My Thursday Throwback
Olivia Gaines
Contents
Dear Diary,
Chapter 1- A Fantastic Friday
Chapter 2- Totally...
Chapter 3 – Interesting...
Dear Diary,
Chapter 4 – Riding through the Storm
Chapter 5 – Fire and Her Fury
Chapter 6 – Wake Up Call
Dear Diary,
Chapter 7 – Sorting Through the Rubble
Chapter 8 – Sinking in Some Teeth
Chapter 9 – But...Baby!
Dear Diary,
Chapter 10 – Letting Loose
Chapter 11 – Say What Now?
Chapter 12 – What in the Hell?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Davonshire House Publishing
PO Box 9716
Augusta, GA 30916
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely a coincidence.
© 2017 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin
Copy Editor: Teri Thompson Blackwell
Cover: Koou Graphics
Olivia Gaines Make Up and Photograph by Latasla Gardner Photography
ASIN:
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 10 9 8
First Davonshire House Publishing November 2017
DEDICATION
For You...Thank you.
The story is too big to tell all in one sitting.
If I did, I would miss the subtle nuances.
“Easy reading is damn hard writing.”
- Nathaniel Hawthorne
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A special thank you to the Tuesday Sushi Club, Jessica, and Hildie, for keeping me grounded.
To all the fans, friends and supporters of the dream as well as the Facebook community of writers who keep me focused, inspired and moving forward.
Write On!
Also by Olivia Gaines
The Slice of Life Series
The Perfect Man
Friends with Benefits
A Letter to My Mother
The Basement of Mr. McGee
A New Mommy for Christmas
The Slivers of Love Series
The Cost to Play
Thursday in Savannah
Girl's Weekend
Beneath the Well of Dawn
Santa’s Big Helper
The Davonshire Series
Courting Guinevere
Loving Words
Vanity's Pleasure
The Blakemore Files
Being Mrs. Blakemore
Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore
Dancing with Mr. Blakemore
Cruising with the Blakemores
Dinner with the Blakemores
Loving the Czar
The Value of a Man Series
My Mail Order Wife
A Weekend with the Cromwell’s
Other Novellas
North to Alaska
The Brute & The Blogger
A Better Night in Vegas
Other Novels
A Menu for Loving
Turning the Page
This is Scott and Zelda
Dear Diary,
Mama was really mad at me today. I saw her kiss Mr. Batis Bautista this morning in the backyard. It was right after Daddy left for work. She likes kissing Mr. Batista. Her eyes were closed and she held him real tight with her leg up in the air. When she made the funny noises and he touched her boobie, I started to laugh.
She heard me giggle.
I’ve never seen her so mad at me and that says a lot. Mama is always mad at me.
I ran as fast as I culd to go hide, but she found me. She had the belt. I screamed so loud for Mike to come help me and he did.
Mike doesn’t like it when Mama is mad at me. She told him he wouldn’t always be able to save me, but he does.
I love Mike.
He is so nice to me.
I think he loves me too even though he likes to pull my pigtails. It doesn’t hurt. To me, it feels like a little tug of everything is going to be o.k.
Mike is a great big brother. He always takes care of everything, especially me. Daddy says he is going to be a great husband one day.
I beelieve him because my brother is cool. He’s not as cool as me, but he is really nice. I feel like a princess whenever he is around. He even took care of the sores on my butt after Mama beat me so bad I culdn’t sit down for a week.
I don’t like Mama. I wish she would die.
Zelda Marie Fitzsimmons
Chapter 1- A Fantastic Friday
Michael had left for a site visit in Corpus Christie with a smile on his face and a search on his mind for an emerald cut blue topaz ring, flanked by four small diamonds which he said reminded him of Pip's cornflower blue eyes and her sparkling personality. Zelda’s brother was happy and she, in turn, was happy for him; however, something was off with Pip. She’d felt it from the first moment they met. The eagerness to please was a red flag, but a common-sense element balanced her out. Maybe she would be the ideal woman for her brother, but only time would tell after they sorted through the rubble of her falling into his lap for three weeks. Either he would come back from Las Vegas as an engaged man or a marathon sprint for the hills, thanking God Almighty for his narrow escape.
Based on how Pip shopped for clothing on her visit to Texas, as well as the items she purchased for her wardrobe, Zelda could tell she’d grown up poor. Watching her check the price of an item before picking it up was the first indicator. The second was knowing to the penny the cost of her selections before they were even rung up by the cashier was the other. Growing up, Michael had always taught her to make wise purchases based on need versus want and quality materials versus what was in style. She couldn’t recall a time when she had to consider the price of a pair of pants over the color and style she wanted. If the engagement between the two of them went through, Pip would have a totally different life as his wife. However, she wasn’t so sure the energetic redhead’s family would be accepting of Michael.
As much as Grandma Lula got on her last nerve, she was usually correct in her assessment of people. The old Bible thumper had said Pip was only one generation removed from the trailer park. That was a generous statement as far as Zelda was concerned. Pip seemed more like she moved out of the trailer park to a better neighborhood, but took the same poor mentality with her on her new life’s journey. Her behavior reminded Zelda of a woman named Cora she’d interviewed at a weight loss convention.
Although Cora had lost nearly two hundred pounds via a bariatric surgery, she still ate like a fat person bent on killing herself by overeating. Initially, Zelda thought having lunch with another woman who actually ate food, instead of toying with it on her plate, would be refreshing. However, Cora loaded her plate with starchy, fatty, and sweet treats, gorging herself until the food was forced to come out of one end or another. A little thing Cora felt a need to share with Zelda. She didn’t judge Cora. One thing life had taught her about people was that old habits were difficult to break – even for those who transcended poverty.
Pip had a few dollars, but she shopped and spent money like it was her last twenty until next week’s payday. Even buying groceries on Zelda’s dime, she opted for off-label or no-name brand products in which Zelda had acquiesced on a few items, but not on others. Pip carefully picked through marked dow
n, bruised fruits and veggies which were priced to sell. In Zelda’s mind, the appearance of the produce meant the food was almost rotten and only fit for soups or stews. The idea of her buying fruits and veggies so old that they may have lost their nutritional value bugged her, but on the other hand, knowing her brother would marry a frugal woman, outweighed the cheapskate in Pip. Zelda could skimp on a lot of products, but food and groceries were low on her list. Thinking of groceries reminded her that she was hungry.
Out of her own habits, all the meats in the freezer were sorted into packs of four. Two pieces for dinner, one for Michael’s lunch and the last as a just in case an extra mouth needed to be fed, was the norm for her grocery shopping. Looking at the pork chops, four would be too many, considering her brother would be away for almost two days on a work site.
A new reality settled into her as she walked around the large home, which seemed empty without his constant presence. Earlier in the day, she’d picked up her dry cleaning and his, too, returning home to hang the clothing in Michael’s closet. The laundry was done as well, prompting her to take fresh towels along with his folded items to his bedroom. Standing in the closet, immediately she noticed the difference in the arrangement of the shirts, tees, and pants. All of the same colors were grouped together like a rainbow of men’s apparel. His suits, ties, and sports coats were also organized by colors and gone were all of the normal dry-cleaning bags he usually left covering the clothing until it was time to wear the shirts, jackets or pants. She had noticed a similar organization in his bathroom with towels, bed linens, and pillowcases matched by colors.
“Good Lord! Pip is, even more, type A than he is,” she mumbled, taking the towels back to the hallway linen closet.
In the kitchen, she started the water to boil for the rice, then decided she didn’t want to eat alone. Picking up the phone, she selected a number she rarely, if ever, called. He answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Poppa Bear, do you have plans for the evening?”
Wilke, alarmed by her call, instantly assumed something was wrong. A booming heart thudded in his chest as he listened to the sound of her voice. “Just leftovers and something on Netflix,” he said coolly.
“Great. Dinner will be ready in an hour and I will have the TV fired up in the living room. See you in a few,” she said, clicking off the line.
Humming to herself, she took out the good china, set the dining room table, and opened a bottle of white wine. Even if he didn’t partake, tonight she felt she would need the whole bottle to wash down the half-truths he was going to tell or, she would need to gulp it down to swallow the actual truth he would reveal. Either way, the wine was in order for the evening along with a fresh salad that was added to the simple meal just as the doorbell rang. Languidly, she walked to the living room to let in her Daddy, who stood with a small bouquet of flowers, and wearing a dress shirt, slacks, a fancy silk tie, and a freshly shined pair of dress shoes. Honestly, she’d never seen the man in anything other than Bermuda shorts and a pair of crocs, leaving her to wonder how he actually supported himself for a living.
“You look sharp, and thank you,” she told him, opening the door to let him inside, accepting the fragrant flowers.
“Thank you; you do too. It’s not often a pretty young woman invites me to dinner. I had to look sharp,” he told her.
“Oh bah! You’ve been over to dinner before, Mr. Bautista,” she said.
“Nope, Sunday was the first time. I mean you have brought me plates on Thanksgiving and other holidays, but never had this old man come through the front door,” he said.
“I guess I was so used to you slipping in through the back fence,” she said, then slapped her hand over her mouth.
He didn’t flinch at the dig into his past with her mother. Instead, he broached it head on. “Zelda was my mother’s name,” he said, eyeing the table. His stomach rumbled at the smell of the wonderful food.
“Was that a Kelly Ann Conway pivot, Poppa Bear?”
“No, I’m hungry, and this smells a great deal better than what I was planning to eat. So, if this is a dinner to get answers out of me, fine, but feed me first,” he said.
“I invited you to dinner because you are going to have to give me away at my wedding. I at least deserve to know more about the man walking me down the aisle,” she told him.
“Fair enough,” he said, pulling out a chair for her to be seated.
He joined her at the table as she doled out generous helpings of food. In between bites, he shared with her his life and bits of his relationship with her mother. Wilke said very little to change her opinion of her mother, but the twinkle in his eye when he spoke of Iris Fitzsimmons echoed with Zelda.
“You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“Her death nearly destroyed me, Zelda,” he said. “Even today, I still miss her.”
“I find it hard to believe that she was loved by not only a gentle soul like you but another man, the one who married her. To think she was loved by you to the point of near destruction is mind-boggling, especially considering how horrible she was to me.”
“Much of that goes back to Lula. Your Grandmother was convinced that Iris’s beauty was going to be her downfall. That woman actually believed in this idea that pretty girls were empty-headed and easily influenced by a man’s sexual ability to influence a lady to do his will. Iris had all of these hang-ups about her looks, her self-esteem, and who she was as a woman. The few times when your mother did express herself, it ended in what she thought was punishment for the wickedness of her heart. She saw you as a punishment from God for her infidelity with me,” he said.
Swallowing hard, she understood that what he said made sense. Making a conscious choice to have the wine with dinner also made good sense as it was a bottle of liquid courage to ask the next question. Zelda, looked up from her plate, asking softly, “But how did you see me?”
“I see you as I always have, as my blessing,” he said.
“A blessing which destroyed your marriage,” she said softly.
“No, I ruined my relationship with Cordelia because I married her knowing I could never love her the way I loved Iris. In return for my infidelity, she turned my son against me. To this day, he does not speak to me,” he said with a fixed expression.
“Oh, great. That makes me feel worse,” she said, laying down her fork and knife. She poured more wine into her glass, offering him more as well which he declined.
“Yes, great. I have watched you grow into a beautiful woman. Your accomplishments became badges of honor for me and at your graduation from college as a full-fledged journalist, I cried. No, I don’t know that son, but my daughter is nothing less than...spectacular,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“That is the word Scott uses to describe me,” she said, missing the undertone of his previous statement.
“Yeah, about him. Nice guy, but not very attractive,” Wilke told her.
“He is beautiful to me,” she said. “Poppa Bear, more than anything I trust him. He taught me to swim, but more importantly, Scott showed me how to trust myself and my own judgment.”
“You are really going to marry him, aren’t you, and move to Kentucky of all places,” he said with sadness in his voice.
“I am going to marry him. Heck, he is flying out in a few days to join me in Vegas and I can’t wait to see him because I love that man,” she said.
“Love is going to have to be strong in a marriage with him, Zelda. That love will have to be a beacon lighting a dark place in order for your relationship to survive,” he said with a twist of his lips.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you are going to be mad as hell every time you look at your bucked toothed, hairy kids,” Wilke said with a chuckle.
Zelda threw her napkin at him.
“Don’t get mad when I bring them back from the zoo and people have been trying to feed your babies tasty treats,” he said, laughing.
“I don’t believe you just
said that to me! My babies are going to be adorable,” she countermanded.
“Yeah, but how many friends are they going to have as they walk around with their little puppets? Speaking of that, did the redhead take the creepy one that was sitting in the high chair in the kitchen?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. “All that thing needed was a little knife and I would have had nightmares for the rest of my days.”
Zelda guffawed at the reference to the Chucky doll. The same thought crossed her mind when she saw Pip’s vent doll. Seeing it in the high chair looking at her as if she owed it money and a hand job creeped, her out as well. Her laughter subsided as she looked at her father.
“When did you get to be so dang funny?”
“In the past week, I have found joy again through you. I hope you and Scott allow me to remain a part of your lives,” he said softly.
“Of course. I could not see my life without you silently watching over me, but the silent part I want to end. Poppa Bear, your days of slipping through the back fence and coming through the back door are over. Soon, I will be leaving for Vegas and then getting married and moving to Kentucky. Mike and Pip will be having their own family and your role as Grandpa is going to be important to both me and Michael,” he said.
“I’m not taking any of his kids to the zoo, either. The idea of all your damned children sitting around with little puppets throwing their voices gives me the willies,” he shuddered. “His kids are going to be funny looking, too.”
“Oh, hush. You are going to love each one of our babies,” she teased.
“Just as much as I love the two of you,” he said. “You know I am going to love your children. Michael and you mean the world to me.”
“You mean the world to us, too, but I can’t help but feel guilty at taking you away from your own son,” she said.
“My son is an adult and although I have reached out to him several times over the years, even attending events in his life, he still hates me.”
My Thursday Throwback Page 1