Sins of the Father - For Bobbie Lee, her past casts a long shadow over her present
One Door Closes - Helen learns a little of how the world works, and finds her place in it
Legacy - For Anne everything seems perfect. Why then so much rage?
Those Who Dare - Angela, don't call her 'Angel', discovers shortcuts have costs
Trapped in Amber - Careless Martin loses his favorite cufflinks, and much more
This collection is available on Kindle for $1.99 (and European equivalents) at:
amazon.com amazon.co.uk amazon.de amazon.fr amazon.es amazon.it
and Nook at: barnesandnoble.com
Five short stories digging through the darker sides of relationships - and the far-reaching impact we can have on one another. Below is a taste of the first one:
~~~
I take off my blouse and then my bra. The studio is chilly and my body reacts immediately.
"Sorry about the cold," Mara, the owner of the studio, says.
She hands me a robe. "You can wear this, Roberta. We had a male model earlier. The cold helps...you know."
She smiles a 'we're all girls together' smile. I smile back, trying to match her expression. I don't think I succeed.
"Well," she says, "come out whenever you're ready."
Mara leaves, and I quickly strip off the rest of my clothes. The robe is silk, with big flower patterns in purples and golds on a green background. I slip it on. It's cold against my skin at first, but warms quickly.
I step out from behind the screen. Six easels form a semi-circle around a love seat. A brown, tasseled throw is draped over it. There are two skylights overhead but they don't help much. It's already getting dark.
Mara's got photographer's lights set up. I suppose she'll turn them on later.
Mara's students are arriving. Four women, early twenties I guess, come in, chatting with one another. Comparing brushes, talking about paints, dyes. Artist stuff. From the sound of them, they've known one another a long time.
Two guys, one of them looks younger than the women. I can't tell very much about him. He avoids looking in my direction, busying himself setting out his charcoal, brushes, paint. The other guy looks at me and nods. He may be the oldest one here, apart from Mara. Late twenties, maybe thirty. Expensive casual clothing. Looks like he tries too hard.
I don't return his nod. Mara comes out of her office and begins arranging me on the love seat, fussing over the throw, the robe. She calls her students to order, and the life drawing class begins.
The students study me, then bow their heads and sketch. I sit like stone, thoughts rippling over me like water.
"Great news, girl." Amy's voice sounds in my head. "I'm pregnant again." Even in her message, I could hear how happy she is with her life. "You know, you'd think by now we'd have figured out what causes it."
She was always like that, Amy. Life was funny to her. Not a joke, just funny. And simple. High school, some community college, then married at the start of her second year. One kid soon after that. There were some who said "too soon", if you know what I mean. And even if it was, Amy didn't care. What other people said never really bothered her.
And now a second one on the way. We'd been best friends, since we were toddlers. We grew up together. She's the only real link I have to back home. I need to call her back. Tomorrow. Yeah, I'll call her tomorrow.
"So, when are you coming to visit me? Don't wait too long, OK? You gotta tell me all about the life I'm missing, what with keeping Joey warm at night."
Joey is Amy's husband. A big man. Runs a car dealership. He bought it when times were tough and has worked hard at it ever since. They're doing OK. Amy helps out, doing the books. They fit together well.
I'm aware of Mara's hands, moving me, positioning my body to catch the light. The lights heat the studio up a bit.
Nice to know some can fit together.
Amy wasn't the only one leaving me messages. "Call me." Mom's voice. "We have to talk."
No Mom. We don't have to talk. Not anymore. You and I don't have anything to talk about. There hasn't been, not since—
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