||[Dec. 27th, 2006|10:53 pm]
Erotic Writers Anonymous
Section the ninth. Real short. I should have just added this to the last one, but it was a change of perspective, so I split it. Oh well.
Suspension of disbelief: werewolves that don't have inbetween morph stages, Up State New York (yes, it does exist, namely, a village is where two roads intersect and houses were build around the bar and gas station that was put at the intersection)
Lookin help with kids, cont.
Pages: About 1.5 at 12p Times New Roman.
Nalani collected herself while Sasha gathered all three in the small bathroom in the hallway.
She hated talking about Charlie, about those last moments with him. Not because they were so painful, but because they weren’t her last. She had to dig his grave that night. The cold had already hit the ground. Her shoulders had screamed at her, but she couldn’t stop. Not until it was deep enough, long enough. She’d measured every inch by each shovelful.
She’d counted on him for so much before she even knew he could speak back. He didn’t talk much, it wasn’t in his nature. But he would lean against her after they’d a rough day or hum quietly while he helped her prepare dinner. She never really got to know the man under the fur. She relied on him for so much, and he’d died for her.
Hot tears tailed down her face. She brushed them away.
The soup was cooling, but it would fine for the kids. She finished spooning it into bowls for them, then pored the rest into larger bowls for Sasha and herself. She tore bread into smallish hunks.
She didn’t set out utensils for the kids. She’d have to get sippy cups, along with car seats, toys, and high chairs, as soon as they got through with dinner. Talk about a long day.
Weren’t they all?
“Nalani? Did you pick up any extra pants?”
“I’ll go get them.”
She gathered the extras that she’d set on the big dining room table that she never used. Sasha opened the door just enough for her to slip the pants in.
A few extra outfits would be good too. Enough for a week for each of them. Another trip to the thrift store seemed the best solution to that. Oh, wait, Mrs. Coleman said she’d bring some left overs in. She’d wait to see what she’d need after that.
She pored tall glasses of orange juice for herself and Sasha. In a clunked together way that seemed to be the theme for dealing with the little guys, she filled out plastic cups about a quarter full of orange juice and put large piles of napkins in strategic locations.
The boys ran out of the bathroom before Sasha got out.
“I’ll put this on the wash,” he said quietly, taking Walt’s wet clothes out the door.
“Okay boys, lets get settled, okay?” She pulled first Arthur, then Walt, and finally Liam into their seats. She tied napkins around all of their necks and smiled as they played with the paper.
She knelt between Liam and Walt and showed them how to pick out solid chunks of meat and vegetables from the soup. She named individual pieces, not knowing how much of it would stick, but knowing that they needed the vocabulary.
Sasha returned and took his place at the table.
“We’re learning to eat with our fingers, for now. You can use the bread to sop up the liquid.”
They all ate for a little while. She caught Sasha staring at her while she was licking her fingers clean. She smiled.
She wiped her fingers on the nearest napkin. For the most part, the kids did okay. They figured out the bread idea from watching them, which made Nalani proud. They needed help with the cups, but that’s why she put the paper napkins on them in the first place.
“We’re going to have to go shopping tonight, before it gets too late. The Super Center should be open for another hour or two.”
“I was wondering how I was going to ask you that. You’ve been real nice starting us out, but I need to buy stuff for them. Clothes, toys, highchairs….”
Nalani waved her hand about. “I can cover stuff for now if you need me to.”
“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “But I can cover it. I did have a paying job before I went werewolf and turned K-9”
“So… what do you think, squeaky toys or trikes?”
Sasha spit orange juice in a fit of laughter.