Posts tagged ‘supper’

Country Keeps Me Sane

by: Rebecca Taylor (written in 2005)

Life’s so crazy

Some days it’s just hazy

I work all day

Waiting for pay day to get me through

But country keeps me sane

Walking down Ben Cartwright’s memory lane

Singing “Huckleberry” with Toby Keith

Watching “Big Valley” with Heath

Going to school, going to work

Trying to keep my cool

Listening to so many complain

I feel so drained

But country keeps me sane

A long walk past the cornfield

Writing a novel of days gone by

Reading a Louis L’Amour book

The phone keeps ringing

The kettle’s singing

I burnt supper

I just can’t seem to find the right picker upper

But country keeps me sane

Watching a John Wayne movie

Hearing a Kenny Rogers song

Watching horses run in their pasture

Some days seem to drag on forever

I forgot to format the letter

My head feels like it could bust

Nobody’ll agree to what we’ve discussed

Thank goodness, country keeps me sane

For the cup of campfire coffee

The sound of the guitar

And the fresh outdoor air.

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The Key Confusion

**previously published by Dark Fountain Magazine.**

by: Rebecca Taylor

It was late in the day when Gord Taft arrived home from his job at the flooring warehouse. He entered through the kitchen door, and immediately the smells of a home cooked meal hit him. His heart starting pumping faster. His hands tightly gripped his set of keys. I must be hungry, I’m losing my mind, he thought but a glance at the kitchen table told him he was sane. It was laden with food; there was enough food to feed a large family. There was a turkey sitting at his place waiting to be carved, cranberry sauce, homemade rolls, several kinds of salads and vegetables, and a multitude of pies on his counter. There wasn’t a dish in the sink, the stove was off, the dishes didn’t look familiar. What is going on here? I don’t own a serving dish, there is no way that I could cook all this and still have the kitchen look this good. The door was locked when I came in, I’ll check the back one. It was locked too, Gord walked through the rest of the house but everything looked untouched just as he had left it that morning. This doesn’t make sense, if someone did happen to break into my house, they would have taken something not brought me a feast that would feed dozens of people. What do I do now? Do I call the police because someone was obviously here? Will they believe me and realize that I am not some crazy attention-needing bachelor. The food smells so good too, but I don’t dare eat it, who knows who made it or why they were here. I’m going for a walk; I’m going to figure out what to do about this.

Gord strode out of the house and locked the door. His knuckles were white from clenching the keys so tightly. He stuck the keys in his pockets and walked out onto the sidewalk. He walked around the block and then not knowing why he ended up outside Claire Post’s door. He knocked and Claire came to the door crying followed by an older couple.

“Can you come back later, Gord, this isn’t a good time,” sobbed Claire.

“What’s wrong?” asked Gord ignoring Claire’s request for him to go away.

“These are my parents; they brought a feast and were going to be meeting Charles for the first time. They met me at work, got my car and keys, and then headed here to get the food ready for tonight, and then they headed back to get me. I drove home and expected to see a beautiful dinner all prepared and what do I find a cold empty kitchen. Somebody came in and stole my special supper. Charles is going to be here any time with his parents and we were all going to get to know each other over dinner but now I have no dinner. I’m going to call the police.”

Gord’s facial expression remained indifferent. “Come with me, I want to show you something, you’re going to like this.”

“Were you not listening to me?” snapped Claire, “my supper was stolen and you want to show me something.”

“Just come on, don’t argue.”

Claire and her parents followed Gord out of the house and down the driveway and then headed up an identical driveway to an identical house. Gord let them into the kitchen immediately, the smell of a home cooked meal greeted them.

“That’s the feast!” exclaimed Mrs. Post.

“I’m calling the police, why did you do it, you thief,” demanded Mr. Post.

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” said Gord struggling to keep a straight face. “Claire, did the set of keys you gave your parents have my key on it, the one I gave you in case of an emergency?”

“Yes, I keep all my keys together so I don’t lose them.”

“Your parents let themselves into my house not yours,” answered Gord allowing himself to laugh for the first time since he had first come home to find the feast.

After giving herself a minute to take in the information, Claire laughed about the uncanny situation. “Daddy, you owe Gord an apology, he didn’t steal your food, you and Mama put it in his house not mine. You never listen to me. I told you it was the third house from the corner; you know that and my address.”

A few hours later, the dinner party and Gord were finishing the feast, still laughing about the key confusion.

A Vegas Vacation

by: Rebecca Taylor

 

            It was supposed to be a getaway, a chance to have some fun and let her hair down but Maisie Monroe had found everything but what she was looking for. And all in front of the tux and bridal store. She had been out for a walk, sightseeing – checking out the interesting facets of Vegas. She thought maybe she’d find one of those pawn shops she was always seeing on television and stop in – maybe even meet a celebrity or two. Instead, she had found reminders of past heartbreak and despair in the form of her ex-fiancé’s brother. To be fair, the engagement had ended three years ago and Maisie was glad that she had seen fit to end the relationship before she married a man who claimed to love her yet refused to accept that she was entitled to have opinions about things. He had tried to use his love to hold her back from meeting people or advancing in her career. Thankfully, she had seen the signs before it was too late.

            “You’re the last person I expected to see in Vegas,” said Tom Banyon.

            “Why is that?” asked Maisie, “You didn’t think someone like I could be attracted to such a booming city?” The edge in her voice made it obvious that the pain she felt from Ryan’s behaviour still existed.

            “It was just a statement,” said Tom, “How’ve you been?”

            “Fine.”

            “That’s good. We’ve missed you, Maisie, just because you broke up with my brother doesn’t mean you had to cut us all off.”

            “Generally that’s how broken engagements work,” replied Maisie, “in order to respect your ex, you don’t become friends with his family anyways.”

            “I know Ryan did and said some things to make you leave, but that doesn’t mean you and I couldn’t get a cup of coffee – after all what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right?”

            “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” answered Maisie.

            “Come on Maisie, just because my older brother has issues, doesn’t mean you and I have to, what would a cup of coffee hurt? It’s not my first time in Vegas either, let me show you around.”

            “See it starts off a cup of coffee and then ends up being the sights, what next a Vegas wedding chapel? We are standing in front of a bridal and tux store. If that doesn’t send up red flags for you.”

            “Are you superstitious?”

            “Wouldn’t you be?”

            “Why don’t we start with the cup of coffee and see where it leads. I promise I will not marry you on this trip to Vegas,” answered Tom with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

            “Thank you,” answered Maisie, “that means that when I get back home and see sense I will know I didn’t do anything that I cannot undo.”

            “You can undo a marriage – especially a Vegas fast one,” said Tom, “if you want a chance at making it to the alter.”

            “That’s not fair,” answered Maisie walking away.

            “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It was supposed to be all in fun,” said Tom following her.

            “Do you think it was easy for me to admit that I made a mistake and had to walk away from Ryan and your family? But it wasn’t meant to be, there was no happily ever after there.”

            “Want to talk about it?” asked Tom gently.

            “I think we’ve dredged up enough of the past.”

            “It’s obvious that you’re not over what happened. You wouldn’t be so upset if you were.”

            “Do you have a degree in psychology now?”

            “No, but I can see when someone is hurting.”

            “Please, just leave it. I should be getting back to the hotel anyways.”

            “It’s early still and Vegas doesn’t sleep.”

            “I need time to think. It was nice to see you again.”

            “If you change your mind about coffee or whatever, I’m staying at the Round Tree Hotel.”

            “Are you kidding me?” asked Maisie, “So am I.”

            “Good, then I’ll walk with you.”

            Back at the hotel, Maisie reluctantly agreed to meet Tom for supper later. After all, they were going to be in the same dining room. It was hard to refuse. In her hotel room, Maisie screamed into her pillow. So much for her plan to see some sights, play some slot machines and be free of deadlines and responsibilities for a few days. She hadn’t spoken to any of the Banyon family for three years and now, she was eating supper with the ever so handsome Tom. And to make matters worse, she liked him, and always had. Is it a coincidence that I found him where I did? Ryan’s engaged again, I read that in the paper. What if I have a chance at love, even if it is with his brother? Slow down, Maisie, it’s just supper. We will see where this leads, and wherever it does, I will have to proceed with caution. I know what I want this time, and I’m open to the opportunities supper brings, but I won’t get swept into the romance, first I will think with my head and then ask my heart what it thinks. I won’t let a Vegas romance take over. What happens in Vegas, really should stay there. Unless it doesn’t…anyways, I will have something to tell my friends back home.

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