- The River City Chronicles by J. Scott Coatsworth - Part Seven
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There were two giraffes, one adult and one baby, just five feet away, their heads straining over the wooden railing toward him. Their spots were the softest velour, a lovely deep, rusty brown. The younger giraffe reached out toward him, and he held up the leafy branch like a sword. The giraffe took the branch in its mouth, chewing on it and pulling Dave forward in the process. Can I touch him? Carlos shook his head. Marcos laughed out loud. Give him the other branch. She chewed on it sedately, staring down at them with what Dave could only describe as a lazy smile.
For his answer, Dave pulled Marcos against the railing, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed him. Hey, we already bought the tickets.http://badgepirates.burnsforce.com/10313.php
The River City Chronicles by J. Scott Coatsworth - Part Seven
Dave glanced back at the giraffes, the older one bobbing its head to take a branch from a little girl, who squealed in delight. Diego sat in coach, waiting for the plane to taxi and take off. Going home should have been a joyous occasion, a chance to see his family—his sister and his mother especially—and all their old friends. To find some way to get out of a decades old marriage before it ruined his new life.
Though reforms had been enacted earlier in the year to cut down the time it took to get a divorce, it still meant at least a six-month delay under most circumstances. Far too long. If the immigration authorities caught on before he and Matteo could fix things, he might be thrown out of the United States for good. I have a son. That was one more thing to face up to. If Luna were telling the truth—and with her, one never knew—there was a grown man waiting to meet him.
Diego had been with Luna in for a brief time, so that would make his son what… twenty-seven? It was hard for Diego to absorb—that he might have a son who was already almost into his thirties whom he had never met. Did the man know about Diego?
Did he hate him? Did he wonder why his father had never come to see him, had never been a part of his life? Luna should have told him. Should have let him make his own choice when it came to the boy—the man. Diego had sent his sister a long email, explaining everything that was going on with Matteo and Luna. But he had to try. Diego smiled. Matteo was thinking about him, even in the midst of the rush at Ragazzi.
Diego was doing this for the two of them, putting something right that he should have done a long time before. He turned his phone off and shoved it in his pocket as the plane finally turned onto the runway and the engines powered up, pushing the jet down the runway and up into the late morning sky. Carmelina sat in the comfy chair in the nook by the doorway at the Everyday Grind location closest to River Park.
Across the street, the old House of Fashion building sat empty. It was a gorgeous old white building, a bit worn and tattered with age, one that had seen the coming and going of so many seasons that it had approached a sort of timelessness. She felt shaken to the core. Why would God do this to her? Play this wretched trick?
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Dave pulled off his jacket and sank down in the chair across from her. Are you doing all right? But I want you to tell me everything when I get back. Dave had been her go-to guy ever since Arthur had died. He was a rock and always found time for her, no matter how busy he might be. He was back in a minute with a decaf Americano and a plate of assorted lemon and chocolate scones. What happened? Carmelina nodded. After burying Arthur, that is. But I had to hear it from his own lips. She gave him a wan smile.
After a moment, he let go and pulled his chair over to sit down next to her. There was only one thing she wanted. That she needed. Check back in two weeks for the next part of the story — published the second and fourth Wednesdays of each month. The class continued to get bigger, and made Chicken Cacciatore together. Find out next. She read on. She is survived by her two-year-old daughter, Mary Smith. So Andrea had a daughter! And Carmelina had her name: Mary. She stared at the black-and-white photo of her daughter.
She scrolled up to check the date at the top of the page. September 23rd. Arthur had tried to tell her. Carmelina made it to the stall just before the contents of her stomach came spewing out. She retched until her stomach felt as empty as her heart and mind. He killed my baby girl. Matteo looked up from the Square app on his iPad. Diego started to say something, but the door chime rang out.
I am… eccitante? Marcos squinted at it. Oly shit. Marcos checked his phone. See you guys in a few. But I had to tell someone. And I trust him. Marcos leaned forward. The boy looked like a walking skateboard ad. Then she kissed him. Marcos sat back in the seat, flummoxed. She has a boyfriend.
So, anything exciting happen at school today?
Fever Crumb: Prequel to the fantastic Hungry City Chronicles
Marissa had a boyfriend. Was he supposed to do anything about it? And if so, what? Must be friends. Best flavor. Here, let me show you how. He was so not looking forward to that. In the meantime though, he had to run home to get ready for his hot date. His mother would be proud. Better to be who he was than pretend to be something else.
Marcos waited a moment to see if the couple on the bikes came back around. No such luck. He shook his head and went to knock on the door. Dave opened it, flashing him a big grin. Anything I can do to help? Go ahead. Get started. Dave wrapped his own food up burrito style and wolfed it down. That was the moment, Marcos would realize much later, that he started to fall in love.
Someone to blame, to yell at, to absolve her of her own guilt. Only gnawing guilt, anger, and more questions. Breathe, Carmelina, breathe. Nevertheless, it all rang hollow. The doorbell rang. She had been crying on and off for hours. She knew she must be quite a sight. What she had never had. Not really. But it was with Tris. Markham called from her desk. And your brother is in school at Bella Vista. Where you should be. Marissa stopped, hand on the door knob. Lesbian thing? Just a phase? Then she ran down the hall, eager to be away from that horrible woman.
Whatever you want. Ben grinned. How could I say no? Mind if I tag along? The man smiled and then looked away. Sam shook his head. What a pleasant surprise.
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But sometimes you need a pinch hitter at the bottom of the ninth. The man was chatting with a couple of women from the session. He shivered and followed Ben out of the room. Jessica stared back at him, her beautiful raven-black hair framing her face. Seven long years to get to this place, to go from there to here. He was done apologizing. Done conforming. Done with Jessica. Jessica was dead, whether his mother accepted that or not. And Jesse had a hell of a lot of living to do. Instead, he was numb. Yet the idea ate at him, worming its way into his head.
He knew where to find Ella. Maybe this had been a bad idea after all. Maybe he should just go home; try this another time. That was bad. Help me up? She looks like an angel. At last, she nodded. Marcos nodded, grinning like a little kid. Marcos laughed, then frowned. Feed them. The giraffe sniffed it and turned away.
Marcos held him tight. Dave felt safe. Thank you. What an extraordinary, unexpected thing Marcos had shared with him. That was the moment, Dave would realize much later, that he started to fall in love. Diego stared out the window glumly at the line of planes waiting ahead of them. Matteo should have been here with him. Diego cursed the Italian legal system. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off. He just knew he had to try. His phone buzzed. Remember, I love you, no matter what. He had to remember that.
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Carmelina could relate. Dave waved at her through the window. Look at her mother. It hurt too much to have him there. I am christian and living near Doire in N. Your portrait of Columb is not religious which would be showing off his saint-hood without acknowledging his man-hood with all human weakness. For a time I was very intrigued by Patrick, such an unassuming figure, who so significantly changed the scape of Ireland in a lifetime…that is enough to see someone more than Patrick was here. How good there are a few manuscripts by him left.
For a time we lived opposite a park called after St. Columb in Doire; they have recently put an impressive sculpture of the towering figure of Columb in there. I could send you a few pictures through your e. The pace of writing has slowed somewhat, though: my family and I are in the midst of a move to Belgium. As a mediaeval historian, it will be great to be back in Europe full-time. Look for the book in By: pauladefougerolles on October 10, at pm. Really looking for to Book 3, missing the characters!! You are commenting using your WordPress.
You are commenting using your Google account. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email. Contact me. Like this: Like Loading By: Nancy Langfeld on September 30, at pm Reply. By: pauladefougerolles on October 2, at am Reply.
By: Nancy Langfeld on October 2, at am Reply. Done, Nancy!
By: jhvn on February 19, at am Reply. Hope that helps! By: pauladefougerolles on April 21, at pm Reply. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Ness City Chronicles , please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Community Reviews. Showing Rating details.
Sort order. Apr 27, Virginia Jackson rated it it was amazing. Reminiscing This is a book of stories. They are told as if the writer were right with you, talking about his childhood. I really enjoyed the short stories. I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys stories about the days of old. Jun 26, Stephanie Boswell rated it it was ok. The book was okay. Each chapter was a different story from the authors childhood.