Because I have the best boss in the world 🙂 I’ve been able to take this week off from work to focus on book 02. I’ve rewritten most of the first 30 chapters and am now closer to chapter 40 or so. It’s time to share some of the fun I’ve been having. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it…
There are times in life when the stars and the moon and all the planets align in perfect unison and everything is right with the world. Harmony and peace are abundant, the grass is as green as the sky is blue, and happiness is flowing from every pore of every molecule possible. I imagined a small group of people sitting around in a circle, holding hands, and singing Kumbaya.
And that reminded me that although I had always heard the reference about sitting around singing Kumbaya, I only found out recently it’s a religious song. Well, who the hell knew that? Obviously, not me. I thought I clearly remembered the song being in the animated movie The Lion King. Turns out I was wrong again, that song was the Circle of Life.
And that is how I knew the freakin’ moon and the freakin’ stars weren’t aligned and I wasn’t singing the Lion King song, because things WEREN’T right with the world and I WASN’T freakin’ harmonized or peaceful! I was freakin’ MAD.
“Ma’am, follow the light please”, said a perfectly innocent doctor as he aimed a small flashlight into my eyes. I followed the damn light, but I didn’t do it happily. He checked for what I assumed were signs of a concussion, but of course he didn’t tell me that, hence the assumption. “So, you checking for a concussion?” I asked bitterly and knew I shouldn’t take out my anger on the poor doctor, but as he was the one currently in my face, he was the one getting my attitude. “Yes, I am”, he replied all perkily.
“Think you should, maybe, oh I don’t know. Communicate that to me? Tell me what it is your doing to me and maybe even tell me what it is you might be looking for?” I stopped and gave him ample time to recover. When he didn’t, well, my attitude was peeking out from my torn pantyhose, slithering up and around my back and slamming straight through my brain to my mouth in less time than it took him to say, “What?”
“What is with you damn men that you haven’t heard of communication? Women do it all the time. We’ve heard of Alexander Graham Bell and Steve Jobs and actually, those may be the people who taught us to over-communicate. But you wouldn’t know about that, now would ya?” His mouth agape probably wondering if I had hit my head so hard I was delusional, or possibly contemplating if this was a normal personality trait of mine. I decided to keep him guessing, “Do you even know we have texting now? You can write a sentence directly on your phone and hit send. It’s that easy. Or maybe men are not taught basic sentence structure in school?”
An EMT worker walked up to the doctor and curious by the look on his face, she asked, “Doc? She cleared?” The doctor appeared to force his gaze from mine, as if the EMT worker interrupted a session with the gorilla who speaks through sign language and handing her the clipboard he said, “Yes. She’s fine” and walked away.
I just stared after him while the EMT worker checked her clipboard for my information. “I’m Amber, can you tell me your name?” I did, and answered her questions about my address, insurance information, and phone number. “Well,” Amber said looking around, “what happened here anyway? Besides the obvious, that is.” City workers were everywhere now as the Fire Department, Police Department, and medical personnel were attending to the areas that required their expertise. Media and all the onlookers were cordoned off each side of the block. “I’m not sure”, I told her, “all I remember is a loud bang and then I found myself on the ground.” I had a mental flash of the person who put me on the ground, too, and it did nothing to appease my attitude.
“Yeah, I heard you were tackled by that hunky guy over there?” She looked towards the side alley and I followed her gaze. Coming out of the building was Graham, all 6’1” of him. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have noticed he had lost a little weight, weight he really couldn’t afford to lose, but that his muscle was more defined.
The faded pair of jeans he was wearing looked tight around his thigh muscles as he walked, and the t-shirt, although under a light jacket, left little to the imagination. But I wasn’t thinking clearly at all, and the reason for that was on his arm. A very sexy, long-legged, beautifully olive-skinned woman was holding onto Graham’s arm for dear life and all I wanted to do was claw her lovely eyes out. As I watched their tender exchange, Graham’s face inches from hers as they walked and he whispered something, probably letting her know everything was going to be ok, I noticed movement behind them. There was a brief moment of recognition at the gentleman leaning against the building watching Graham just like I did. I couldn’t place him, but he definitely looked vaguely familiar in his black leather trench coat.
I remembered Amber’s question, managed to mumble a yes, and as we both continued to watch Graham she replied, “Hmmm, a tackle from that? Sign me up.”
Happy Bloggin’ Ya’ll…