d act so nervous, could you be falling for me?
It took the rumor to make me wonder
Now I’m convinced I’m going under
Thinkin’ ’bout you every day
Dream ’bout you every night
I’m hoping that you feel the same way
Now that we know it, let’s really show it, darling

Let’s give ’em something to talk about
A little mystery to figure out, babe
Let’s give ’em something to talk about
How about love?

Let’s give ’em something to talk about, babe
A little mystery to figure out
Let’s give ’em something to talk about
How about love?

Ooh, listen to ’em baby
A little mystery won’t hurt ’em
Let’s give ’em something to talk about
How about our love, love, love, love

Compiled from SongFacts.com,  Genius Lyrics, YouTube, Wikipedia, and Google.

#52weeks52stories “The Sweetest Days”

chest and rose

~~~

#52weeks52stories: Week 28

Word prompt: reunion

Word count – 813;

Reading time – 2 min, 10 sec.

~~~

Moira exited I-94 and rolled to a stop at the traffic signal at the end of the off-ramp.

She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, indecision tugging at her.

Turning left would take her back to the highway, her hotel, and home in two hours.

Turning right would lead her to the Marriott Hotel… and her thirtieth high school class reunion.

The last thing Moira Lambert wanted to do was attend her class reunion.

She turned right anyway.

High school hadn’t been unpleasant for the homecoming queen and class valedictorian, it just didn’t have the same meaning for her as it did her classmates.

Moira was proud of her accomplishments and honored to be so well-thought of, but everything changed near the end of her senior year and then the only thing that mattered was graduating and leaving Flanders, Indiana.

It’s not too late, Lambert. You could grab your things from the hotel and be home before midnight.

Before she could respond to her own heeding, Moira heard Alexander’s quips.

“Don’t focus on the pain, honey-bunny. God knows we’d never smile if we only remembered the bad times.”

Her pursed lips relaxed into a bittersweet smile. She continued on as though Alexander Lambert was right there guiding her.

She pulled up to valet park in front of the Marriott Hotel and stepped out of her Qx50 accepting her claim stub from the young Latino man who’d opened her door. She thanked him with a smile and headed for the entrance, pretending not to notice the look her valet exchanged with two other young men standing at the valet stand.

She wasn’t angry or offended. Moira knew far too women in her age group who thought nothing of bedding young men half their age and it didn’t matter if they were valets, wait staff or occupied an office across the hall. Moira Lambert didn’t judge. She just wasn’t in that group.

As she entered the hotel, large metallic green signs with yellow glitter text directed members of the Taft High School Class of 1988 to the Grand Ballroom on the lower level.

Moira smirked while walking past the sign.

Kat Volker still had an obsession with glitter.

Approaching the escalator bay, Moira’s steps slowed.

This was the first reunion she’d attended without Alex.

This was the first time she’d done anything other than work since losing her husband of twenty-five years. She knew he’d be disappointed in her.

Like Moira, Alexander Lambert was going through the motions of living when they met on the Purdue University campus.

Tragedy touched his senior year of high also when his mother lost her battle with breast cancer. His misery deepened when he had to move in with his father and stepmother.

Catina Lambert hated him for being a constant reminder Gil Lambert was ever involved with a woman other than her. Her lies and scheming kept the Lambert men at odds so much, Alexander applied for early enrollment to Purdue to get away from the Lambert home.

Melancholy washed over her as the escalator carried her down.

Moira knew she’d met a kindred soul and told Alexander about her parents’ reaction when her older brother, Kevin, came out to them after his college graduation.

Big Abraham Jennings had balked at his only son being a fairy, and Genova Jefferson Jennings knew the Flanders African Methodist Church would shun them all.

Moira stayed at her brother’s side, holding his hand, ashamed of her parents for the first time in her life.

But it wouldn’t be the last.

Moira could see the reception area outside the Grand Ballroom was filling up and took stock of her appearance in the mirrored wall as the escalator took her to the lower level of the Marriott Hotel.

She looked good.

The streaks of gray on the left side of her head gave her a mature look without being matronly. They ran through her soft, brown curls from her temple to her shoulder.

The knee-length, purple silk wrap-dress complimented her hour-glass figure and Moira didn’t even lament the illusive twelve pounds that considered her hips a permanent home.

She stepped off the escalator and approached the registration table to the left of the ballroom entrance, and her first smile of the evening was genuine.

“Moira Jennings!”

A tall, thin woman with snow white hair leaped up from the table and ran to greet Moira, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. It’s Moira Lambert.”

Moira pulled back wearing a big grin. “Mrs. Petry, you know I’ll always answer to whatever you call me.”

The retired history teacher beamed. “Still my best… and favorite student.”

Gayla Petry pulled her former student close for another tight hug.

“It is good to see you, my dear. I’m so glad you decided to come.”

Moira chuckled. “I am too, I think.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Stop in next week for the conclusion to The Sweetest Days.

©2018 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

Song Lyric Sunday | “Breakout” – Swing Out Sister

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “break.”

 ~~~~~

From the British act Swing Out Sister’s 1986 debut album It’s Better to Travel, the single Breakout was a hit that made many segments of the music industry sit up and take notice.

The single reached the number four position in the UK in the autumn of 1986, and rose to number six on the Billboard Hot 100 in the US and number one on the Adult Contemporary in the US in 1987. The song also resulted in a Grammy Award nomination for Best Pop Vocal Performance by a Duo or Group.

The single was written by the group’s three members,  and performed while the group was still a trio. It was one of their biggest hits, and the song most closely associated with the act. In the US, Breakout remains a staple of adult contemporary and smooth jazz radio station playlists.

It’s a fun video with band members goofing around as they make a dress for Corinne.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Breakout

by Swing Out Sister

Written by

And breakout

When explanations make no sense
When every answer’s wrong
You’re fighting with lost confidence
All expectations gone

The time has come to make or break
Move on, don’t hesitate
And breakout

Don’t stop to ask
And now you’ve found a break to make at last
You’ve got to find a way
Say what you want to say
Breakout

When situations never change
Tomorrow looks unsure
Don’t leave your destiny to chance
What are you waiting for
The time has come to make your break
Breakout

Don’t stop to ask
And now you’ve found a break to make at last
You’ve got to find a way
Say what you want to say
Breakout…

Don’t stop to ask
Now you’ve found a break to make at last
You’ve got to find a way
Say what you want to say
Breakout

Some people stop at nothing
If you’re searching for something
Lay down the law
Shout out for more
Breakout and shout
Day in day out
Breakout

Breakout

Don’t stop to ask
And now you’ve found a break to make at last
You’ve got to find a way
Say what you want to say
And breakout

Don’t stop to ask
And now you’ve found a break to make at last
You’ve got to find a way
Say what you want to say
And breakout…

(Don’t) Lay down the law (stop)
Shout out for more (to ask)
Breakout and shout day in day out
Ooh, breakout

Breakout

Breakout

Lay down the law
Shout out for more
Breakout and shout day in day out

Compiled from Genius Lyrics, YouTube, Wikipedia, and Google.