Pt. 7 I stood up, feeling as though I needed to go back to the lake. “Died? Mozer died? How?” “All I know is he apparently died in his sleep. Flint called this morning. He said he normally goes out and shovels for people first thing in the day and then goes back to Mozer’s around noon to have lunch with him. Mozer’s bedroom door was still closed, so Flint peeked in on him. He was in his bed. Gone.” “Oh my gosh!” I sat back down and leaned forward in the chair. “I guess it’s a really good thing the lake house is pretty much ready for Flint then. He’s probably got to get moved out right away.” “That’s what I was thinking,” Mom said. “I don’t know anything about Mozer’s family. I’ve don’t know if he has kids or anything. He’s always been such an onry old cuss, I’ve kept my distance.” “Yeah, he has,” I agreed. “Do you want me to go to the lake with you and talk to him? He might need a place to stay right away, like tonight.” “Thank you Vicki, but you need to get yourself settled in your new place. I’ve…
Month: November 2014
The Flint Riggins Story, Pt. 6
Part 6 “So how was your Christmas, anyway?” Sheri asked. We’d just pulled up in front of the only café open through the winter in our neck of the woods. “It was fine, I guess,” I whined. “I mean, Flint hardly says a word unless I’m out of the room and then I hear him talking to Ryan and Mom.” We got out of the car and headed for the door. The aroma of deep fried everything assaulted us. “We should have stayed home,” Sheri said. “This food will kill us.” Opening the door was kind of like staying home. The tables were occupied with friends and neighbors, all chatty and happy to see us. “The taco salad isn’t so unhealthy, and it’s good. That’s what I usually get here.” We picked a table and shrugged out of our jackets. “I’m dying for coffee,” I looked around for Rita, the owner and only waitress. She was coming up behind me with a fresh pot. “Hi gals,” she smiled as she poured. “Want menus or do you know what you want?” “Guess I’ll have my usual,” I said. “I’ll try one too,” said Sheri. “Joe!” Rita shouted at the cook. “Two…
The Flint Riggins Story, Part 5
Pt. 5 Ryan stoked the fire. Although it was nearly midnight, the three of us were wide awake. “Well,” I sighed, “Christmas is next week. Are you inviting him to town? What’s the plan for that?” I could just imagine the whole extended family gathered around the huge dining table at my parent’s house when the introduction is made. “By the way,” Mom would smile and nod toward Flint. “This is Ryan and Vicki’s half brother by another mother.” I chuckled to myself. “I would like to have a quiet Christmas here,” Mom said. “Just the three of us and Flint. We don’t have to host the whole gang every year and under the circumstances, I think it would be nice for you to get to know him a bit.” I hadn’t meant to grown out loud. “Vicki, you need to change your attitude. It’s not his fault. He was fourteen when his poor excuse for a mother died, your dad abandoned him from the start, his foster homes were nightmares, and he’s been damaged serving his country. The addition will be totally private and give him a safe warm home, something he’s never had and something he certainly deserves.”…
The Flint Riggins Story, Part 4
Pt. 4 Noon Saturday arrived with my brother Ryan at my front door delivering Mom. She’d packed enough for a month which got me wondering if that was exactly her plan. Stay long enough to get me straightened out, living again, fixing myself up! I knew she worried about what I was going to do with the rest of my life, but I didn’t. I simply didn’t care. Peace and semi-solitude suited me well. They removed boots, hats, gloves, scarves, and parkas, burying the coat rack, then joined me in the kitchen for lunch. I’d offered to make my famous butternut squash soup and toasted cheese sandwiches so we could visit before Ryan headed back into town. I also wanted to find out what he’d been doing out at the lake recently without coming to see me. Mom got three coffee cups from the cupboard and filled them up, taking cream out of the refrigerator and setting it on the table. I made the sandwiches and Ryan filled the soup bowls. When everything was ready, we took our seats at the old kitchen table and smiled at each other. It was all so familiar- good memories surrounded us. “This…