How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE

#BlogBattle Week 50 – Prompt: Pure

93 Comments


To join in the fun, click below:

http://rachaelritchey.com/blogbattle/

Genre: Drama / Humor

old-709377_960_720

A Little Malarkey

Grandma Mercy had no patience for wimps nor fools. In her book, Sidney fit both categories. “How’d you ever hook up with a fool like him?”

“Now MeeMa. What’s done is done. No point tempting your blood pressure. He’s a good man.” Celeste paced the hundred-year kitchen, stepping on the creaky spots she still remembered. Freckled and ponytailed, she looked closer to eighteen than thirty. ”I’d like tea. You want tea? Where’s the kettle?”

“Sure. Made double chocolate brownies yesterday. The man’s hands are softer than a baby’s brand new skin.” Grandma reached into a cupboard for the treat tin and another for cups and saucers.

“He’s a scholar. A University Prof. What’s wrong with that?” She watched the gas flame catch beneath the beat up kettle. “Where’s the one I bought you for Christmas?”

“The man’s never done an honest day’s work. What? This one still works. New means better, does it? How long you known him?”

“Off and on—about five years. Why don’t you like him?”

“I said no such thing. So he’s a scholar, but a mighty slow thinker. Asked him did he want vanilla ice cream with his cherry pie at lunch. Both homemade, I told him. I thought we lost him in a black hole somewhere till he blinked and dipped his head, which I took for a nod. I guessed right ‘cause he dug in. I wonder how long does it take to pick out a pair of socks every morning.”

“You’re talking about my husband. My husband.” Celeste, arms crossed, watched Grandma Mercy arrange brownies on a chipped plate. The kettle whistled. She snapped the knob to off and carried the boiled water to the kitchen table. “Brownies smell heavenly. Oops. Forgot the sugar for your tea.”

“You’re my favorite granddaughter, ‘course you’re the only one, but I hope you haven’t made a huge mistake. Who’s gonna look after who? Tell me that.” She stirred the tea with vigor, studying the dark liquid.”

“These aren’t the old days, MeeMa. We aren’t farming or homesteading. I guess we’ll look after each other.” Celeste reached for the older woman’s hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

Gray eyes, still clear and sharp, studied her over the rim of the teacup. “I wonder.”

“What do you mean? You’d met him before and never said one word. Why now?”

“Sure twice for about five minutes and what—a year or two ago? I had no idea you were serious about him. Tell me. Who proposed to who?”

Celeste’s jaw dropped. Tea spilled into her lap and onto the placemat. “Ow-ow-ow. Darn. Darn. That’s hot.” She jumped up unzipping her jeans and hobbled to the bathroom.

Grandma removed the wet placemat and dried the table and chair. “You okay?”

No response, except for gushing water. Then silence. A towel wrapped around her waist, Celeste returned to the kitchen. “No damage done. I’ve hung the jeans on the shower rod to dry. What time is it?”

“Knowing Gramps, he and Sidney won’t be back for hours. I hope he doesn’t bore the boy to distraction. Sit. More tea?”

Celeste took a sip. The tea had cooled. Brows raised she drank again. “Now he’s a boy? Please.” She looked away and smiled in spite of herself.

“So, you did the proposing, eh. I knew it.” Grandma slapped the table. Cups and saucers rattled. Teaspoons twitched and slid.  “There’s no order anymore. I don’t understand it.”

“If you must know, we proposed to each other. This is absolute malarkey. What’s it matter?” Tea finished, she huffed, throwing her hands in the air.

“Book smart is one thing—common sense is another. Who’s wearing the pants in this family? Seems to me he’s a bigger wuss than one of them lap dogs.”

The creak and rattle of the old farm truck announced its imminent arrival. Rounding the corner, it swung into the gravelled yard in a cloud of dust, scattering the few free roaming chickens. And skidded to a stop. “I guess Gramps proved me wrong. Bless him for not overwhelming the poor boy with our country ways.”

One door creaked open and slammed. Then the other. The women gaped. Singing? Not one voice, but two, each carrying his own tune like cats in the night after a date gone wrong. Grandma Mercy winced. “Gramps doesn’t drink, nor has he ever carried a tune even in church, not that he’s carrying one now.”

Gripping the table for support, she pitched forward upsetting her chair. Shuffling on twig-thin legs, she aimed for the door. Celeste close on her heels clutched her towel. Grandma Mercy flung open the door, feet apart, arms crossed. “Well, what have we here?”

The men, arms around each other, continued singing, eyes aglow, silly smiles pasted on stupid faces. Grandma stomped a foot. The screeching stopped, a look of pure mischief on their confused faces. “I thought you were out buying a riding lawnmower.”

Sidney and Gramps wove this way and that. If either lost his balance, they’d both end in the dirt. “Hello, Precious.”

“Don’t you precious me. You’re drunk.”

“Old Sam Waters wanted to sell me a broken down mower, but Sidney talked me out of it. He knows machinery. The boy’s smarter than he lets on.” With a free hand, Gramps patted Sidney’s chest.

“You don’t drink. He put you up to this?” Grandma pointed with her chin.

Faces scrunched, the men gawked at each other. Grandpa shrugged, losing his balance. Sydney tumbled over him. Hooting as if they’d lost their minds, they separated, attempted rising to their feet, but fell again.

The door slammed as if a high wind had come up. Grandma and Celeste were gone.

“Guess Sidney’s not such a wuss after all. He’s still a fool.”

The End

 

© 2015 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles.

Image from Pixabay: No attribution required.
Advertisements

Author: Let's CUT the Crap!

I'm getting a little LONG in the tooth and have things to say about---ouch---AGEing. I believe it's certainly a state of mind but sometimes it's nice to hear that you're NORMAL. I enjoy reading by the truckload. I'm a grandma but I don't feel OLD although I'm not so young anymore. My plan is to stick it out as long as I can on this lovely planet and only will leave it kicking and screaming!

93 thoughts on “#BlogBattle Week 50 – Prompt: Pure

  1. Another good one Tess. Feels a little like Steinbeck.

    Like

  2. “Hooting as if they’d lost their minds” I love it. Well done again, Tess. Mega hugs!

    Like

  3. Looks like Sidney’s going to get the seal of approval after all. Well, after he sobers up a little. 😉

    Like

  4. I liked this story. There are so many wonderful moments. “Grandma slapped the table. Cups and saucers rattled. Teaspoons twitched and slid. ” Love this.

    Like

  5. What a delightful story. I know no one will be good enough for my daughter when she chooses, so it’ll take some clever answers from her intended to change my mind.

    Like

    • 😀 😀 I’m tickled you found this an enjoyable read, Jacqui.
      Exactly what you said about no-one being good enough one way or the other. My son-in-law had a knack for my falling in love with him real quick. Before him, I practically shadowed my daughter. ❤ ❤

      Like

  6. This is adorable. You did a great job of describing the two drunk men. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. 🙂

    Like

  7. Good one, Tess! Great description and another surprise ending. Loved seeing the scene play out! 💛 Elizabeth

    Like

  8. Ha! Don’t Precious me, either! I can see these guys. I can smell them.

    Like

  9. So in Grandma’s eyes the mark of a good man is the ability to get drunk!

    Like

  10. Ha! This was a wonderful story Tess. I think Grandpa might be in for a bit of a talking to, but at least Sidney redeemed himself in Grandma’s eyes, no longer being considered as a wuss! 🙂

    Like

  11. Good ole’ Sydney.. we shall not judge….. etc etc.. great story..

    Like

  12. You painted the characters in full color and they filled the space vibrantly. Maybe the boys will get Grandma Mercy try her first sip of spirits – for medicinal purposes, of course. What a fun story, Tess. The red truck is certainly all smiles.

    Like

  13. This is a great story. You got it just right!!

    Like

  14. Love your characters and the tone! Great story!

    Like

  15. We can’t judge people at fist glance… the story is nice and good!

    Like

  16. Pingback: #BlogBattle 50 “Pure” Entries & Voting – Chronicles of the Twelve Realms

  17. That was a great ;little tale Tess. I had no idea how it would end, but happily suits me.
    xxx Massive Hugs xxx

    Like

  18. It seems you have met my grandmother.

    Like

  19. Love, love this truck photo.
    Womenlivinglifeafter50.com

    Like

  20. “Hello, Precious.”
    “Don’t you precious me.”

    Hahaha – Wonder how many times these words or similar have been said across the world. Wonderful characters, Tess.Jx

    Like

  21. Speaking of ‘who wears the pants anyway?’ …. MeeMa might be just a wee bit overbearing 😉
    Grampa sounds like my kind of person 🙂

    Like

  22. Wonderful story, Tess. I loved the ending where the two come home drunk and best of buddies.

    Like

  23. what does it take to get your name erased out of Meema’s bad books especially if your name ticked in there…Twice

    but that gram got mouth hey i was rolling on the floor laughing at this

    I thought we lost him in a black hole somewhere till he blinked and dipped his head…,

    love it
    ~B

    Like

  24. The characters all but but jumped of the page…I mean computer screen 😀 Great job, Tess.

    Like

  25. You always make me happy I don’t indiscriminately delete when I get behind my reading ❤

    This is another wonderfully crafted stories, wonderful characters with depth and personality that you simply feel as you read. I can picture them and that makes the story jump off the page.

    Like

  26. Another wonderful story of happy times. I liked the squeaky floorboards, they made the story feel grounded. It’s always the little details that can bring a setting to life. 🙂

    Like

  27. Thank you phoenixgrey. I am pleased beyond compare you like my story. ❤ ❤ ❤

    Like

  28. Haha…Grandpa and Sydney had a little too much fun…good for them! Great story Tess, wonderful, took me right there… 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤

    Like

  29. Very nice! I love all the details, such as the creaking floor, the tea, etc. Just brings it to life!

    Like

  30. Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
    Tess Karlinski never disappoints and here is a prime example of her story telling talents. A Little Malarky..

    Like

  31. I think Sidney will do just fine in that family. And no bigee really who proposed to who. 🙂

    Like

  32. Pingback: Free-For-All Friday! | Edwina's Episodes

  33. You can conjure up the most vivid images and people with just a few words. Fabulous, Tess. And have a happy weekend.

    Like

  34. This was worth getting up for this morning. Masterful! Reblogging.

    Like

  35. Reblogged this on Nutsrok and commented:
    Look what Tess wrote! I love it!

    Like

  36. I absolutely enjoyed reading this

    Like

  37. I hope Tess appreciates that she is writing literature here, not blogging. She is an amazing writer! Will visit her regularly.

    Like

  38. Such a great story. Favorite line…about Gramps carrying a tune… “not that he’s carrying one now.” Perfect. ☺

    Like

  39. Great story. You can’t judge a book by it’s cover. 🙂

    Like

  40. “Silly smiles on their stupid faces”–that part made me crack up! 😀

    Like

  41. haha! Yes, he’s still a fool. 🙂 That was too cute. 🙂 MeMaa may eventually come to love him. ❤

    Like

  42. Such an entertaining story, Tess. I love your descriptions. “Tea spilled into her lap and onto the placemat.” So many to choose from! You’re a great writer!

    Like