So much happening today; so much has happened already this morning. For one, I awoke at four AM, and it’s been a tiring morning. Needless to say there’s been a bit of stress in my life of late, and a bit of the stress pulled me out of slumbers. It happened; you just go with it. At least I can take a nap this afternoon and try to catch up on sleep this weekend.
This morning the story inched over the one hundred and fifty-nine thousand word line. Eighty-one words to the one sixty mark–onward and upward. I probably won’t make notice of the milestone until I hit one seventy-five, and then again at two hundred thousand. Looking at where I am, this likely means I’ll go upwards close to three hundred thousand words–does this sound familiar?
We’ll get to that later, but right now . . . Ginger Hair Boy is almost home. He’s been told to just be himself when he’s with Annie and her parents, and they’ll see just how good a person he is. And guess what? Kerry likes that idea.
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
He couldn’t find anything wrong with Ms. Rutherford’s assessment of the what happened in Vienna, or what might happen in the future. She was right: it didn’t matter what her father thought of him, Annie loved him, wanted to married him, wanted to have—well, what came next in that progression, but there wasn’t any need to bring that up now. It’s not something I should worry about now: it’s going to be a while before I spend any time with her family—maybe not until our D Levels—and since we know we marry . . .
They were on Newport Road and clear of the main part of downtown, and it wouldn’t be long before they made the left-hand turn on to the Albany Road. “Almost there.”
“Yes, we are.” Bernice scrutinized him carefully. “You’re handling this separation better than last year.”
“Kinda.” He glanced out the passenger window. “It still hurts, but I remember what Erywin told me about hurt—the good and bad kinds. Right now I have the good kind—”
“Which is what?”
“It’s what you have when you know you’re going to see the person you love again.” He turned away from the window with a huge smile on his face. “Just two weeks, right?”
“Fifteen days.” She smiled back as they turned left off Newport and drove up Albany. “Pick you up in the afternoon and get you dinner.” She nodded towards the front of the car. “Unless you want to eat at home.”
“We’ll eat out—” The car turned off Albany and entered Timbers Square. “Something light, though: Annie and I will have dinner that night after we Adjust.”
“I love a good plan.” The driver pulled the car to the curb in front of Kerry’s home and shut off the engine. Kerry gripped the door handle as he started up at the front of the entrance of his house. “Well . . .” He smirked. “I’m guessing Indian takeaway awaits.”
“You’ll only find out if you go inside.” Bernice cracked open her door. “Shall we?”
“You bet.” Kerry was out of the car and had his backpack and luggage in-hand about a half a minute later. He was half way up the walk when the front door opened and his mother framed the entrance.
Now we’re home–well, Kerry is, we’re just watching as readers. Kerry’s already thinking about what’s ahead two weeks in the future, and all of the fine dining that awaits him as Casa Malibey. We’ve already seen that Kerry has become spoiled by the fine dining that is a trademark of the School at Salem, and when he returns home for the various holidays, he’s not happy with the home fare, but hey: that’s what happens when you’re now having your food cooked for you by artificial people working with time spells.
Was he right?
“There you are.” She opened the outer door. “Welcome home, Kerry.”
“Hi, Mom.” He walked into the entrance hallway.with Ms. Rutherford right behind him. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, Kerry.” His father waved from the lounge entryway. “How was the flight over?”
“He got into Heathrow on-time.” Ms. Rutherford adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Miracles do happen, even today.”
“Yeah—” He turned half-way back towards Ms. Rutherford. “It was just like magic.” He was afraid she wouldn’t get the little in-joke, but she smiled and gave him a little nod to let him know she understood.
“I’m glad you didn’t have any problems getting here.” His mother turned towards Kerry’s case working. “How long is Kerry with us?”
“Until 5 January. I told him I’ll be by to pick him up that afternoon, then it’s off to London and a late-night flight back to the States.” Bernice glanced towards the boy. “We went over this in the car just before we arrived.”
“Yeah, I got it all, Mom.” He gripped the handle of his luggage. “Then you don’t see me for five months.”
His mother chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to get by.”
Bernice felt it was time to go. Kerry needed no further information, and any additional updates would come too him through email and texts. “With that said . . .” She faced Kerry’s parents. “Mr. Malibey, Mrs. Malibey: Have a good holiday and a wonderful Christmas.”
Louise Malibey answered for them both. “You, too, Ms. Rutherford. Have a wonderful holiday.”
“I will, thank you.” She faced Kerry. “Enjoy the Yule holiday, Kerry.” A slight smile played across her face. “You’ll be back at school in no time at all.”
“I know.” He grinned back. “Have a good Yule, Ms. Rutherford.”
“Take care, Kerry.” She bid everyone a good evening and returned to the car.
Yeah, totally right. Though he gets points for zipping off a inside joke that only Ms. Rutherford and he could get–for now. Give that another five months we’ll see if mom and dad get the joke.
Speaking of mom and dad–
Louise locked the inner door before speaking to her son. “We didn’t know if you’d eaten on the flight or picked up something on the train—”
“I had a little something before getting on the train.” He fidgeted next to his luggage. “Nothing big, just enough to to hold me over.”
“Okay, well . . .” Louise seemed a bit embarrassed. “I had nothing planed tonight; we thought we’d just get some take away—”
Kerry resisted the urge to smirk. “That’s fine, Mom.”
Davyn Malibey spoke finally spoke up. “How do you feel about fish and chips?”
“That would be great, Dad.”
“That’ll work.” His father looked at his wife. “I’ll call Albany. We can have them deliver.”
By the way, the Albany Fish Bar is the place of which his father is referring, and it’s a real place, only about a kilometer from their house, and it gets a lot of good reviews. Hard to say if this is the same place that Kerry said has fish and chips that don’t measures up to Salem’s, but–we already know he’s getting spoiled, and he better learn to Cook the Salem Way if he doesn’t want to spend the next hundred years going, “The pizza at Salem is better than this crap.” Don’t disappoint yourself, kid: take that step.
There’s a little more back and forth with his mother–who wants to know if Kerry is gonna have issues with jet lag–and then it’s off to his first floor room:
Kerry headed up the stairs to the first floor, taking the left from the landing directly to his room. He pushed the door shut with his foot—he was careful not to use magic to swing it shut from a meter or more away—and set his backpack on his bed. He wasn’t concerned about putting his clothes up at this moment, but he did want his computer set up right away.
He pulled the tablet computer and keyboard from his backpack, set them upon his computer nook between the northeast wall and his wardrobe, and powered up the system as he retrieved the power adapter. The system was up almost instantly due to the upgrades Isis had performed on his system for his birthday. He waited until his tablet was hooked into the house grid before taking time to admire his desktop wallpaper: a selfie of Annie and him snapped at the Starbucks the day Alex invited them to come in, sit, and chat. He’d considered changing the wallpaper before coming home, but decided to leave it as is: he figured if his mom or dad had questions about the girl in the picture, he’d tell them. After all they knew Annie was in his “dorm”, and that she shared classes with him—
And she’s already planning our wedding and I’ve met her parents and she’s said she’s carrying our kids— He sat on the corner of his bed, his eyes locked on the image of his Chestnut Girl, the girl of his dreams that he loved so dearly. I wonder what mom would say about that?
He lay back on his bed, placing his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Annie was going to do her Adjustment when she got home. He sighed softly. She should be getting up right about now . . .
Right now, I would give anything to be able to draw a picture of the selfie serving as Kerry’s tablet wallpaper. I can imagine Annie holding her Frappuccino so it’s seen–or maybe Kerry had Alex or Penny take the picture with his phone, and they’re both holding their Starbucks drinks up while they sit, cheek-to-cheek, smiling like crazy and as happy as two kids in love can be. It’s the one thing I love about their world being rooted in ours: kids are still doing kids things, and once again stuffy witch Annie show everyone she’s really a teenager at heart. Only she can kill you with her mind, which means you still gotta stay on her good side.
Now, if Kerry is wondering about Annie getting up right about the time he’s laying down, if you remember what happened during their time apart last Yule, you’ll know what’s coming next . . .