Sunday, November 6, 2022
💜Sunday's Sport Stats(National Family Caregiver Month Edition)💜: Back Check by RJ Scott & VL Locey
Summary:
Meeting Joachim could save his daughter’s life, but it may well cost Isaac his heart.
It’s been one hell of a year for Joachim Löfgren. After a long summer in rehab, he’s been moved to a new town, one far away from the warm Florida sun he so adores, to bolster a struggling Boston defense since the departure of their beloved team captain. He hasn’t even unpacked his skates properly when fate lands another blow, and he’s told that he is dad to a gravely ill child he never knew existed. It’s an easy decision for the burly defenseman to help and he opens up his new home to his child and her guardian Isaac. He’s instantly enchanted with the preschooler as well as her uncle and decides that his life will only be complete if his daughter is part of it. Filing for custody is the only option he feels he has, but this throws his budding relationship with Isaac into utter chaos. The two men soon find themselves on opposite sides of the courtroom as they both fight for the life they feel is best for Sophia.
Despite grieving for the loss of his sister, Isaac doesn’t hesitate to take on the responsibility for his newborn niece Sophia, creating a brand new family of two built on love and laughter. He has a steady income painting pet portraits during the day, but it’s the subversive and satirical cartoons he draws at night that silence his thoughts in the dark. They don’t have much as a family, but he is Sophia’s dad now, and nothing and no one will ever come between them. When a routine pediatric checkup shows that Sophia is ill, it forces Isaac to confront every one of his fears. Finding a matching donor is her only hope, and Isaac begins the journey to find Sophia’s mysterious father. There are no names or dates in his sister’s battered journal, and all Isaac knows is that he’s looking for a hockey player who was nothing more than a one-night stand. Little does he know that finding Joachim could destroy everything.
First of all, the black cover in the authors' hockey universe where the book covers are generally light colored helps to set the tone of heartbreak that starts the story off. Just goes to show you that cover colors can sometimes do way more than the character representation on said cover to highlight a story's emotions. Brilliant work, Meredith Russell on another great cover design!
Second, part of me wants to be upset with Scott & Locey for making me tear up in a crowded hospital cafeteria but the truth is they represented what teared me up so beautifully that I can't be anything but pleased. This isn't a spoiler because we know that Isaac is caring for his niece because his sister died so I'll touch on it. To be honest, the part that made me tear up is not a lengthy scene but still close to my heart. My mom has been in the hospital for over 100 days now and I've been at her side the entire time so that's why I was in a crowded cafeteria when I was reading Back Check. When I was born my mom had pre-eclampsia and was in a coma for 4 days but survived and when I read it in a book it always makes me grateful for how lucky our family was that Mom survived but it also makes me sad for the character that doesn't. The scene is short and only a few pages if that but the authors wrote the emotions so spot-on that I had to start poking at my eyes a bit so I wouldn't go from a few tears to full on blubbering.
As for Joachim and Isaac. My great grandfather was an alcoholic who took his own life a year before my mother was born but it left a lasting impression on the family so whenever I see someone, in fiction or reality, take the path of recovery I will always be rooting for them and it's no different with Joachim. I'll admit, there are a few scenes where I'd like to take a frying pan to his head to knock a little sense in but I can say the same about Isaac. Communication is key and bad communication or rush-to-judgement can definitely be a ginormous wet blanket on a blossoming relationship. But then where would the fun be if there wasn't some tension that makes us readers want to bash their heads together?😉😉
At times I would have liked to seen more of Sophia because she's just so darn cute and adorable and I want to protect her from all the evils of the world but then I thought about it and considering the characters' journey, I think Back Check is a very well balanced story and the authors definitely knew what they were doing.
Anyone wondering about series order for reading, I can't imagine reading any series other than the original release order but truth is, each book has a beginning and end because of the different characters at the center. However, there are a few mentions of previous couples that I think make friendships and teammates flow better but it isn't a must that they be read as written. You won't be lost by any means but I do warn you, you see just enough of the previous characters that you'll be enticed to go back and discover their journeys.
RATING:
“Hey, guys, did you see this story coming out of Fort Lauderdale?”
Everyone looked at me.
“I didn’t do it,” I quickly said as I lifted my hands up innocently. “I was here in Boston.”
“No, it’s nothing bad like you’re used to,” Austin blurted out. Xander swatted him upside the head. The boy’s eyes bugged out, and his soft cheeks turned scarlet. “Oh! No, I didn’t mean you did bad stuff! Being drunk isn’t bad. Well, it kind of is bad when you run off the road and hit a mailbox. It’s not bad in a bad way. It’s, uhm… well, it’s just an addiction right, and you’re not drinking anymore so it’s all okay. No, well, okay in that you’ve stopped drinking and are now—”
“It’s okay, Rowe, I know what you meant, and it’s fine. I did some pretty fucked up things when I was under the influence of alcohol.”
Austin wilted a bit. “Okay, thanks. I didn’t mean to imply that addictions are bad. I mean they are! No, not bad like bad but—”
“It’s okay, kid. Just move onto the news story.” I chuckled. Moral lobbed a chunk of apple at Austin. He ducked it and the glob smacked Kyle in the cheek.
“Right, yeah, so there’s this guy down in Florida who’s looking for a bone marrow donor for his daughter. He showed up at a preseason hockey game to search for some mysterious fan called ‘Hockey Guy’ which the dead mother named as the possible father.”
“Shit, so the guy is raising his daughter alone?” Moral asked, the sad news slowing his inhalation of muffins for a moment.
“Wait…” He placed his muffin on its plate. “If he’s the father then why is he looking for the father?”
“He’s the baby’s uncle but has been raising her as her father. It’s all super sad and everyone in the league is signing up to see if they’re a match for the little girl with leukemia. Look at her.” He showed us all an image of an adorable little girl of perhaps three and her daddy/uncle who was also cute as hell. “We should sign up.”
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Boston Rebels
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
Harrisburg Series
Owatonna U Series
Saturday, November 5, 2022
💜Saturday's Series Spotlight(National Family Caregiver Month Edition)💜: San Capistrano by Angelique Jurd Part 2
Summary:
A storm is brewing in San Capistrano. When it finally breaks will Alex and Ben be the same?
Alex has a happy life now. He and Ben now have two beautiful little girls, Ally and Lucy, who help Ben’s grandmother, Polly, keep both men on their toes. Life seems perfect.
Until Alex's mother shows up, opening old wounds and revealing secrets Alex never wanted Ben to know about. When Janice's hatred for Alex overflows and is taken out on Ally and Lucy, Alex is forced to confront his past and decide what he wants from his future.
How will his relationship with Ben stand up in light of Janice's actions?
Stormy Seas is Book 4 in The San Capistrano Series - an ongoing series, featuring the same couple.
This book deals with family feuds and facing the past, even when it is painful. There is also reference to past physical abuse by a parent.
Summary:
Peace and calm are not always the same thing.
For the first time in his life, Alex is able to face his past without fear and look toward the future with hope. As he and Ben find their way back to a normal family life with their daughters, Alex begins to open up and become the man Ben always believed he could be.
When he takes up a role in a free clinic, Alex encounters a teenage boy who has been neglected and rejected by his parents. Will Alex be able to cope when he and Ben decide to take the boy in? Will the new family member help him take the last steps into the lightness of being loved?
Scattered Shells is Book 5 in an ongoing series featuring the same couple and features found family, the aftermath of trauma, and the importance of lace.
Life in the San Capistrano beach house is good. Ben and Alex's family is settled and happy as they navigate day to day life.As they prepare for Halloween they get some news that may finally offer Alex the closure on his past he so desperately needs.
Haunted Seas is a short story in The San Capistrano Series . It is NOT a paranormal romance.
Stormy Seas #4
1
The man hands the woman an envelope, pinches a crease in his trousers, and sips his coffee. He watches while she opens it, puts the USB stick to one side, and slides the photographs out.
There are six photographs in total, all taken from a distance but all clear and sharp. The man is good; he knows his job.
In the first picture a tall man in a suit holds the hand of a small girl with pigtails, a backpack hanging from his other hand. If you look closely, you can see Elsa from Frozen on the backpack. Next to them an even taller man, with hair covering his collar, is being pulled along by a large Labrador. The hand not holding the leash cups the head of the baby strapped to his chest in a baby sling.
The second and third photos show the man in the suit – now in jeans – pushing a pram, the little girl clinging to the handles. The fourth photograph shows all four again. This time they’re at a park, under a tree, surrounded by the remnants of a picnic. The taller of the two, with the long hair, is giving the baby a bottle; the small girl is bent over the baby’s head, placing a kiss in the fuzzy hair. The fifth shows the little girl running down the steps of a day care center, pig tails flying, arms wide toward him as he waits, arms open, face beaming.
The woman drops the fifth photo on the pile and looks at the final image. Disgust and rage twist her mouth and narrow her eyes. It’s more than that, the man across the desk thinks. Hatred. Pure hatred. After a few moments, she tears the image of the two men, hand in hand, leaning into each other, lips almost touching, into shreds; the pieces flutter to the floor as she gathers the envelope, the USB stick, and her purse. Stands.
“I shall call you if I need anything else.” Her voice is icy.
She leaves and she slams the door behind her.
2
In his dream, Alex Davis is trying to catch his dog, Bart, so he can take a tennis ball off him. Bart’s love of eating tennis balls has ended in three hefty vet bills already, and in this dream, he’s eaten half a dozen of the damned things and nobody can catch him. Alex knows it’s just a dream, not because of the tennis balls, but because his mother-in- law Allie is watching from a recliner. She’s sipping a cocktail and laughing with her granddaughter Ally. Alex and Ben’s daughter, was born two months after his mother-in-law’s death, which is how he knows it must be a dream.
Just as Alex is about to snag Bart’s collar, the snuffling sounds of their younger daughter about to cry catch his attention. The dream slips away, and he opens his eyes when there’s a second whimper from the baby monitor. Swinging his legs out of bed he pulls his tee-shirt on over his blue pajama pants and crosses the hall to her room. The nine-month-old is sitting in the corner of her crib, pulling on the feet of her onesie with one hand and sucking the fingers of the other hand. By the look of things, she’s getting ready to voice her displeasure at having no bottle yet but gives him a wide, drool filled smile revealing four teeth. This room used to belong to Ben’s grandmother, Polly, but at ninety-seven she’s conceded defeat to the staircase and taken over the downstairs guestroom.
“Hey Lulu bug.” He scoops the little girl into his arms, smiling at the way she snuggles into his neck, kicking against his stomach.
Alex sings Teddy Bear’s Picnic in her ear as they go downstairs, stomach growling when the smell of bacon cooking and the sound of barking and giggles greets them from the kitchen. When he opens the door, Bart, thankfully with no tennis balls in sight, bounces over, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Ben, dressed in old jeans and a faded shirt, stands at the stove, tongs in one hand, coffee mug in the other. His blonde hair points in every direction and there’s a smear of something – butter? - on his face. Bacon and eggs are about Ben’s limit in the kitchen and even then, it's rare for him to come out unscathed. Ally, who will be four next month, looks up from her coloring.
“Daddy,” she squeals with a wide smile, bright green eyes shining. She’s wearing Pooh Bear pajamas and, Alex is startled to see, has a diaper on her head. He bends down to kiss her cheek, cradling Lucy’s head with his hand. “I have a diapy hat.”
“Morning monster, so I see.”
He retrieves Lucy’s bottle from the warmer, settles her into the crook of his elbow and grins when small hands clasp the bottle and small feet stick straight up in the air. She settles into the serious business of having her bottle while looking at him with wide, unblinking, hazel eyes. Holding her away from the stove, he winds his free arm around Ben’s waist.
“Morning.” He nuzzles Ben’s neck; he smells warm and buttery. “Why is our daughter wearing a diapy hat?”
“Why do you insist on wearing those ridiculous pajamas? Such are the mysteries of the universe, baby.”
Alex rolls his eyes and sits down, shifting Lucy to a more comfortable position.
“Idiot.”
“Idiot who loves you,” Ben replies. He takes a small plate of scrambled egg to Ally. “And, I might add, who is cooking you breakfast Okay, munchkin, no diapy hats at the table please. Coloring on the island, time for eggs.”
“Daddy’s not a baby,” Ally says as she puts her coloring on the island, laying the diapy hat next to it with care, “Daddy’s a growed-up. Lulu bug is a baby.”
“Shows what you know.” Ben hands Alex a cup of coffee and sets a plate of bacon and eggs on the table in front of him. “Lulu bug isn’t a baby, she’s a bug. Didn’t you know that?”
Ally, still standing on her chair, puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head.
“Idiot.” Her tone is an exact echo of the one Alex used a minute earlier. Alex chokes on his coffee and looks up to see Ben, mouth hanging open, his plate of breakfast forgotten in his hand.
“Ally, don’t call Papa an idiot,” Alex tries not to laugh, “that’s rude.”
“You did.” Ally sits, picks up her small fork and shovels a forkful of egg into her mouth, eyes still on her taller father, waiting for an explanation.
“Well it’s different for grownups,” he says.
“Why?”
Alex groans. He hasn’t had enough coffee for why.
“Because sometimes it’s a way of being cute, like when I call Daddy baby, or you, munchkin,” Ben intervenes. Alex watches her mull this over; she’s an intelligent child who likes words and is often distracted by them. Polly is convinced it means she’ll be an award-winning writer someday, but Alex will just be grateful if it saves them from an hour of hearing the word why on repeat.
“Or Lucy, Lulu bug,” he adds.
“Oh, it’s a nicker name?”
“Nickname,” Alex corrects. “Yes, sort of, but it’s not a good nickname for little girls to use, okay? Especially not to their Papa.”
The little girl considers this for a moment, then shrugs, nudges her plate toward Ben’s, and climbs in his lap.
“Sorry, Papa,” she says, and leans her head back against his chest. Ben picks up some scrambled egg with his fork and lifts it to her mouth.
For a couple of moments, they eat breakfast in silence. As Alex gets up to refill Ally’s sippy cup with milk, the door swings open and Polly comes in. She’s dressed in a long, denim skirt and a neon pink sweater that matches her chin length neon pink hair. Retiring from writing three years earlier has dimmed some of her spark, but she still fills the room with warmth and energy.
“Olly,” Ally cries.
Refusing to be called Grandma, Polly became Olly when Ally was smaller and couldn’t quite pronounce her name. Ally bounces on her father’s lap and knocks his fork, and the bacon it had just pierced, flying. Ben sighs when Bart pounces on it and Alex has to fight another wave of laughter as he shifts Lucy to his shoulder and holds his free arm out, so Ally can get on his lap allowing Ben to serve Polly some breakfast and himself some more bacon.
“Good morning small creatures,” Polly kisses first Ally, then Lucy. She accepts her coffee and sits down with a yawn. “What have we all been doing this morning?”
“I was coloring, and I made a diapy hat, and Daddy called Papa idiot, but I can’t call him that ‘cause I not a growed up.”
Polly looks at Alex, eyebrows raised.
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell,” he says and rubs his cheek on Ally’s head.
Ben swallows the piece of bacon he's chewing and drops a kiss on Polly’s head as he serves her a dish of scrambled eggs and takes Lucy. Sits back down and puts a toast crust in her pudgy hand to suck on. Alex offers Ally some of his scrambled egg, but she shakes her head; he looks at her plate at the end of the table, she’s eaten most of it, so he doesn’t insist.
“Business as usual then,” Polly says with a grin.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Why can’t I wear my jeans?” Ally kicks her feet against the legs of her chair. The Pooh Bear pajamas have been replaced by a pink party dress tied with a bow at the back.
“Because it’s a birthday party for Charlotte.” Alex grits his teeth and parts her hair to form pigtails. He hates doing her hair, Ben is so much better at it.
“Yeah but why can’t I wear my jeans?”
“Because it’s nice to dress up for birthday parties.”
He winds a matching pink ribbon around the pig tail and moves to the other side.
“Why?”
“Because everyone wants to look pretty.”
“Why?”
Alex sighs and reaches for the other ribbon.
“Because it’s a special occasion.”
“Why?”
Alex closes his eyes and crouches down in front of her. How does Ben always know when Ally is going to be in the mood to question everything and so chooses to change Lucy?
“Because it’s her birthday and you’re going there to celebrate it with her and have fun.”
“So why can’t I wear my jeans? I can’t have fun in a stupid dress.”
Knowing better than to assume he has any chance of winning the argument, Alex tries distraction as a tactic. He puts the hairbrush on Ally’s dresser and turns to look at her.
“Stand up and twirl, monster.”
Ally rolls her eyes and looks so much like Ben it’s eerie. The skirt of the dress billows out to reveal chubby knees, one sporting an Olaf band-aid. Alex crouches and adjusts the white socks and checks her laces are secure. Stands and holds his hand out.
“Let’s go show Papa what a beautiful monster you are.”
Giggling she encloses his hand in both of hers and pulls him to the staircase.
Scattered Shells #5
1
Alex clamps a slice of toast between his teeth and lifts Lucy out of her highchair. He settles her on his hip and snatches the toast out of her reach before it ends up smeared down both of them.
“Ally, grab your bag, we’re going to be late,” he says and slings the diaper bag over his shoulder.
“Have to say bye to Papa,” Ally calls over her shoulder as she darts across the court yard, back pack bouncing on the cobblestones behind her. Alex lets out a frustrated sigh and hurries after her.
Ben appears in the doorway and smiles when Ally throws herself on him. The glasses he’s finally accepted he needs for reading and watching television are perched on his head, and Alex can’t help smiling at the sight.
“I won’t forget to check on the cake,” Ben says. He lifts Ally up and kisses her cheek.
“And get the presents.”
“And get the presents.” Grinning at Alex, he leans forward to kiss Lucy. “And the turkey. Papa has everything under control.”
“Monster we have to go,” Alex says, capturing a kiss of his own as he shifts Lucy to a more comfortable position and tries to keep the toast away from Ben’s cream shirt. It’s tucked into navy linen trousers and for the first time in what feels too long, Alex lingers over the kiss. Wants to linger over the kiss. Ben pulls away, eyes dancing as he licks his lips.
“Mmmmm, peanut butter. My favorite.” He sets Ally back on the ground.
Alex brushes his mouth over Ben’s again, then presses his lips close to his ear.
“Who knows what you might taste later?”
Ben raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
A twinge of guilt pulls at Alex. It’s been two months since the court case. His mother’s appeal was denied, and his parents are both serving their sentences. Apart from the occasional bad dream and a reluctance to spend too much time apart from them, Ally appears to be bouncing back. Her hair is almost brushing her collar and the dreaded Mary Janes have been donated to the local thrift store. Alex sees a therapist once - sometimes twice - a week and has regained most of the weight he lost, but he’s been reluctant to make love. Ben hasn’t pushed it, brushing it off as the downside to parenting but Alex can’t help worrying how long his patience will last. He’s about to kiss Ben again when Ally tugs his hand.
“Daddy, no more smushy stuff. You said we’re going to be late.”
“Okay, okay I’m coming.” He smiles at Ben. “I love you.”
“Love you back. Love you munchkin.”
“Love you back papa. Come on, daddy. We have to go.”
Alex shoves the last of the toast in his mouth and follows her out.
✽ ✽ ✽
Alex stares at his hands and waits for Ellen Jones to look up from her notes. A woman in her mid-forties with strands of silver in her long red hair, she has an unerring eye for spotting whatever is bothering Alex on any given day. Not unlike Ben, he thinks and snorts.
Jones looks up at the sound and smiles.
“Care to share?” she says.
Alex shakes his head and looks back at his hands. She steps out from behind her desk, smooths her skirt beneath her, and sits down.
“So, how’s the week been?”
“Not bad,” Alex admits. “It’s Lucy’s first birthday on Saturday, so Ally’s busy organizing us for that.”
“Thanksgiving baby. That’s a pretty good reason to celebrate.”
Alex nods. He knows he has a lot to be thankful for.
“Ally still doing okay? Any nightmares this week?”
“No, none in about two weeks now and she had a play date at her friend’s house over the weekend. She didn’t stay over but she spent the day.”
Jones looks pleased.
“That’s great news, it certainly sounds like she’s doing well. What did you and Ben do while she was out?”
He can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks; he knows what she’s really asking. The first time the subject of their sex life had come up, he had been so embarrassed he’d had to stand at the window with his back to her to be able to answer. It made him angry, as if the whole nightmare with his mother had sent him hurtling back into who he had been before meeting Ben. Jones had listened to this outburst without comment, then asked him to tell her what Ben had done to make things different.
“He was just … Ben,” Alex had said, voice clogged with emotion.
“And is he still just Ben?” she’d asked, and the question had been so jarring in its simplicity that he’d been shocked out of his embarrassment. Yes, he’d whispered, he was still just Ben. His Ben.
“Alex?” her head is tilted to the side and the amusement in her eyes is mirrored in her tone.
“Sorry, just thinking. We had Lucy with us and went out for lunch, then went home and watched a movie while she slept.” He looks up at her from under the hair flopped over his eyes. “Made out a bit on the sofa.” Small embarrassed laugh. “Like teenagers.”
“Hey, that’s what nap time is for. Go any further than making out?’
Alex shakes his head.
“No. I want to though, it’s just …” his voice trails off as he tries to find the words to explain what he’s feeling. Jones waits, silent. “Ben’s really ... physical. Not shy about anything, really open. Everything I’m not.” He sighs, knows how it must sound. “And he’s always been really patient with me. Never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Always on my side.”
“Sounds like a saint.” Jones face is unreadable but the laughter that bubbles up from his chest feels good. Better, it feels real.
“He’s not a saint,” he finally manages to say. “He’ll be forty in the new year but some days it’s like he’s twelve.” It occurs to him she might not understand. “Not in a bad way, or anything, he’s just …cocky I guess.”
“I get the feeling you love him very much.”
Alex nods.
“I do. He’s kind and compassionate and smart. Funny. He works hard and he’s a great Dad.” Alex takes a deep breath. “I sound like a teenager with a crush, but he’s everything I always thought I wouldn’t have.”
“Before you met Ben, did you have other lovers?”
He tells her the same thing he remembers telling Ben. A few one-night stands, a couple of short lived flings. The first time he had fallen in love, the only time, had been with Ben.
“And were you ever reluctant to have sex before?”
Alex runs both hands through his hair, holds it back off his face fighting the urge to squirm under her gaze.
“No. I mean I wasn’t a virgin when we met but I hadn’t had that much experience and I’ve always been,” he huffs a laugh as he remembers asking Ben if he was too vanilla, “shy I guess. But we have a good sex life. At least we always did before.”
“So, what’s changed? Did something happen when you were a child?”
It’s not lost on Alex that of the many things he has to be grateful for, one of them is that for all the awful things inflicted upon him by his parents, sexual assault was not one of them.
“No, nothing like that.” The truth he realizes is much simpler. And somehow much harder to face. “I’m scared I won’t be able to … you know…” he looks up and catches the amusement in Jones’s eyes, “I know, I know I’m a nurse I should be able to talk about this stuff. Ben’s always teasing me about it. I’m scared I’ll feel guilty. And I don’t want to ever feel guilty about loving Ben. About making love to him. But …”
“But?”
“But I miss it. I miss touching him and being touched. I want that back in our life. You know, before she showed back up, a lot of the time we were too tired to have sex anyway.”
“Having small children will do that to you.”
He nods in agreement.
“Yeah, but this is different. This is … I don’t know.” Frustrated he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Alex,” Jones says, “it’s normal to experience a loss of libido after something like this. Apart from what happened with your girls, which is a major stress factor of its own, you’re dealing with a lifetime of trauma for the first time, you need to give yourself some credit. And I know you know what I’m going to tell you to do.”
“Talk to him.”
Jones laughs, it’s a light, airy sound.
“Go to the top of the class. Yes, you have to talk to him.”
Haunted Seas #5.5
WEDNESDAY
Something smashes into the back of Alex’s legs knocking him off balance. He steadies himself against the wall and looks down to find his younger daughter, Lucy, grinning up at him from the depths of a fuzzy blue costume.
“Stitch, Daddy, I Stitch.” She holds her arms out and he hefts her up against his shoulder, dodging the sticky ice-cream mouth she’s aiming at him to be kissed. Instead, he pretends to bite her neck through the furry suit making her squirm and giggle. “Had ice-c’eam.”
“I can see that.” He turns to greet Ben and Ally coming down the hallway. Ally is still wearing the Wonder Woman t-shirt and jeans she wore to school this morning. He raises an eyebrow in query. “Where’s your costume monster?”
“Papa said it has to stay in the car, so I don’t get it dirty.” She shoots a baleful look at Ben as she speaks. “It’s not fair, Lulu got to wear hers.”
Alex bites his cheek to keep from laughing at her indignance and raises an eyebrow as he leans over her to kiss Ben. They ignore her protest to not be smushy.
“Please tell me you’re done for the day.” Ben takes Lucy back. Alex notices his unknotted tie is askew and there’s a smear of what looks like strawberry ice-cream on his shirt. There are gray smudges beneath his green eyes, and his normally well combed blond hair resembles a bird nest. “She’s on form today.”
In his arms, Lucy wriggles to get free. “Down. Down, Papa.”
As soon as she hits the ground, she darts toward the reception area before Ben can stop her. Alex grins when Ann intercepts the toddler and lifts her to sit on the edge of her desk, offering her a lollipop from the jar on her desk. Ally turns hopeful eyes to him. He nods and she runs to the receptionist.
“Court go okay?” He bumps his elbow against Ben’s.
“Court was a breeze compared to our daughter. I think we’re going to have to buy the Stitch costume if the fit she threw when I tried to take it off her at the store is anything to go by.” He scrubs his hand up over his face. “Maybe she’s been possessed.”
“Idiot.” Alex’s mouth twitches. “Let me just put these away and we can go.”
When he returns, Ben is at the reception desk chatting with Ann and Alex is unsurprised to see he too has a lollipop. Lucy is still sitting on the desk, but Ally has wandered into the waiting area where she’s found the pile of children’s books they keep there. When he tries to pick Lucy up, she protests and kicks at him until finally he lets her slither down to scamper over to her sister and snatch at her book.
“Papa! Make her stop!” Ally holds the toddler at bay with one hand and her book in the air with the other.
“Told you. Possessed.” Ben strides over, picks up a now shrieking Lucy and starts toward the door. “Thanks for the lollipop, Ann.”
“Terrible twos are such fun.” Ann, a grandmother of four already, shakes her head with a laugh. “I do not miss that. When my grandbabies start, I send them on home.”
“Don’t blame you.” Alex turns to Ally and holds out his hand. “Come on monster, time to go. Say bye to Ann.”
Ally returns the books to the shelf and skips over to them. She takes Alex’s hand, leaning against his leg as she says goodbye.
“You make sure Daddy brings you in, so I can see you dressed as Wonder Woman, okay sweetie?”
As soon as he opens the clinic’s door, they’re met with the sound of angry squeals and sobs. From where they stand, Alex can see Ben dodging angry blows and Lucy arching her back as she fights having the car set harness attached.
“No! No! No! No! Bad Papa! No! No!”
“When Papa said she had to take Stitch off, she bit him.” Ally’s voice is solemn. “Papa said a bad word.”
No sooner are the words out of her mouth than Lucy whips around and sinks her teeth into Ben’s shoulder making him yelp yet another bad word. Ally nods in confirmation when Alex glances at her and they hurry over to the car. Alex nudges Ben out of the way.
“Help Ally with her seatbelt.”
Lucy is in full temper tantrum now and Alex is surprised they haven’t attracted more attention. He places a firm hand on her chest to hold her still and yanks the harness over her head. Clicks it into place and draws back and holds his index finger up.
New Zealand author, Angelique Jurd, writes contemporary gay (MM) romance. Her stories are emotional, sexy, and loving with heart warming endings. After getting a degree in languages, travelling the world, raising a family, and working as a business journalist, she went back to school and studied English Literature and Media Studies.In 2018, she published her first novel Jesse’s Smile with Small Black Cat Media. Since then, she’s continued to write contemporary gay (MM) romance and her academic research in fan studies and the queerification of popular fiction characters by fans.
EMAIL: angelique@angeliquejurd.com
Stormy Seas #4
Scattered Shells #5
Haunted Seas #5.5
Series
Friday, November 4, 2022
💜📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation(National Family Caregiver Month Edition)🎥📘💜: The Descendants by Kaui Hart Hemmings
Now a major motion picture starring George Clooney and directed by Alexander Payne.
Fortunes have changed for the King family, descendants of Hawaiian royalty and one of the state’s largest landowners. Matthew King’s daughters—Scottie, a feisty ten-year-old, and Alex, a seventeen-year-old recovering drug addict—are out of control, and their charismatic, thrill-seeking mother, Joanie, lies in a coma after a boat-racing accident. She will soon be taken off life support. As Matt gathers his wife’s friends and family to say their final goodbyes, a difficult situation is made worse by the sudden discovery that there’s one person who hasn’t been told: the man with whom Joanie had been having an affair. Forced to examine what they owe not only to the living but to the dead, Matt, Scottie, and Alex take to the road to find Joanie’s lover, on a memorable journey that leads to unforeseen humor, growth, and profound revelations.
1
the sun is shining, mynah birds are chattering, palm trees are swaying, so what. I’m in the hospital and I’m healthy. My heart is beating as it should. My brain is firing off messages that are loud and clear. My wife is on the upright hospital bed, positioned the way people sleep on airplanes, her body stiff, head cocked to the side. Her hands are on her lap.
“Can’t we lay her flat?” I ask.
“Wait,” my daughter Scottie says. She takes a picture of her mother, a Polaroid. She fans herself with the photo, and I press the button on the side of the bed to lower my wife’s upper body. I release the button when she is almost flat on her back.
Joanie has been in a coma for twenty-three days, and in the next few days I’ll have to make some decisions based on our doctor’s final verdict. Actually, I’ll just have to find out what the doctor has to say about Joanie’s condition. I don’t have any decisions to make, since Joanie has a living will. She, as always, makes her own decisions.
Today is Monday. Dr. Johnston said we’ll talk on Tuesday, and this appointment is making me nervous, as though it’s a romantic date. I don’t know how to act, what to say, what to wear. I rehearse answers and reactions, but I’ve nailed only the lines that respond to favorable scenarios. I haven’t rehearsed Plan B.
“There,” Scottie says. Her real name is Scottie. Joanie thought it would be cool to name her after Joanie’s father, Scott. I have to disagree.
I look at the photo, which looks like those joke snapshots everyone takes of someone sleeping. I don’t know why we think they’re so funny. There’s a lot that can be done to you while you’re sleeping. This seems to be the message. Look how vulnerable you are, the things you aren’t aware of. Yet in this picture you know she isn’t just sleeping. Joanie has an IV and something called an endotracheal tube running out of her mouth to a ventilator that helps her breathe. She is fed through a tube and is administered enough medication to sustain a Fijian village. Scottie is documenting our life for her social studies class. Here’s Joanie at Queen’s Hospital, her fourth week in a coma, a coma that has scored a 10 on the Glasgow scale and a III on the Rancho Los Amigos scale. She was in a race and was launched from an offshore powerboat going eighty miles an hour, but I think she will be okay.
“She reacts nonpurposefully to stimuli in a nonspecific manner, but occasionally, her responses are specific though inconsistent.” This is what I’ve been told by her neurologist, a young woman with a slight tremor in her left eye and a fast way of talking that makes it hard to ask questions. “Her reflexes are limited and often the same, regardless of stimuli presented,” she says. None of this sounds good to me, but I’m assured Joanie’s still holding on. I feel she’ll be okay and one day able to function normally. I’m generally right about things.
“What was she racing for?” the neurologist asked.
The question confused me. “To win, I guess. To get to the end first.”
“shut this off,” I tell Scottie. She finishes pasting the picture into her book then turns off the television with the remote.
“No, I mean this.” I point to the stuff in the window—the sun and trees, the birds on the grass hopping from crumb to crumb thrown by tourists and crazy ladies. “Turn this off. It’s horrible.” The tropics make it difficult to mope. I bet in big cities you can walk down the street scowling and no one will ask you what’s wrong or encourage you to smile, but everyone here has the attitude that we’re lucky to live in Hawaii; paradise reigns supreme. I think paradise can go fuck itself.
“Disgusting,” Scottie says. She slides the stiff curtain across the window, shutting all of it out.
I hope she can’t tell that I’m appraising her and that I’m completely worried by what I see. She’s excitable and strange. She’s ten. What do people do during the day when they’re ten? She runs her fingers along the window and mumbles, “This could give me bird flu,” and then she forms a circle around her mouth with her hand and makes trumpet noises. She’s nuts. Who knows what’s going on in that head of hers, and speaking of her head, she most definitely could use a haircut or a brushing. There are small tumbleweeds of hair resting on the top of her head. Where does she get haircuts? I wonder. Has she ever had one before? She scratches her scalp, then looks at her nails. She wears a shirt that says i’m not that kind of girl. but i can be! I’m grateful that she isn’t too pretty, but I realize this could change.
I look at my watch. Joanie gave it to me.
“The hands glow and the face is mother-of-pearl,” she said.
“How much did it cost?” I asked.
“How did I know that would be the very first thing you said about it?”
I could see she was hurt, that she put a lot of work into selecting the gift. She loves giving gifts, paying attention to people so she can give them a gift that says she took the time to know and listen to them. At least it seems like that’s what she does. I shouldn’t have asked about the price. She just wanted to show that she knew me.
“What time is it?” Scottie asks.
“Ten-thirty.”
“It’s still early.”
“I know,” I say. I don’t know what to do. We’re here not only because we’re visiting and hoping Joanie has made some progress during the night, reacting to light and sound and painful jabs, but also because we have nowhere else to go. Scottie’s in school all day and then Esther picks her up, but this week I felt she should spend more time here and with me, so I took her out of school.
“What do you want to do now?” I ask.
She opens her scrapbook, a project that seems to occupy all of her time. “I don’t know. Eat.”
“What would you usually do now?”
“Be in school.”
“What if it were Saturday? What would you do then?”
“Beach.”
I try to think of the last time she was completely in my care and what we did together. I think it was when she was around one, one and a half. Joanie had to fly to Maui for a shoot and couldn’t find a babysitter, and her parents couldn’t do it, for some reason. I was in the middle of a trial and stayed home but absolutely had to get some work done, so I put Scottie in the bathtub with a bar of soap. I watched to see what happened. She splashed and tried to drink the bathwater, and then she found the soap and reached to grab it. It eluded her grasp and she tried again, a look of wonder on her small face, and I slipped out into the hall, where I had set up a workstation and a baby monitor. I could hear her laughing, so I knew she wasn’t drowning. I wonder if this would still work: putting her in a tub with a slippery bar of Irish Spring.
“We can go to the beach,” I say. “Would Mom take you to the club?”
“Well, duh. Where else would we go?”
“Then it’s a plan. After you talk and we see a nurse, we’ll check in at home, then go.”
Scottie takes a picture out of her album, crushes it in her hand, and throws it away. I wonder what the picture was, if it was the one of her mother on the bed, probably not the best family relic. “I wish,” Scottie says. “What do I wish?”
It’s one of our games. Every now and then she names a place she wishes we were besides this place, this time in our lives.
“I wish we were at the dentist,” she decides.
“Me, too. I wish we were getting our mouths x-rayed.”
“And Mom was getting her teeth whitened,” she says.
I really do wish we were at Dr. Branch’s office, the three of us getting high on laughing gas and feeling our numb lips. A root canal would be a blast compared to this. Or any medical procedure, really. Actually, I wish I could be home working. I have to make a decision on who should own the land that has been in my family since the 1840s. This sale will eliminate all of my family’s land holdings, and I desperately need to study up on the facts before the meeting I have with my cousins six days from now. That’s our deadline. Two o’clock at Cousin Six’s house six days from today. We’ll approve a buyer. It’s irresponsible of me to have put off thinking about this deal for so long, but I guess this is what our family has done for a while now. We’ve turned our backs to our legacy, waiting for someone else to come along and assume both our fortune and our debts.
I’m afraid Esther may have to take Scottie to the beach, and I’m about to tell her, but then I don’t because I feel ashamed. My wife is in the hospital, my daughter needs her parents, and I need to work. Once again I’m putting her in the tub.
I see Scottie staring at her mother. She has her back against the wall, and she’s fumbling with the hem of her shirt.
“Scottie,” I say. “If you’re not going to say anything, then we may as well leave.”
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to tell your mother what’s going on in school?”
“She never cares about what’s going on in school.”
“What about your extracurricular activities? Your schedule’s fuller than the president’s. Your scrapbook, show her that. Or what did you make in glassblowing the other day?”
“A bong,” she says.
I look at her closely before responding. She doesn’t appear to have said anything remarkable. I never know if she knows what she’s talking about. “Interesting,” I say. “What is a bong?”
She shrugs. “Some high school guy taught me how to make it. He said it would go well with chips and salsa and any other food I could think of. It’s some kind of platter.”
“Do you still have this . . . bong?”
“Sort of,” she says. “But Mr. Larson told me to make it into a vase. I could put flowers in it and give it to her.” She points at her mother.
“That’s a great idea!”
She eyes me skeptically. “You don’t have to get all Girl Scout about it.”
“Sorry,” I say.
I lean back in my chair and look at all the holes in the ceiling. I don’t know why I’m not worried, but I’m just not. I know Joanie will be okay because she always makes it out okay. She will wake up and Scottie will have a mother and we can talk about our marriage and I can put my suspicions aside. I’ll sell the property and buy Joanie a boat, something that will shock her and make her throw her head back and laugh.
“Last time you were the one in the bed,” Scottie says.
“Yup.”
“Last time you lied to me.”
“I know, Scottie. Forgive me.”
She’s referring to my stint in the hospital. I had a minor motorcycling accident. I crashed at the track, soaring over the handlebars into a pile of red dirt. At home, after the wreck, I told Joanie and Scottie what had happened but insisted I was okay and that I wasn’t going to the hospital. Scottie issued me these little tests to demonstrate my unreliability. Joanie participated. They played bad cop, worse cop.
“How many fingers?” Scottie asked, holding up what I thought was a pinky and a thumb.
“Balls,” I said. I didn’t want to be tested this way.
“Answer her,” Joanie said.
“Two?”
Matt King, a husband and father of two girls, must re-examine his past and navigate his future when his wife is in a boating accident off Waikiki. He awkwardly attempts to repair his relationship with his daughters - 10 year-old precocious Scottie and rebellious 17 year-old Alexandra - while wrestling with a decision to sell his family's land.
Release Date: Novembe 10, 2011
Release Time: 115 minutes
Director: Alexander Payne
Cast:
George Clooney as Matthew "Matt" King
Shailene Woodley as Alexandra "Alex" King
Amara Miller as Scottie King
Nick Krause as Sid
Beau Bridges as Hugh King
Judy Greer as Julie Speer
Matthew Lillard as Brian Speer
Robert Forster as Scott Thorson
Patricia Hastie as Elizabeth King
Mary Birdsong as Kai Mitchell
Rob Huebel as Mark Mitchell
Milt Kogan as Dr. Johnston
Laird Hamilton as Troy
Michael Ontkean as Cousin Milo
Matt Corboy as Kaiba
Awards:
2011 Academy Awards
Best Picture - Jim Burke, Alexander Payne, Jim Taylor - Nominated
Best Director - Alexander Payne - Nominated
Best Actor - George Clooney - Nominated
Best Adapted Screenplay - Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, Jim Rash - Won
Best Film Editing - Kevin Tent - Nominated
BAFTA's
Best Film - Jim Burke, Alexander Payne, Jim Taylor - Nominated
Best Actor - George Clooney - Nominated
Best Adapted Screenplay -Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, Jim Rash - Nominated
Golden Globes
Best Picture – Drama - Won
Best Director - Alexander Payne - Nominated
Best Actor – Drama - George Clooney - Won
Best Supporting Actress - Shailene Woodley - Nominated
Best Screenplay - Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, Jim Rash - Nominated
Trailer
Clips
Kaui Hart Hemmings has degrees from Colorado College, Sarah Lawrence, and she was a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University. Her first novel, a New York Times bestseller, THE DESCENDANTS, has been published in twenty-two other countries and is now an Oscar-winning film directed by Alexander Payne and starring George Clooney. She has also published a story collection, HOUSE OF THIEVES. Her novel, The POSSIBILITIES, is an Oprah and People magazine "must read" and has been optioned by Jason Reitman. Her debut YA novel, JUNIORS, has been published by Penguin Putnam. Her most recent novel is HOW TO PARTY WITH AN INFANT. She lives in Hawaii.
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