 |
| My beautiful late mother |
Unfortunately, I was really, really bad at it. I was obsessed with the standard "rich&handsome executive meets regular gal" plot. I had no idea how conflict worked. I was sadly addicted to adverbs. But to prove that I tried, here's the first page of this not-really-funny story that I called, "Funny."
***
“Oh, heavens, it feels good to take off my nose.”
David Exings stopped dead in the doorway of his office. He still had to be on the plane and dreaming – that was the only explanation of this surreality. There was a pair of huge green and white shoes by his sofa, a bright green puff actually on the sofa, and garishly colored clothing strewn over the floor of his office. The bathroom door was open and the light was on.
“Hello?”
“Uhhh, hi.”
The woman’s voice was rich but just as confused as he was. That was nice, he
thought. He didn’t like to be alone in his confusion. “Who’s there?” she
continued.
“David
Exings.”
“Oh, dear.”
A pause. “Um, Mr. Exings, could you hand me that black leather bag that’s by
the sofa? I’ll change and take off my face and be right out of here.”
 |
| Your author and Dr. Sister in their misspent youth. |
“Ah.” What
did that mean? “Certainly. Here it is.” He found the bag (oddly restrained
compared to the rest of the office) and handed it around the corner. A woman’s
hand reached around the corner of the bathroom door and snatched the bag. Her
voice came to him, over the sound of running water.
“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be
using your bathroom, Mr. Exings, but you weren’t expected back until tomorrow - I even double checked your flight. I was just cleaning myself up after the
picnic. And I know that the manual says
it is ok to use the bathroom for events, but most of us don’t use it. I hope
you understand. ” She sounded nervous.
“Oh, I’m
sorry.” A woman popped out of the
bathroom, her scrubbed face shining and her long brown hair slicked back
wetly. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with
The Phantom on it. “I apologize for my appearance.” She held out her hand. “I’m
Natalie Clare. I’m the consultant you hired to be the acting head of security
for your computing division. I was the
clown for the company picnic.”
David smiled internally, grateful his logic was
still working.
“Once everyone found out
this was how I earned my way through college, they were ruthless about getting
me to do this.” He gravely shook her
hand and looked her up and down. He was charmed by her silver toenails and
green toe ring. She even had a delicate chain leading from the toe ring to an
anklet.
She flushed under his scrutiny and pushed at her hair. “I’ll be right
out of here.” She turned to pack up her costume. David discovered that the
green puff was a wig, and the shoes were much more substantial that he had
imagined.
She was pretty, David noticed,
startled. As she stuffed a pouch filled with brightly colored, empty balloons
into her bag, he finally spoke again.
“Yes?” She
turned around, a resigned look on her face.
“How did my
niece enjoy the party?”
Natalie smiled
with remembered pleasure and some relief. “She had a very good time. She was disappointed that you couldn’t make
it, so I sent some extra balloons home with her for you. I hope you like teddy bears. She said you
would like those best.” Natalie started putting the balloons in her pack, and
then glanced up. “She’s a charming child, Mr. Exings. You are doing a fine
job.”
“Would you
be willing to make something for her from me? I was disappointed as well. I
would have far preferred to be here than stuck in O’Hare for two days.”
“Why
certainly, Mr. Exings.” She looked at her bag of balloons, considering. “How
long until you see her?”
“I’ll see her at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Ah, then
we will need something sturdy. How does a turtle sound?”
“That sounds
fine.”
Natalie selected a green balloon and blew it up a short way. Her swift movements fascinated David as she tied it off, and began twisting. She pulled a marker out of her bag, and, in a few economical strokes, put a smiling turtle face on the balloon. “Here you go.”
He
considered the little happy face seriously. “Thank you, Miss Clare.”
***
At least I tried, Dr. Dad. :) 
