Spring Thaw



Doreen poured a cup of coffee and sank her chair: the Victorian parlor chair with red velvet upholstery that she'd scored curbside fourteen years ago. "Didn't pay a dime for it," she told visitors staring at this throne parked in the center of the cabin. She ran her hand across the armrest where Frodo had been allowed, nay, encouraged to chew freely and with gusto.

"My boy's teething," Dink would say, every time Doreen protested. She shook her head. That damn dog had been teething for nigh eight years.

"This chair is the best thing that ever happened to me," she said. And Dink, loyal vagrant of a husband, that part-timing, two-timing, constant-whining lazy-ass of a husband had let Frodo destroy it.

For three days, Dink had been gallivanting, rustling the skirts of the pretty young things that dotted the mountain like wildflowers. Every spring it was the same: Snow dissolved into rivulets. Robins appeared in the oaks. The soil loosened itself. Dink, hoeing the garden plot, would all a' sudden get that look in his eye. The look that said, I ain't getting any younger.


"It ain't easy," Doreen said, patting Frodo's head, "to go into town when everybody there knows whose bed Dink's keeping warm." She knew the tricks: The averted eyes. The polite inquires after her garden. The wide circle people swept with their mouths around the topic of her husband.

Doreen watched as the lights from Dink's pickup snagged on the windows of the cabin and dragged themselves across the floor. "He thinks he's gonna melt my heart with pretty words. He thinks he's gonna' traipse in here and tell me he's a changed man." Doreen shoved Frodo off her lap and stood. "But he's wrong. Cause I'm the one changed."

She grabbed her suitcase and let herself out the back door.

She didn't need to hear Dink's words.

She'd heard them all before.

She'd made it past the garden before she stopped.

That chair.

She couldn't leave it.

This was written for this week's Trifecta Writing Challenge. The word was melt.

Labels: ,

Writing in the Margins, Bursting at the Seams: Spring Thaw

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Spring Thaw



Doreen poured a cup of coffee and sank her chair: the Victorian parlor chair with red velvet upholstery that she'd scored curbside fourteen years ago. "Didn't pay a dime for it," she told visitors staring at this throne parked in the center of the cabin. She ran her hand across the armrest where Frodo had been allowed, nay, encouraged to chew freely and with gusto.

"My boy's teething," Dink would say, every time Doreen protested. She shook her head. That damn dog had been teething for nigh eight years.

"This chair is the best thing that ever happened to me," she said. And Dink, loyal vagrant of a husband, that part-timing, two-timing, constant-whining lazy-ass of a husband had let Frodo destroy it.

For three days, Dink had been gallivanting, rustling the skirts of the pretty young things that dotted the mountain like wildflowers. Every spring it was the same: Snow dissolved into rivulets. Robins appeared in the oaks. The soil loosened itself. Dink, hoeing the garden plot, would all a' sudden get that look in his eye. The look that said, I ain't getting any younger.


"It ain't easy," Doreen said, patting Frodo's head, "to go into town when everybody there knows whose bed Dink's keeping warm." She knew the tricks: The averted eyes. The polite inquires after her garden. The wide circle people swept with their mouths around the topic of her husband.

Doreen watched as the lights from Dink's pickup snagged on the windows of the cabin and dragged themselves across the floor. "He thinks he's gonna melt my heart with pretty words. He thinks he's gonna' traipse in here and tell me he's a changed man." Doreen shoved Frodo off her lap and stood. "But he's wrong. Cause I'm the one changed."

She grabbed her suitcase and let herself out the back door.

She didn't need to hear Dink's words.

She'd heard them all before.

She'd made it past the garden before she stopped.

That chair.

She couldn't leave it.

This was written for this week's Trifecta Writing Challenge. The word was melt.

Labels: ,

20 Comments:

At December 10, 2013 at 8:37 AM , Anonymous injaynesworld said...

Bravo! Love this one, especially the ending.

 
At December 10, 2013 at 9:52 AM , Blogger Michelle Stanley said...

You got all the emotional anger out of the wife, then dropped that ending. Loved that, Good post.

 
At December 10, 2013 at 9:59 AM , Blogger j umbaugh said...

You paint so many details in with the story... Like being there., This is ANOTHER good one. You left me wondering if the chair was an excuse or a reason to go back... Always leave us wondering don't you?

 
At December 10, 2013 at 2:37 PM , OpenID theinnerzone said...

Oh this is just so good, Kelly! love the details, the dialogue, the pace, just about everything. Lovely, lovely work! Wish I could write so effortlessly and with such an impact.

 
At December 10, 2013 at 5:11 PM , Blogger Linda Rosen said...

Great details, Kelly. And I love the ending. I could see her stop and look back and I sure hope she does take the chair.

 
At December 10, 2013 at 9:18 PM , Blogger Jo-Anne Teal said...

Kelly, simply wonderful! Your writing flows so naturally and is so in tune with the character. Really enjoyed reading this piece. :))))

 
At December 11, 2013 at 4:54 AM , Blogger Yeshasvi Mahadev said...

Beautiful piece! Totally in love with the protagonist :D

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:37 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thanks so much for reading!

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:37 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thank you, Jo-Anne. It was a fun write!

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:38 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thanks, Linda!

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:38 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thanks so much! Just read your work - Terrific job!

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:38 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thanks for reading!

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:39 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thank you, Michelle - Last minute change to that ending - It wasn't where it was going to go.

 
At December 11, 2013 at 1:39 PM , Blogger Kelly Garriott Waite said...

Thank you Jayne! I didn't expect that ending...

 
At December 12, 2013 at 9:43 AM , Blogger Trifecta said...

This is another excellent write, Kelly. The characterisation is just fabulous. You know, you could do without the last line and it still packs a punch without being so explicit. Loved reading this. Thanks for linking up!

 
At December 12, 2013 at 10:45 AM , Anonymous JannaTWrites said...

You've painted the characters well. I was rooting for her to leave Dink. Maybe one day she'll get a trailer (to haul the chair) and do it :)

 
At December 12, 2013 at 1:52 PM , Blogger Atreyee said...

A fantastic piece once again Kelly-makes one introspect-not so easy to leave ,is it?Loved the voice your character has and the pacing was perfect!

 
At December 12, 2013 at 10:01 PM , OpenID trudgingthroughfog said...

Oh, that chair - wonderful, WONDERFUL! I absolutely adore your writing. It is so precise, satisfyingly so.

 
At December 13, 2013 at 4:24 AM , Blogger kymm said...

I love Darlene and her chair. These was such subtle shifting going on all the way through this piece, right up to the end.
Glad I can't tell if she'll stay because of the chair, or take the chair and go!

 
At December 14, 2013 at 10:20 PM , OpenID momosapien said...

I loved her voice and the descriptions of Dink especially - loyal vagrant of a husband. I liked reading that you surprised yourself with the ending - isn't it fun when that happens? Great job, Kelly!

 

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