Skip Hammels


The day Skip Hammels decided to go down on one knee to ask Cherise Devine to marry him bloomed bright.  Watching that ball of fire ease its way up over the horizon, Skip knew: Sure as that sun belonged up there in the sky, Cherise Devine belonged to him.

Skip selected a pair of his best linen slacks and a button-down shirt, baby blue and ironed to perfection.  His tie was red.  His shoes were Italian leather, soft as a baby’s bottom, brown with red undertones. 

He styled his hair, winking at himself once, just to determine if the effect that wink had on the girls would work the same magic on himself.

It did: Skip hadn’t known it was possible for a man to believe in himself even more than he had a moment ago.

Skip left by the front door, taking care to check the lock twice before stepping onto the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, a whistle on his lips. 


At Cherise’s house, Skip pressed the doorbell and sank to one knee.  The porch was damp. 

The door opened.  “What you doing down there, boy?”  Mr. Devine frowned.

“I lost my contact lens.”  Skip squinted and patted the porch.

“Ah, hell.  I’ll get Cherise.  She can find a needle in a haystack.”

“Daddy said you were looking for something.”  Cherise stepped out. Her feet were bare.  Her toes were painted a bright red. 

Skip stood; wiped his hands on his pants.  “Cherise Devine, I’d like you to be my wife.”

Cherise laughed.  “Well I wouldn’t like that at all.” 

Well, Skip thought, this was new.  His shirt had come untucked.  His tie had a piece of grass on it.  His knee was dark and wet. 

As the sun tucked itself behind the horizon Skip scrubbed at the stain in his knee.  He hung his pants to dry.  
“I’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, winking at himself in the mirror before heading to the closet to pick out a new outfit.

This post was written in response to Trifecta's Writing Challenge.  The word was new.

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Writing in the Margins, Bursting at the Seams: Skip Hammels

Monday, June 4, 2012

Skip Hammels


The day Skip Hammels decided to go down on one knee to ask Cherise Devine to marry him bloomed bright.  Watching that ball of fire ease its way up over the horizon, Skip knew: Sure as that sun belonged up there in the sky, Cherise Devine belonged to him.

Skip selected a pair of his best linen slacks and a button-down shirt, baby blue and ironed to perfection.  His tie was red.  His shoes were Italian leather, soft as a baby’s bottom, brown with red undertones. 

He styled his hair, winking at himself once, just to determine if the effect that wink had on the girls would work the same magic on himself.

It did: Skip hadn’t known it was possible for a man to believe in himself even more than he had a moment ago.

Skip left by the front door, taking care to check the lock twice before stepping onto the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, a whistle on his lips. 


At Cherise’s house, Skip pressed the doorbell and sank to one knee.  The porch was damp. 

The door opened.  “What you doing down there, boy?”  Mr. Devine frowned.

“I lost my contact lens.”  Skip squinted and patted the porch.

“Ah, hell.  I’ll get Cherise.  She can find a needle in a haystack.”

“Daddy said you were looking for something.”  Cherise stepped out. Her feet were bare.  Her toes were painted a bright red. 

Skip stood; wiped his hands on his pants.  “Cherise Devine, I’d like you to be my wife.”

Cherise laughed.  “Well I wouldn’t like that at all.” 

Well, Skip thought, this was new.  His shirt had come untucked.  His tie had a piece of grass on it.  His knee was dark and wet. 

As the sun tucked itself behind the horizon Skip scrubbed at the stain in his knee.  He hung his pants to dry.  
“I’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, winking at himself in the mirror before heading to the closet to pick out a new outfit.

This post was written in response to Trifecta's Writing Challenge.  The word was new.

Labels:

13 Comments:

At June 4, 2012 at 9:16 PM , Anonymous Paula J said...

This was great. I can see all your characters clearly.

 
At June 4, 2012 at 9:58 PM , Anonymous JannaTWrites said...

Somehow, I don't think the new outfit will change her mind :) Poor guy is so into himself, he doesn't have any idea that she can't possibly love him as much as he loves himself. (I think I dated this guy....)

 
At June 5, 2012 at 5:24 AM , Anonymous Mary said...

Ah, perpetual optimism.

 
At June 5, 2012 at 5:36 AM , Anonymous jaum said...

I KNOW/KNEW people like Skip! You got him perfect! Cherise needs to get a 2 x 4 to get his attention!

 
At June 5, 2012 at 9:27 AM , Anonymous treadingwaterinthekiddiepool said...

This was so cute. Love it!

 
At June 5, 2012 at 9:30 AM , Anonymous Gina said...

Loved this. Loved his "wink" and his very high regard of himself. Laughed at Cherise's response. And that he just picked himself up and will try again tomorrow. Oh to live with such self confidence...

 
At June 5, 2012 at 9:49 AM , Anonymous Annabelle said...

That made me laugh. And good for Cherise!

 
At June 5, 2012 at 10:23 AM , Anonymous Carrie said...

LOL, poor Skip...will he keep trying forever and ever?

 
At June 5, 2012 at 10:34 PM , Anonymous Lisa Nolan said...

We always want what we can't have! Great details in your writing!

 
At June 6, 2012 at 6:40 AM , Anonymous Sandrasfiberworks said...

Priceless. Great scene. You have such a well-tuned ear for dialogue.

 
At June 7, 2012 at 8:52 AM , Anonymous Jessie Powell said...

Haha! I knew from the overconfidence that she would say no - good foreshadowing! But I love his continued confidence at the end. "Oh well, ask again."

 
At June 7, 2012 at 9:10 PM , Anonymous Trifectawritingchallenge said...

I love that his charm even worked on himself. And I loved the whimsical and fanciful feel to this piece.
Thanks for joining in with us again. Don't forget to come back for the new prompt tomorrow.

 
At June 7, 2012 at 10:05 PM , Anonymous Who's That Chelle said...

Nothing like believing in your mission. Excellent story.

 

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