okay….so, yes, another post. I realize with all of these time zones, it may seem odd. Day 16 is gone. Day 17 is just beginning and here is the first bit. There’s more to come for day 17, although probably not for about another 8 hours. đ
I’m behind by a bit. Tomorrow is make up day. If you have any suggestions, send them on. I have mucho nothing and the seat of my pants is getting worn.
zombies, ghosts, aliens…….what would they do?
current word count: 25,031
Strangely, Jared, Tito and Kaden seemed at home in Philoâs almost beach house. Phoebe didnât know what it was. They sat on Philoâs deck and made music and seemed happy like they were some garage band discovering that they suddenly had the ability to really make music.
She tried to be unobtrusive so that Kaden wouldnât realize that she was eavesdropping on their music, but she found she liked it. She didnât know what it was. Sometimes there was a little funk, a little heavy metal, a little throb that she didnât know exactly how to describe. It was when Kaden would sing and she felt his voice deep inside the roots of her being, presuming those roots were well in the south of her torso.
She didnât feel guilty for not opening the shop. It wasnât like she usually had a swarm of customers. There were a few who came everyday, hoping that they could convince her that day to perform a love spell on the one they wanted or a spell to let them win the lottery. She couldnât.
She made lunch for the band. Admittedly, it was lunch for Kaden, but she wouldnât admit that. A fancy fried caper and fontina cheese pasta with a fresh tossed salad and homemade split pea soup with tarragon and carrots with focaccia lightly sprinkled with basil olive oil. No, she wasnât trying much.
The band sat down and devoured her lunch. The nodded as they ate. Mentioned that it was the best fucking thing they had eaten in a long time. But Phoebe waited for Kadenâs voice.
He was a bit slower in how he ate as if determined by his southern roots. He looked up at her and nodded. âVery nice, chere. Almost tastes like home.â
That she didnât understand. None of those dishes were southern, well, unless you counted coastal Virginia as southern. And, yes, well, it was, but it was not by any means New Orleans.
âIâm glad yâall liked it,â she said and the left to hide in the kitchen. What a scaredy cat!
Chloe appeared then, yawning, at one in the afternoon.
âIs there coffee?â she asked.
âWhat happened to you?â Phoebe asked.
âI just woke up,â Chloe said.
Phoebe bit her lip. Thatâs what she did with Chloe. There was no use getting upset. Chloe lived by her own schedule.
âI donât remember if you ever told me if you got a job,â Phoebe said and then immediately regretted it because she didnât hear anything nonchalant in her voice and she knew immediately how Chloe would react.
âSubtle, Phoebs. Do I have to go through the Spanish Inquisition via you to get a damn cup of coffee?â Chloe asked.
Phoebe shook her head and then pressed a filter into the coffee basket, added the coffee, water, and then jabbed the on button.
âDo you ever say âthanks?â Or maybe consider making the coffee yourself?â the deep southern accented voice asked.
Phoebe whipped her head around and saw Kaden leaning against the counter staring at Chloe. She almost shook her head at him, but he just raised an eyebrow.
Chloe rolled her eyes. âWhatever, thanks, Phoebe. Does that make it all better?â
Chloe stared at her carefully manicured nails and then defiantly at Kaden. âWhat do you care anyway?â
Phoebe glanced at Kaden and noticed that his eyes widened. âWhy wouldnât I? Your sisterâs a nice woman and I just heard you treat her like crap.â
âOh, whatever. Youâre a manwhore. I think your opinion matters as much as mouse dung.â
âIâm not sure what my sexual predilection means as far as treating people well. And, I can call you out on that. Phoebe is not your servant. Iâm pretty certain you can make your own coffee.â
Phoebe stared at the coffee maker, paying extra attention to the burps and sizzles and the sound of the liquid draining down into the carafe. Her eyes stung. No one really ever noticed how her sisters treated her. Not until now. She didnât feel good. It hurt. It hurt that Kaden had noticed and she couldnât admit why.
She didnât turn around when she heard her sister make a snide comment under her breath or the stamping of her feet as she left the kitchen. She tried not to turn when she felt a pair of large warm hands on both of her biceps.
âOne day youâll tell me all of these secrets, chere. One day youâll share yourself with me,â Kaden said.
He returned to his band and she heard him begin to sing. And she liked it.
day 17.1…more to come
Having a bit of a swoon at Kaden’s southern charm. I can see where a ghost could help with discovering where Kaden’s curse came from … not sure about aliens though, sorry.
I like it, chere…. I really really like it…
lol….love! đ after that you can write the next bit….hehe
Ohh no… You know much better about Kaden and Phoebe… I do not have that good an imagination even to suggest a possible direction to take the story forward… But, please, no zombies…
I think you probably do…I have read it!
Lol… I just had an idea… To help my nameless Lost Spirit find freedom, can I ask help to Phoebe?
Yes. đ