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“What’s got you going this morning?” She asked, with curiosity.
“I’ve got a meeting this afternoon with my literary agent,” I said.
“Well, that’s great. You can ask her to extend your deadline while you take a little vacation time,” she offered as she stuck a toothbrush in her mouth to brush her teeth.
“I really could use some time off.”
“Yep,” she says, letting her lip pop as she spat the toothpaste into the bathroom sink.
Shaking my head with amusement, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”The words refuse to come, so I don’t see how I have much choice. I’ll speak with Lila after the meeting to see if she can get an extension on the deadline from Renee - the editor, and Amanda if necessary.
“What time is your meeting?” Ashlynne asks as I take another sip of my coffee.
“At one-thirty. Why?”
“I’m driving Dad to his doctor’s appointment, then I need to go get some new art supplies for my illustrations. Maybe we could go to lunch after?”
“Lunch sounds good, but why are you driving, Dad? Is something going on I need to know about?”
“No, sis. He called earlier to ask if I could take him because he was feeling fatigued this morning and would feel better if someone else drove. Mom’s still visiting with Aunt Joyce. Won’t be back until late tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay, I’d like to get caught up on our news after, so lunch is definitely happening,” I said.
“Yes,” she cheers as the rings on the shower curtain clink in the distance. “Where do you want to go?”
“Depends on what happens at my meeting.”
“You don’t really think you’re being called in on bad news, do you?”
“I’m not sure what to think. I’ve missed a personal deadline I set for myself, which has me thinking I will not meet the editor’s either,” I stressed.
“I’m sure Lila will not let the publisher pull your writing contract without an excellent reason and a heads up.”
“You’re probably right, but what if this is the heads up?”
“You’re just putting way too much pressure on yourself. It’s bound to have your overactive thoughts kicking into overdrive,” she advises. “And if it’s not, tonight we’ll finish that bottle of Smirnoff that’s been chilling in the fridge. Stuff our faces with junk, and watch something featuring one of the Chris’s we love so much,” she adds.
“Deal.”
Finishing the last of my breakfast, I wheeled into the kitchen. Glancing around the counter, it looked like Ashlynne had already loaded the dishwasher. “Hey Ash, you haven’t started a dish load yet, have you?”
“It’s loaded and ready to start once you’re done with your dishes,” she explains.
“I thought so,” I replied, adding my dishes to the bottom rack. “Alright, I’m starting the load.”
“Yep.”
Starting the machine, I took one last glance around the kitchen before I drove back to the table for my coffee. Knowing it would be at least twenty minutes before I’d get my turn in the shower, I picked up my mug and carefully carried it back to my room.
Crossing my bedroom, it was fairly basic in my eyes. I have a simple double bed -I downsized selling off the king bed I shared with Nick -a bedside table with a lamp, a La-Z-Boy chair in the corner for reading in, or a change of seating. Sometimes I’ll work from my laptop in the recliner when I’m feeling extra achy at night.
Our place was not big by any means, but we never needed much. A bedroom each with a bathroom between us, a kitchen, and a living room that was designed in an open concept that suited my mobility needs just fine. It’s worked out perfectly for Ash and myself.
My bedroom is my little sanctuary away from the world. I’m not one for flashy things or bright colors unless the array of books on my bookshelf counts. I have a few candles here and there. It’s one of my writerly quirks to burn a candle as I write.
My bookshelves are the best feature of the room. When Nick moved out, my dad built my bookshelves low enough that I could reach them comfortably without straining myself.My shelves are almost full now, which means I’ll either have to move some to the living room or have my father build me more. I don’t want my room over crowded though. My dad also custom-built my desk, not only to fit it into the room but fitting it to meet the needs of my chair. My grandfather was an amazing carpenter. He taught his son all his tricks. I can only imagine all the things he will create once Ashlynne or I give him grandchildren. My father works for a power company in town and works way too hard at his job, if you asked me. Some days, I wish he would slow down a little, but he’s a workaholic and will probably work himself to the bone if he’s not careful.
My mother is a homemaker through and through. She raised us girls while taking care of the household. Most kids I knew hated spending anytime with their parents, but Ashlynne and I got along with ours, at least mostly. Yeah, they wanted Ash to pursue a more traditional career, but tattooing suited her. They just needed to give it a chance. My parents are the definition of supportive -even if they didn’t approve, they show us how much they love us every chance they get. When my sister dropped out of pre-med to attend art school, I thought they would have a fit. They may not have been happy with the change, but they gave her all their support.
