Sabrina controlled her mothering instincts by jamming her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. His one-syllable first name guaranteed this would be a first and last date so she couldn’t afford to grab his hand or flick the moth off his collar and give him the wrong idea. The next man she got involved with would have at least three syllables - no exceptions. Besides, for all she knew, he could still turn out to be a pervert. She had met other guys at church that changed as soon as they pulled off the parking lot.
Resentment ate a new hole in her gut as they walked through an alley and he took his sweet time playing with the horseshoe knocker, but she couldn’t blame Tom or the weird house they faced. Jack put her in the mess that caused this ulcer. If he hadn’t offered to take Greg’s and Vince’s daughters when he picked up Charity, she wouldn’t have had a babysitter when Tom asked her to the chili get-together. And if any of them had thought to take all three girls a few years sooner, she might have remembered that she hated chili and wanted nothing more than a quiet night alone, instead of jumping at the first opportunity for adult company.
Maybe she could blame Tom’s parents, too. If they had named him something like Alejandro or Jeremiah, she would be asking about the party and planning how to be friendly instead of brooding over Jack, Greg, and Vince.
A long-haired, wiry man opened the door and let them in without any handshaking, fake hugs, backslapping, or checking her out. None of the other guests jumped up or shouted greetings when they entered. She felt almost invisible, in a good way that meant she didn’t have to please anyone or shake off what she knew they were thinking about her. She didn’t have to remember the names of Jack’s co-workers and fake interest in their boring projects, wonder which of Vince’s teammates had brought which new girl to the party and how she would keep up with them, or start right out counting Greg’s drinks so she would know when to pull him out before he embarrassed both of them. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know what to say. Nobody cared.
Tom went to the kitchenette for chili, freeing her to pull her hands out of her pockets and find seats. In a strange area that wasn’t quite a living room or dining room, rocking chairs circled a table and made the space work as both. Sabrina chose a glider like one she bought when Charity was born and later passed on to her sister, because she missed hers, and because it wasn’t close enough to the fire to dry out her contacts. Also, there was an empty chair beside it for Tom, with wide arms he could set his bowl on.
The fire and the music eased the burning in her stomach. Or maybe rocking and bringing back memories of when the girls were babies did that. Maybe if she got another rocking chair and some plants for her living room, she would feel this relaxed at home. Anything was worth a try if it meant she could keep this feeling of fitting in with her after she left this place.
The best part was that she knew the good feelings did not come from the man because she hardly noticed he was there.
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Comments: 39
"His one-syllable first name guaranteed this would be a first and last date..." That made me want to keep reading... why did his single syllable name cause such instant, I don't know the right word.... dislike?
Madison's iPod? This should be fun.
Thanks, everyone.
Wonderfully written, as usual.
Thanks, Donna and JustMe.
(I'm betting at least one of Sabrina's exes had three syllables but she doesn't think that way - Greg was probably Gregory.)
I laughed at your comment about Mordebahn.
Wilka
Thanks, everyone. I'm trying to find both sides of Sabrina - all characters should have both positive and negative qualities.
what else of you does Sabrina share?
Sue, wouldn't it be nice if we could go there on purpose? I'm sure the carriage house had great vibes always, and the decor was calming, but I think that experience was a magical, had-to-be-there, everything-lined-up-perfectly night. I'll take a picture one day soon. After reading some of the stories, I realized alleys get a bad rap they don't always deserve. I didn't give that proper consideration when I wrote the original story. I thought that by labeling the building carriage house the reader would see it in conjunction with a mansion and a residential area (and maybe suspect that it belonged to Alan's mysterious wealthy family if they read the original - but that wasn't necessary for this exercise).
From a character building standpoint, can you tell me why you think Sabrina thought that was the 'only' way to feel good? Does she impress you as insecure? Never happy with herself? I've tried to show that she likes herself but isn't terribly happy with the way other people see (or don't see) her. Is there something else I could do show this?
This definition by omission was interesting to me: A long-haired, wiry man opened the door and let them in without any handshaking, fake hugs, backslapping, or checking her out. Noting the omissions is so much more effective...and inviting...than simply saying that a long-haired, wiry man opened the door.
If any of you have game ideas, lessons, or exercises you want to post or suggest, I hope you will.
I find it very interesting the range of emotions these various characters experience in 'The Carriage House'.
I also picked up on the iidea that Sabrina's life was navigated relative to what ever man was present during that time frame so it was nice to see her closing thought.
Lovely bookends.
off to read more, I really like your character Sandy, and I am sorry (for me) that it took so long for me to find her~~~~~~