Day 9/366

And now she had to find that phone and uncover her middle child's misbehavior.  "Hey, kids?  Have either of you--" she shouted up the staircase, but the front door opened and her voice vanished.

Her middle child, her easy child, her precious child--there stood Ellie.

Covered in what appeared to be blood.

*****************************************************************************
So, what do you think happened?  I have a feeling you won't be able to guess!

Creatively Yours,

Deena

All words are property of Deena Peterson and not to be used without permission

Day 8/366

All Leslie wanted was one day of peace.
Just one twenty-four hour period with no drama.
...

Simply one thousand, four hundred and forty-four hours when her name wasn't "Hey, Mom", or her personal favorite, "But Mom".
Was it really too much to ask?

Day 7/366

What seemed so simple to start
Is tearing my brain apart
Write every day...
Let your muse play
All good lest I have a brain fart!

All words property of Deena Peterson and not to be copied without permission (but really...who'd wanna steal this one!)

Day 6/366

A huge sigh built up in Leslie's chest, but she refused to give in.  Her mother was a 'sigh-er' when she was unhappy but wasn't free to express herself.  No, Leslie would use her words to get her point across.

Just as she finally felt motivated to head upstairs to check on her two kids, the house phone rang.  She was tempted to ignore it, but Peter only called the house number, and he was due to touch base.  "Only a few more weeks," she mumbled under her breath, hunting for the cordless receiver.

Not on the base.  Not on the sofa.  "Where is the phone?!" she exclaimed, not expecting a response in return.  Fourth ring, and the answering machine kicked on.  Leslie growled as she threw couch cushions on the carpeted floor.

Beep!  "Mrs. Majorski, this is the principal at Grace Elementary.  We have a situation with your daughter Regan, and I'd like to invite you to meet with me as soon as possible.  I'm sure we can resolve this without any repercussions, but we need to act quickly.  Please call me as soon as you receive this message."

Falling onto the sofa cushions, Leslie covered her eyes with her forearm and swallowed the emotion welling up inside.  She refused to be weak, and tears were a weakness.  Every time her mother broke down she heard her father berate the woman, until one day Mom just stopped crying.

And stopped pretty much everything else as well.

But Ellie was her dream child.  Never fussed as a baby, always happy.  Content to play by herself and very easy going.  In fact, Ellie was the reason Peter had been able to talk her into just one more baby.  Ellie had just turned 12 a few weeks ago, so she had awhile before the teen angst made its appearance...

...didn't she?

"You can do this, LJ," she whispered, an attempt to rally her tough spirit.  "Only a month before Peter can come home on leave, and you can hold it together for that long.  Don't be weak.  Hold strong."  Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up to continue her search for the phone, possible scenarios involving her middle child running in the background of her mind.

*******************************************************************************

What in the world had Ellie gotten involved in?  Why does the principal want to meet asap?  And act fast or...what??

Hmmmmm....have to wait and see!

Creatively Yours,
Deena

All words are property of Deena Peterson and may not be used without permission

Day 5/366

"What in the world?"  Leslie felt trapped in granite, unable to move or close her eyes to what she was witnessing.  "How dare you--"

"Mom!  It's not what you think!"  Her fifteen year old son scrambled to gather his belongings, dropping his tennis shoe on his foot and wincing, then reaching down and grabbing it again.

"I know what I'm seeing, and I don't want to see what I'm seeing!"  Her face flushed and her vision blurred around the edges.  Her hand grabbed at the doorknob and pulled the door shut.  "I--I don't even know what to say to you right now, Kyle!"

His muffled voice came through the closed door, and she winced at the panic she heard.  A small part of her heart ached for him, but the majority of her being was enraged at the disrespect.  If Peter was home--

--no, she wasn't going to go there.  She was more than capable of raising their three children while her husband made his contribution to the defense of their country.  This was his final tour before his current enlistment was up, and Leslie had promised herself that he would re-up or retire based on his desires, and not hers.

She refused to be like her own mom, always hearing about how they would have been better off if she'd only agreed to one more four year enlistment, to only one more try for promotion...if she had supported and not blocked Dad's opportunities because she 'just couldn't do it any longer.'

That was not going to be her.  Her back steel rod straight, Leslie headed down the stairs to the living room, determined to calm down and rationally discuss this transgression with her oldest son.  A level head does not speak unwisely--again her father's voice echoed in her head.

The back door slammed, rattling the windows and her nerves.  "Mom!  Hey, Mom?"  The enthusiasm of her ten year old daughter was normally infectious, but today, in this moment, was grating.  "Oh, there you are!"

"Jessica, how many times have I told you not to slam the doors?  We don't own this house, and we can't afford to replace any broken windows or damaged locks!"  Leslie cringed at the shrill tone in her voice, and felt horrible as she watched the light drain out of her baby girl's hazel eyes.

"Sorry," Jessica mumbled, standing motionless in the doorway.  "I just was....oh, nevermind."  A quick pivot and she was headed up to her room, ignoring her mother's inquiry. 

"Hey, Brat,"  was quickly followed by "Whatever, Genius," the usual meet and greet for her oldest and youngest.  "What's up with Mom?" came drifting down the stairs as the two paced down the hall to her room.

*****************************************************************************

So, what did Leslie see?  And what did Jessica want to tell her mom?  Can Leslie hold it together, or is she at her wit's end?

I have no idea.  Let's find out together tomorrow, shall we?

Creatively Yours,

Deena

All words property of Deena Peterson and not to be used without permission.

Day 4/366

"Mom," Roger announced in his most obnoxious manner, "Aunt Millie broken the rule of the house and now she won't pay up!"  One more aggressive shake of the jar punctuated his lament.

Millie snorted and shook her head.  "Honestly, Josephine, can't you teach this boy any manners?"  Her tightly permed gray curls bobbed with indignation.  "I hardly think calling out his elders is proper behavior."

Mom sighed, a familiar crease in her forehead.  "No, it's not Aunt Millie.  And I do try my best, but--"

"It's true, Mom," I interrupted.  "Aunt Millie did break the house rule about inappropriate language."  I caught my aunt's gaze and gave her a sly wink.  "She said...she said..." I mused, feigning forgetfulness.  Directing my eyes toward Aunt Sophie, I asked "Auntie, do you recall the word Aunt Millie abused?"

Sophie caught on immediately, and she joined my ruse.  "Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue!  What was it..."

I could see Roger's frustration building.  "I know it, but for some reason..."

"Oh, good grief," he exclaimed.  "She said stupid!"

Mom's eyes widened and she fought off a grin.  "What did she say?"

Roger crowed with great satisfaction, "She said stupid!"  He shook his change jar for emphasis.

"No," I shook my head, staring up at the ceiling.  If I looked at my brother I'd lose it for sure.  "I don't think that's what she said, little brother."

"Yes, it is!  She said it three times!" he insisted.

Millie couldn't resist, and she glared at him as she asked, "I said what three times, young man?"

Roger met her steely eyed gaze and carefully enunciated, "You.  Said. Stupid.  Three. Times."

Aunt Millie cackled and her eyes snapped with glee.  "Why, yes I did say that word three times.  And I believe you've also just said it three times yourself, Mr. Man!"

His mouth fell open as he realized what the women in his life were up to, then fury crept over his usually good natured features.  "Hey!"

That was all he got out before Mom stepped in, her own brown eyes twinkling.  It was so good to see the light back in her eyes, and I owed it all to my aunts.  My crazy, wonderful aunts.  "I'd call that even and stop when I was ahead, Son."

Aunt Sophie ruffled my brother's hair affectionately, and amazingly, he didn't growl about it.  Instead, he grinned and told our mom, "Yeah, you got the best of me this time, Aunt Millie.  But I'm watching you," he added, two fingers toward his eyes then toward her.  "I'm always watching you," he left her with, disappearing upstairs with his jingle cash.

The four of us had a good laugh, and then it was time to work on dinner.  Thanks to the gracious gift of my extended family, we worked together seamlessly and it felt good once again to be together.

********************************************************************************

But, what about Dad?  How is he doing?  And will Roger get back at Aunt Millie?

That's a story for another time.

Creatively Yours,

Deena

All words property of Deena Peterson and may not be used with permission

Day 3/366

Laughter seemed intangible for the longest time.  My dad, the anchor of our home, was diagnosed with MS, and his deterioration was rapid.  Mom took excellent care of him, and I left college in my freshman year to come home and help.

Eventually, we reached our limit and felt we had no other choice but to find a place my dad could receive round the clock care.  Seeing him in that hospital bed and knowing he'd never leave it in this life did something to Mom.

Her bottle green eyes used to spark with life and energy, until Dad was moved out.  I guess we just didn't have enough left in our love tanks to pay the energy bill, and the dullness of my mom's gaze became a haze that coated our once happy home.

Actually, by then I'd started calling it a house because we had no warmth in our dwelling place.  My overly rambunctious brother was so quiet and calm I never knew when he was here or at a friend's place.  Quiet became our blanket, and it was suffocating.

Until the aunts arrived.

Aunt Sophie and Aunt Millie were my great-aunts, but we just called them the Aunts.  It was Roger who announced that calling Millie his Great-Aunt would go to her head, so we just called her plain old Aunt Millie.

After a couple of weeks with them in residence the light began to gleam again in my mom's steady gaze, and Roger was up to his old antics, with an added flare of torment courtesy of his nemesis Millie.  She gave his mischief the added boost he didn't need, but brought him great inspiration.

So, while confusion would reign quite often, I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Now, if I could just get Aunt Sophie to stop saying I was promoting the occult!

********************************************************************************

Will Aunt Sophie ever get with the program?  What kind of antics were Roger and Millie perfecting?  And how is Dad doing in his new living situation?

Dunno.

Creatively Yours,
Deena

All words are property of Deena Peterson and may not be used without permission.