A Simple Thank You

All it might have taken was a simple 'thank you.'

Mary let out a loud huff. She waddled over to the lounge chair and collapsed.

Kay sat nearby with her book up to her nose and pretended to be reading. If she glanced at her sister for even a second, Mary would order her to do something.

“Are you at a stopping place?” Mary asked in a gravelly voice that sounded as if she’d been sleeping for hours.

Kay turned a page. Yes, she could stop, but why should she? This marked the first time in two weeks that she’d indulged in a little pleasure reading.

Another loud huff sounded in the vicinity of Mary. How was a person supposed to concentrate when Mary made so much noise? Kay kept reading.

“Kay, are you at a stopping place?” This time Mary’s voice echoed clear without the sickly affections.

Kay looked up. “I am now.”

“Good, I need you to get my medicine. It’s on the counter in the kitchen by the sink. I feel a spell coming on any minute.”

A spell coming on? When was a spell not coming on? Kay got up. She placed the book on the little table by the lounge chair. A soft breeze turned the page. “You’ll lose your place,” Mary said. “Put a bookmark in. Don’t lay it flat. It will ruin the binding. When you go in for my medicine, you can get a bookmark in the desk drawer.” She wiped sweat from her face and neck.

Kay walked inside. Every cell in her body wanted to scream. She’d been bossed around by Mary her entire life. Growing up, Kay waited on her sister hand and foot. She’d run down the stairs and tell their mom, “Mary wants a glass of water.” Mom always asked, “Why can’t the princess get it herself?” Kay replied each time, “She says she doesn’t feel well.”

Inside the small condo, Kay found the medicine exactly where Mary said it would be. She lifted two pills, Mary’s usual dose, filled a glass with three cubes of ice and returned to the patio.

“You didn’t bring the pad. You know I have to record the medicine on the pad. Go back and get the pad.” She patted more sweat off her upper lip.

On the way back, Kay wondered what her life would have been like if she hadn’t chosen to live with her sister. She imagined herself in a big house with several children and a husband. Kay had a chance for that kind of life, but she’d turned it down. Or, rather Mary did it for her.

Kay handed Mary the pad and pencil. Mary shoved the water glass at her. “I need more than this to take two pills.”

When Hank had asked Kay to marry him, Kay bubbled with joy. She raced home to tell her sister. “He’ll move in here, of course,” Mary responded. She was watching her daily soap opera and hadn’t even muted the sound.

Kay had not thought about where they’d live. Mary and Kay had resided together ever since their parents were killed in an automobile accident ten years previously. Mary still ordered Kay around like a slave, but Kay always thought she’d eventually move away.

“I think we will find our own place,” Kay had said. But, Mary burst out laughing. “How will you do that? I have all the money. You either live here with him or you’ll be penniless.”

That was when Kay had made the biggest mistake of her life. She told Hank what Mary had said. He refused and later ended the relationship.

Last week, Kay celebrated her 54^th birthday alone in her room. Mary didn’t even remember.

“Kay, what in the world are you doing? Where’s my water?” Mary’s voice travelled far when she wanted it to.

Kay refilled the water glass along with the contents of the syringe and added the requisite number of ice cubes.

All her life Kay did what Mary wanted. Last year Kay decided to make some changes. She had begun syphoning money out of the bank account. Mrs. Warner at the bank knew her and knew how Mary treated her. She helped Kay open her own account. It had grown steadily. Kay was ready.

Back on the patio, Kay handed the glass to Mary and stood there.

“Well, what do you want?”

Kay stared her sister in the face. “I want you to say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you for what?”

Kay shrugged. “For everything. But, if you want me to be specific, for the glass of water I just handed you.”

Mary burst into a fit of laughter, her heavy breasts bouncing up and down.

“That really has been all I’ve ever wanted from you, Mary. Just a word of gratitude. A simple thank you.”

Kay turned and walked back into the condo. She gathered her few things and put them in the suitcase she’d bought last week at Wal-Mart.

Mary screamed in a choking voice. “Kay, get out here now… something’s… wrong with me.” From everything Kay had read it wouldn’t take long; it would be fast.

Kay walked out the front door, down the street and caught the bus to Nashville, a city she’d always wanted to visit.

Spotlight on Joan C. Curtis

Today we're spending our time getting to know Lightning Quick Reads author, Joan C. Curtis. 

Four times business book author, Joan C. Curtis, released her first mystery/suspense title, The Clock Strikes Midnight.

Her first-place book awards include: Best mystery manuscript in the Malice Domestic Grants competition and best proposal for nonfiction in the Harriette Austin competition

Joan has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember.  She reads all kinds of books, including women’s fiction, mysteries, biography, and memoir.  Her passion as a reader lies closer to literary writing with a commercial bent. She writes books she would love to read.

“I write about characters who remind me of myself at times and my sister at times, but never fully so. My stories are told from a woman’s point of view. Characters drive my writing and my reading.”

Having grown up in the South with a mother from Westchester County New York, Joan has a unique take on blending the southern traditions with the eye of a northerner.  She spent most of her childhood in North Carolina and now resides in Georgia.

LQR: Welcome, Joan. Thanks for visiting with us today. Can you tell our readers a little about you?

Joan: I’m married with three step children and four step grandchildren. My career before writing consisted of public speaking. I was a leadership development specialist with an emphasis on communication. I led many workshops and retreats and wrote four business books around these topics. Personally, I love to read. I’m also an exercise junkie, a cat lover and a person who wishes she lived in Italy.

LQR: If you had to pick only one moment that spurred you to write professionally, what moment is the most inciting?

Joan: A number of years ago, I submitted a story to a national contest sponsored by Reader’s Digest and McCall’s Magazine. My story won second place, and the Reader’s Digest editor called me. A year later my story was published as an original piece for that publication. That experience led me to believe I could write professionally. It was the first time I was paid for something I wrote.

LQR: Does the majority of your work focus around or within a single theme? If so, what is it?

Joan: No, my work contains various theme. For the most part I write stories that include some component of mystery or suspense. But the theme of The Clock Strikes Midnight is very different from that of The e-Murderer.

LQR: Tell us about your newest release.

Joan: My newest release is The e-Murderer which will launch September, 1st. This is the first in a series starring Jenna Scali and her friends. The early manuscript of this book won first place in the Malice Domestic Grants Competition. Currently I’m working on the second book in the Jenna Scali series. I’m also working on another stand alone story that is too early in its creation to discuss.

print book available August 31st

LQR: What is one of your favorite authorial moments from your career so far?

Joan: One of the hardest things to do in this world of publishing is to get a fiction piece accepted. My nonfiction books were quickly picked up by Praeger Press. But, fiction is another story. When I received the letter of acceptance from MuseItUp Publishing for The Clock Strikes Midnight, I was stunned and elated. That had to be a favorite moment for me as an author. It meant someone believed in my work.

LQR: Share with us a five year goal for your writing career.

Joan: My five year goal is to see both Jenna Scali mysteries published and a third on the way. I’d also like to see The Clock Strikes Midnight made into a movie (ha, ha) and publish my current standalone book. My dream is to live in Italy for a period of time where I would write book 3 of the Jenna Scali mystery. Imagine her going there to find her ancestors and she stumbles on a murder…

LQR: Do you write what you read? Watch? What are your favorite television shows and movies?

Joan: I write books I’d love to read. Do I write what I read? I’m not sure about that. I am sure I don’t write what I watch although my favorite TV shows are mysteries including all of Masterpiece Mystery. I also love Masterpiece Classic (including Downton Abbey). My favorite movies vary. I loved Kings Speech and ART. I also loved all the Girl with the Dragoon Tattoo movies (Swedish version) and books.

LQR: If you had one week away from any and all responsibility what would you want to spend your time doing?

Joan: Setting is critical. So, I’d be in a small village in Tuscany, Umbria or Puglia. I’d spend the morning sipping coffee at a local café and talking with the locals. I’d spend the early afternoon on a bench watching people, studying their habits, noting their gestures and recording those details The latter part of the day, I’d take off for a tour of the region. That evening, I’d spend time reading and sipping a hearty red wine.

Winner to be announced in October. Congrats & good luck Joan!

LQR: That sounds wonderful! Anything else you’d like to add?

Joan: It’s been great fun writing the short stories for Lighting Quick Reads. Being a mystery writer, I try to give the stories some kind of surprise. I’ve also enjoyed reading the other authors’s stories. Short story writing is very different than novel writing and has enabled me to stretch my writing skill.

LQR: That’s great to hear, Joan. Thank you. Where can readers find you online?

Joan: Readers can find me on my website http://www.joancurtis.com I’d love for them to sign up there. They’d get my bi-monthly newsletter as well as all the updates on upcoming releases. I’d also love to see them on my blog http://www.joancurtis.com/blog There I post lots of writing tips, author interviews, book reviews and much more. And of course, I’m on Twitter @joancurtis. I have a Facebook author’s page http://www.facebook.com/joancurtisauthor

The Dog Who Couldn't Wag His Tail

Dog days bring more than summer heat...

I awoke to a cold, dreary, rainy Sunday morning, one of those November days when you want to remain tucked in bed. To stave the chill, I grabbed a steaming cup of coffee and then glanced out my window. He stood in the icy rain, watching me. Whose dog is that? I turned away from the window, wanting nothing to do with another four-legged creature, and proceeded to eat my breakfast.

Hard as I fought it, my eyes kept drifting toward this most unwelcome hungry, wet intruder. The animal’s intense gaze struck me first, and then his lameness. He held his left leg up, clearly unable to walk on it. With a softened heart, I opened the backdoor, but the dog crept deeper into the woods, his tail, broken and hanging between his legs. Pitiful, absolutely pitiful.

By the time we returned from church, I had forgotten about the stray dog. Later I wandered outside where I found him, standing away from the house, watching me from his perch. He held his lame leg off the ground. His ears flattened against his head.

That evening I said to my husband, “Did you see that German-shepherd looking dog in the woods this morning?”

“Don’t even think about it. And anyway I believe he belongs to the neighbors around the corner.”

I sighed, relieved. But the memory of that dog, the yearning in his eyes haunted me.   

  

Days passed. The dog didn’t go away. After I fed my resident canines, he sneaked up to the house and devoured whatever food was left. At first I discouraged this behavior, but when I saw his ribs, I allowed him to scavenge. My heart ached for the miserable life this poor animal led. No way this dog belonged to our neighbors. He clearly belonged to no one.

During the first week, Wolf, as I now called him, hung out in our woods, watched us, and waited for our dogs to finish eating. By the next week, Wolf had his own personal food dish, purchased at Pet Smart with him in mind.

Wolf still refused to come near us. He continued to hang out in the woods while I inched his dish closer and closer to the house. The other dogs played with Wolf. He trusted the dog world, whereas he remained steadfastly fearful of the people world.

As weeks multiplied into months and warm summer days came upon us, Wolf fattened up. But, ticks covered his body. He stood on his lame leg, but his fur was matted and rough.

One night during dinner, Wolf sat on his broken tail at the edge of the woods. I said, “Don’t you think it must be the worst thing in the world for a dog not to be able to wag his tail. It’d be like not being able to laugh.”

“I doubt that dog has had too much to laugh about,” my husband said between bites.   

More months passed. At a safe distance, Wolf watched us pet and play with the other dogs. With his eyes fixed on us, he never moved from his perch. Each night we gave the other dogs Milkbone treats. Not being able to stand seeing the glow of Wolf’s eyes, alone in the dark, I approached him with a treat, but he moved away, tail between his legs, ears flat. I tossed the tasty morsel in his direction. He stopped, sniffed the bone, and gobbled it down.

In the spring my cousins came to visit. Being animal lovers, they talked and played with our dogs. My cousin, Frank, cajoled Wolf to come to him. But Wolf kept his distance and merely watched the strangers. Before Frank left, he said, “That dog will be the most lovable of your dogs one day.”  I laughed, completely rejecting Frank’s prediction. What did he know?  He hadn’t been dealing with Wolf for over a year. I had resigned myself to Wolf’s self-imposed distance. At least now he had food every day.

After the seasons changed again from summer to winter and back to summer, I no longer tossed the Milkbone treat to Wolf. He took the bone from my hand held at arm’s length. By now Wolf ate with the other dogs and didn’t creep into the woods whenever the door to the house opened. But he still watched us warily and never let us approach him.

On a hot, humid day in August while I held the Milkbone treat toward Wolf, his tongue touched my hand. Oh, my God! He licked me. Surely he didn’t mean it. The next day Wolf did it again. Bubbling with excitement, I flew in the house to report what Wolf had done.

The following day while Wolf ate, I approached him, stopped, and stood. My heart thundered, my hand trembled. I reached out and, for the first time in over two years, stroked the top of Wolf’s head. He lowered his body, but he didn’t jerk away. His fur felt course, not smooth like the other dogs. His huge brown eyes studied me with a mixture of resignation and fear, but his broken tail lifted slightly.

That warm summer I began petting Wolf regularly. When he lowered his head, as if he thought I might strike him, I raised his chin. The fear in his eyes transformed to trust and love with each stroke. But best of all, he lifted his broken tail as high as he could, and he began wagging it. For the first time since that cold November day, Wolf wagged his tail and lifted his ears. Tears of joy filled my eyes.

Today, Wolf has no ticks. He’s a well-fed, neutered animal with a shiny black coat. Unfortunately his former life left wounds. His limp comes and goes apparently from an old injury. But that doesn’t stop him from running to greet us every night with his broken tail held as high as he can raise it and wagging with such force that his entire backend wiggles. Indeed, he has become the most affectionate canine in our pack.

The dog days of August for some mean days that are so full of heat and humidity the dogs go crazy, howling from the burning temperatures. In Georgia we say, It’s too hot to work. For me, however, dog days in August mean something totally different.

It was during those "dog days" that Wolf finally lifted his head and wagged his tail.

MuseItUp publishing will release the print version of The Clock Strikes Midnight this month, August 2015.