Funny thing about writing, at least for me, the characters that I write, dream up, imagine, tend to just happen. I start with a name, usually randomly generated or asked for in a Where, What and Who of Writing prompt. I then put the name into the plot of the story and give it a description, build, hair color, eye color, clothing, behaviors, personality. Add some relevant dialog, either as internal monologuing, or with another character. I also do pull personality traits from people that I have known or just observed during my life. The point of this ramboling flow of words, I was going over the characters that I had come up with over the last few years, because I have writer’s block and was looking to see if I could expand on any of the short stories that I have started.
So for your reading enjoyment, and hopefully some inspiration, here are some of my character introductions.
In a farmhouse surrounded by acres of sweet corn on a warm summer’s day in late June, Grace Ann Chapman came into this world screaming.
Local paper birth announcements:
The community of Ridgeville Nebraska would like to welcome Grace Ann born June 22nd, 1974 to William and Martha Chapman. Congratulations on your healthy baby girl. Martha clipped out the announcement form the Daily Sun Newspaper and taped it into Grace’s baby book.
William Chapman worked the land that had been handed down to him from his father. It was hard daily grueling work to keep the corn crops heath and on schedule for harvest. He took pride in what his family had established over the past three generations of Chapman’s and did his best to keep it going. With the birth of his first child, Grace Ann he knew that there would need to be more children, he loved and adored his daughter but knew that a son would be needed to keep the farm in the Chapman name.
Grace Ann was a sweet helpful child that was always full of questions. Always asking why this or why that. When her brother William Joseph was born five years later, Grace became a little quieter, but still helping Martha clean and cook, just not asking as many questions. Two years later Grace’s youngest brother was born, Jonathan Michael was a loud baby he cried and screamed about everything. Grace tried to be helpful, but Jonathan’s constant crying wore on her, she stopped asking questions all together.
This was Grace’s original introduction when I wrote her in college.
Grace sat on the patio and lit a cigarette, she took a deep drag and exhaled. The first light of day had begun to show, it had been a long night. She looked down at her hands looking past the dirt she noticed that a few of her manicured nails were broken.
“I’ll have to trim them all down.” she thought as she poured a glass of Jack and downed it.
Finishing her cigarette and letting out a sigh, she arose from the patio chair. She wandered inside and up the stairs. Taking her clothes off and dropping them into the hamper. Standing in the bathroom she took out the fingernail clippers from her make-up bag and trimmed her fingernails. She stepped into the shower and turned on the water.
Tears started to stream down her face as she slid down and sat in the corner of the tub, crying.
“I am so sorry, it should have never turned out like this.”
“Fuck, where is my tie, I am late for the 1:30 pm meeting,” John said.
“Relax, they will wait for you,” Jenny said, as she picked up his navy blue neck tie off the floor of the hotel room and put it around his neck.
“See there you go all dressed,” she said.
“Thank you, I love you,” he kissed her.
“Love you too,”
John gathered his wallet, keys, phone, and briefcase and left the hotel room. He took the elevator down to the parking garage and got into his car. His phone beeped while he was exiting the garage, one missed call, from Grace. John sighed
“Suppose I should call the wife back,” he mumbled to himself.
After his meeting, Jenny his assistant, came into his office.
“How did it go?”
“Good, they will send over a contract next week,” he answered.
His phone rang it was Grace, he pushed ignore call, and looked at Jenny.
“When are you going to tell her?”
He sat at his desk looking at the portrait of Grace, thinking about how they had fallen out of love years ago and now just tolerated each other.
John and his assistant Jenny had been sleeping together for two years now. He had started out by saying he would never indulge with someone at work, but over the time spent together they had fallen in love. He had tried to ignore the butterflies he felt in his gut when she had first started working for him, the stolen glances across the room, the accidental touches in passing.
He ignored it till that one day, he had started his morning having an argument with Grace about never spending any time together. He had stormed out of the house and gone to the office.
Jenny was there looking so pretty, with her long legs, bright blue eyes and bouncy blonde hair, there to listen. He had broken down in front of her and they ended up in a hotel room together during lunch. He talked, she comforted and listened. Jenny made the first move, kissing him on the cheek, it turned into a make out session followed by an afternoon fling.
John tried to push her away and not feel the warmth and comfort of her. Telling himself it was just once, a moment of weakness. But it was there a connection between them. That hole in his heart that he had been carrying around for years was now filled with her. Her passion for life, her understanding, her love.
Then there is Sister Bernadette and Father Gabriel.
Sister Bernadette was born Marie Ann Riggs of Iowa, an everyday ordinary average looking girl, with dark brown shoulder length hair and green eyes. The only child of Joseph and Clara Riggs. Her parents were kind, hard working individuals that knew early on that Marie was not a happy child. She was quite, shy and kept to herself. When she turned 18 and announced to her parents that she would be joining a convent to take her vows, her parents were relieved that she had found her calling. They wished her well and let her go on her way.
Now named Sister Bernadette she found herself at St. Anthony’s, a small church with just herself and Father Gabriel inhabiting the grounds. Sister Bernadette was taken with Father Gabriel as soon as she laid eyes on him, a good looking man, clean-shaven, with short dark hair and even darker eyes, that just sucked her in. She was completely obedient to him, from the beginning.
As Grace was leaving St. Anthony’s Father Gabriel a clean-shaven, good-looking guy, in his late thirties with short dark hair and even darker eyes stopped her.
“I lead a women’s group two nights a week if you would like to join us,” he handed her a flyer.
“Thank you, I will think about it,” she said taking the flyer.
“Please do,” Father Gabriel said, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze. Grace smiled at him and left.
Father Gabriel entered his office he stood in front of his desk thinking about what Grace had confessed. He picked up a small silver bell and rang it. Sister Bernadette entered the office, her eyes glazed over and her voice void of feeling. “Yes Father?”
“I need you to relieve me,” he said. She nodded, she stood in front of him unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.
Detective Eric Stone
Detective Eric Stone a well built guy with good hair in his early forties entered the room. She looked at him and knew she was in for it now, Detective Eric Stone her friendly stranger from the bar.
“Karma is a bitch,” she thought to herself.
“Have a seat Mrs. Summers,” Detective Stone said.
“Do you know why you are here?”
“Yes,” answered Grace.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened to your husband John Summers,”
Detective Sarah Miller
Grace sat and sipped on the water and waited, a woman in a pants suit walked in and approached the check in desk. The attendant motion towards Grace and the woman walked over to her.
“Mrs. Summers, I am detective Sarah Miller,” she said.
Grace made eye contact with her and tried to smile, tears were welling up in her eyes. She knew she was exhausted and just wanted all of this over with. Detective Miller accompanied her back to an exam room, where she made her statement of what she could remember, photos were taken, blood was drawn and a rape kit collected.
Grace didn’t want to think too much about what was being done to her she just knew that it hurt and she wanted it over. She was allowed to shower and given clothes from the lost and found to wear. A dark blue tee-shirt, a pair of gray sweets and some slip on shoes. Detective Miller gave Grace her card and told her to keep in touch. She went to her Honda and sat trying to process what had just happened.
“I know it is the right thing to do, especially since I can’t remember,”
Stella looked herself over in the full length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door in her modest one bedroom apartment. It was her first day as Mr. Bridges personal assistant, she wanted to give a professional appearance. Stella ran her hands down her A-line navy skirt and finished buttoning up her light blue silk blouse. She had decided to wear her dark blonde hair down, it fell nicely on to her shoulders.
Good enough she sighed.
Mr. Bridges was a large man with broad shoulders that spent his days in business meetings and on conference calls. He was polite to Stella and always gave her exact instructions about how she should answer the phone and type up a correspondence. She enjoyed her job for the most part, although some days when Mr. Bridges would lean in to her, she would get a nose full of his liberal use of Brut cologne. It made her gag and she would move back or stand up.
“Bring him in. Put him in the chair,” Holly shut the door behind the three men.
“What’s his name?” she asked the guy in the baseball cap.
“John,” he answered.
“Ok, you two can wait over there,” she waved her arm towards a couch on the far wall.
She bent down next to him and spoke softly in his ear.
“John, can you hear me?”
“John I want you to listen to my voice, take a deep breath,”
John inhaled deeply, held it for a second and then exhaled slowly.
“Very good John, now you are relaxed,” she took his hand and slowly rubbed her thumb back and forth against the inside of his palm.
“You are in a safe place, do you understand John?”
“Yes,” he answered with his head still down.
“Good John, now you will follow my instructions,”
Holly got up and headed over to the couch.
“And you two are?”
“I’m Kyle ma’am, and he’s Luke” the guy in the baseball cap said standing up and extending his hand. She shook his hand and he sat back down.
“How much did he have to drink?”
“Maybe six beers and three shots of Jameson,” Kyle answered.
“His phone,” Holly put out her hand. Kyle looked at Luke.
“Oh yeah,” he reached into his jacket pocket and handed her John’s phone.
“What’s the wife’s name?”
“Hanna” Luke answered.
“How long do we have?” she asked looking at the two of them.
“I told her that he would be home by 2 am,”
Holly glanced up at the clock above the couch that read 12:35 am and sighed.
“It will be close but I can make it,”
“Are you two staying?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kyle answered.
“Who gave you my name and address?”
“Bryce Davis ma’am,”
“Go figure you help one ex-lover one time,”
Bryce finished off his second drink when a voice asked.
“So what does that stand for?” she asked as she ran her fingers along the tattoo on his forearm.
A shiver ran up his back as she took a seat across from him. He cleared his throat.
“It’s the Celtic symbol for loyalty,” he answered her.
“So you wanted to see me?”
Bryce leaned in, gazing into her deep green eyes. “How much for the night?”
Mary smiled, “five,”
Bryce leaned back. “Sure,”
He got up and put his jacket on.
“Meet me outside,”
Detective Daniel Hayes
James entered the front of the downtown precinct, Officer Roberts pointed to a tall fit guy, with shoulder length hair, wearing a leather jacket, and jeans.
“Can I help you?” James asked.
“Well actually I am here to help you, Detective Daniel Hayes, vice,” Detective Hayes extended his hand towards James.
“You’re Detective Knowles’ undercover guy,”
“Guess that’s one way to put it,”
“Come on back, lets see if we can’t connect some dots,”
Detective Benjamin Knowles
“You have a call on line 2,” the speaker on the desk phone announced.
“Hello, Detective Andrews speaking,”
“Detective James Andrews?” the voice asked.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“I am Detective Benjamin Knowles, of the 45th precinct on Southside, and you have been requested in a homicide case we caught out here, do you know a Stella Henderson-Newcomb?” Detective Knowles asked.
“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time, what’s the case?”
Detective James Andrews
Detective Andrews grabbed a cup of coffee with two sugars, a splash of cream, his notepad and a new black ballpoint pen. As he headed out to his car the desk attendant said.
“No rest for the wicked,” James flipped him off as he left the precinct.
It was a long drive out to Cornerstone, James switched on the radio, soft jazz played as he rolled down the window. The warm April breeze felt good, this winter had been fridged and unforgiving.
Detective Josephine Marks, Detective John Keen and Special Agent Thomas Ridge
“What the hell do you want?” Marco said as he opened the door.
“You,” she answered, pushing her way into the apartment.
“What are you on about Scarlet?”
“Well, first of all I am not Scarlet, I am Detective Josephine Marks,”
Marco gave her a sideways look when she said the word detective. In that moment of confusion John entered the living room from the sliding glass door and tased Marco. Catching him in the side of the neck.
He jolted forward and then fell back missing the chair and landing on the floor.
“Jesus Christ how much did you hit him with?” she asked leaning down to check for a pulse.
“It’s on the standard setting,” John answered.
There were three quick knocks on the door.
“That’s Tom let him in,”
“Who the fuck is Tom?”
“Introductions later, let him in,”
John opened the door.
“Tom I presume,” he said as the doorman rushed past him.
“What the hell, you weren’t supposed to kill him,” Tom said kneeling beside Josephine.
“That wasn’t our intention,” she said.
“Ok, so now what?” John asked pouring himself a Scotch.
“You had might as well make it three,” she said getting up to take a glass of Scotch from the kitchen counter.
Josephine downed her Scotch.
“No time like the present for introductions, Detective John Keen meet Special Agent Thomas Ridge of the FBI,”
“Fuck Josephine what have you gotten us into?” John said as he downed another Scotch.
Sarah and David
David was a good looking guy in his mid twenties, fit, active and wanted to make films. For which he was taking some courses up at the local community college. Which is where he met Sarah, they happen to have a creative writing class together.
He was immediately taken with her, saw her as a potential actress in one of his films. All daydreams at this point, he had introduced himself to her over lunch one day and they hit it off, making small talk about future goals and dreams.
There was also an attraction, Sarah wasn’t sure why, but knew it was there a chemical response to him. Maybe it was just her wanting some attention, she had broken up with her boyfriend a while ago and now found herself enjoying David’s company.
David closed the blinds on the bedroom window and turned on the bedside lamp. He pulled the blue and grey striped bedspread down. Folding it back onto itself at the foot of the bed.
“Nice sheets,” Sarah said, as she took off her shoes, jeans and t-shirt.
She was wearing a matching set, purple satin panties and bra. Sarah was short, cute and cut, showing her defined muscles from years of biking and swimming.
“Very nice, but are you going to leave those on?” he pointed to her white socks.
She smiled and pulled them off.
He stood in front of her reached around the back of her head and pulled the elastic band out of her hair. Her dirty blonde hair fell across her shoulders.
“There that’s better,” he leaned in and gently kissed her. She raised up on her toes and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into her.
He ran his hands down her sides, and grabbing her ass. He gave it a squeeze, she opened her mouth and let his tongue slide into her mouth. She sucked on his tongue, he let out a moan.
He stepped back from her and looked her over.
“Very nice indeed,”
And of course we need some villains, otherwise how do we get heroes.
David opened the door, a tall, slender woman with curly dark hair entered the apartment.
“How are you?” David asked her.
“Fine, fine, where is she?” Vanessa asked.
“She’s in the bedroom,”
Vanessa took off her coat, handed it to David and headed down the hall.
“Hello,” Sarah said.
“Stand up, let me see,” Vanessa ordered.
Sarah stood up, Vanessa pulled the belt of the robe, the bathrobe fell open.
“Hum… she’s a little mousy,”
“What?” Sarah started to pull the robe closed. Vanessa grabbed her wrist.
“Drop the robe,”
Sarah looked at her then over at David who was standing in front of the dresser.
David came over to Sarah and pulled the robe off of her.
Vanessa looked her over, putting her hand on her shoulder and turning her around.
“Maybe,” Vanessa said.
“Is she any good?”
“Yes, she is,” David answered.
Shane and Tommy
Shane found his thirst for doing the unspeakable during his young adult life. His first was Heather. She was an adventurous active young woman with an open mind when it came to Shane. She let him tie her up even smack her around a little. Heather enjoyed the tingles of pleasure mixed with the stinging pain.
~ ~ ~ ~
Shane was tall, and skinny with shaggy brown hair. He was a C average student in High School, who managed to graduate despite missing a far amount of school days. His parents Dave and Shelly Henderson were career driven individuals.
Dave Henderson owned a Ford dealership on the outskirts of town. He did ok for himself despite being over stressed. He kept a bottle of Jack in the bottom desk drawer, that came out many days before lunch, along with his two pack a day habit of Winston’s. Shelly was in real estate she loved showing houses and selling people on the American dream. They loved their son, and felt that he was doing fine.
After graduation Dave gave his son a choice, either go to college and live at home or move out and get a job. Shane choose to take a job in a warehouse loading trucks for Everyday Foods. It kept him busy, and gave him enough money to afford his studio apartment, located a few blocks from the warehouse, most days he skateboarded to work. He had an older white Chevy van that he used to move things for people, to make cash on the side.
Shane worked with a guy named Tommy, a stocky, short guy that had a short fuse when frustrated. Of which Shane had witnessed on more than one occasion, during his time working with him.
~ ~ ~ ~
Shane and Tommy entered Samantha’s apartment.
“She’s in the bedroom,” Tommy said pointing down the hallway.
Shane opened the bedroom door, a cat ran past him. He flipped on the overhead light.
The room was a mess, blood splattered across the dresser, her things scattered on the floor and Samantha naked, with her wrists and ankles tied together laying on the bed.
Brian Nelson lit his third cigarette, sitting in his station wagon parked across the street from the WestSide Motel. He read the sign advertising ‘clean rooms and free HBO’ All they need now is hourly rates available.
He laughed to himself as he took a long drag, he flipped open the box of Valentine’s Day candy he had bought for his wife, he took one of the chocolates and tossed it into his mouth. Mmmm…orange cream.
The door to room 14 opened and two people emerged into the chilly night. His wife Jennifer, and her boss Robert they kissed goodbye and got into separate cars.
Brian followed her home, thinking about their marriage, the time spent together building a future. All for her to just throw it away. He wanted to confront her, he wanted to kill her.
The chalkboard read ‘Welcome New and Returning Teachers to Hamilton Elementary’ as he entered the teachers lounge, to attend the teachers mixer. This would be Ned Sneeds fifth year at Hamilton Elementary as the schools gym teacher.
Mr. Holt the principal of Hamilton Elementary was always preaching ‘Community Involvement’ organizing group events and retreats. You know the ones where you sit in a circle on metal folding chairs, and introduce yourself with a ‘Special Name’ like Spectacular Stacy the visual art’s teacher. Ned always had a hard time coming up with anything better than “I am Nice Ned, your physical education teacher,”
Ned made his way over to the beverage station picked up a plastic cup, and poured himself a lemon-lime soda. As he was sipping on his drink, he saw her, she was wearing a simple white summer dress that flattered her hourglass figure, patterned with little blue forget-me-nots, her brunette hair brushing the top of her shoulders. Ned watched as she was introduced around by Mr. Holt.
“This is Miss Leslie English, she comes to us from Madison Elementary, Leslie will be taking over Mr. Jacobs’ 4th grade class this year,”
Ned spent the rest of the evening watching Leslie, his mind drifting off, daydreaming, wondering about what color panties she had on under that dress.
“I am Jade, let me know if you need anything else,”
Kent smiled at her and watched her walk away, he took note of the tattoo showing on her lower back, just above her low cut jeans and below her midriff tee-shirt. Two roses with intertwining stems, highlighted with just a touch of red and green.
“Nice,” he thought to himself.
On her way back around the club Kent decided to strike up a conversation with her. He motioned to her.
“Need anything else?” Jade asked.
“What time do you get off?” Kent asked.
“I get off whenever I want, I clock out at 2 am,” she answered and gave him a devilish smile.
“So 2 am in the parking lot then?” He asked. Jade nodded and walked away.
They ended up at Jade’s studio apartment a few blocks from the club.
Grace’s beer was just past half empty when a voice asked “Would you like another, or something stronger?”
She turned to see an older guy, mid 50’s, in good shape with a little more gray than brown left in his hair asking if she would like another drink.
Grace smiled at him and said “Sure, how about a shot of Jack?”
He ordered two and introduced himself “Sean,”
He put out his hand and she said “Grace, thanks for the drink,” and shook his hand.
“So what do you think of our little town?” Sean asked. Grace gave him a confused look.
“You don’t look as if you’re from around here,” he said.
“True,” she answered.
They chatted about the town and what keeps it running and why people choose to call it home. Typical mundane small talk, Grace ordered another beer.
The alarm clock clicked over to 6 am.
But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.
I don’t care if it hurts
I want to have control…
Filled the room, Susie reached out from under the dark, heavy comforter and smacked the snooze button. She sat up rubbing her eyes, her dark hair a twisted mess from not being able to get to sleep the night before. She stumbled out of bed and made her way to the shower.
“Whose bright idea was it to take a job that starts at the ass crack of dawn,” she mumbled as she turned the water to hot and waited for it to warm up.
~ ~ ~ ~
Susie ran a comb through her hair pulling it back into a ponytail, she brushed her teeth and gargled with some Listerine. She picked up a sheet of paper from her nightstand.
Dress Code for Seaside Shipping & Receiving
Dark Jeans clean with no holes or tears.
Issued collared work shirt, clean, pressed and tucked in.
No logos or advertising on undershirts, hats or jackets.
Long hair must be pulled back, no jewelry of any kind is to be worn.
Steel-toed work boots or shoes.
Susie glanced at herself in the mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. In her new jeans, work shoes and issued tan, short-sleeve work shirt, that nicely covered her black flag t-shirt.
Ethan turned to face the gathering of eagger bodies, he was good looking, tall, had broad shoulders and a nice smile.
“Good morning, we start at 7:30 sharp so don’t be late, It looks as if all of you are in dress code, which is for everyone’s safety, we work at a quick pace to get through all the trucks that are scheduled for the day, some days you will be unloading and other days you will be loading, so pay attention to your daily assignment sheet, which is here,” Ethan pointed to a bulletin board with three columns of papers tacked to it.
“You all are first shift, so you come over here and find your name, listed in alphabetical order by last name, you what’s your name?” Ethan asked looking at Susie.
“Ridge, Susanna,” she answered, giving him a slight smile.
“Ridge, Susanna,” he repeated running his finger down the list.
“Here you are, you are on dock 7 with me, unloading for today, so you find your name and it will tell you what dock and if your loading or unloading, got it, good moving on,”
Susie was getting into her car after picking up her first check when she saw Ethan and a girl that looked familiar, but she couldn’t place at the moment, they were having a discussion just out of earshot.
Susie sat in her car and watched them, the girl had short red hair, one of those pixie cuts and was wearing a light blue sundress with yellow flowers on it. Her arms kept waving up and down as she was talking to Ethan, he didn’t look to amused at whatever she was going on about. When she was done talking he gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek and she got into her car.
Susie cranked the car over and drove to the bank, thinking that she would treat herself to a new Pearl Jam t-shirt at the mall.
~ ~ ~ ~
“So who’s the girl, with the pixy hair?” Susie asked as they wandered through the mall.
“That’s Amber,” he answered.
“And she is your…” she trailed off giving him a look.
“Aaa, wait Amber Jacobson?”
“She was in my lit class junior year, she was one of the ‘Britney, Tiffany, Amber’s’, click, isn’t she a little young for you? Wait how old are you?”
Ethan stopped walking.
“How old do you think I am?” he asked.
“I don’t know, 26 ish.”
“Not quite, I’ll be 22 on Saturday, hence the need for some music, Amber wants to have a party,”
“Well, in that case happy early birthday, can I buy you a frozen yogurt?” Susie asked pointing to TCBY’s.
“Sure, why not,”
From the first time I saw her I knew I had to taste those soft, cherry lips. I watched as she slid the lip gloss wand over her lower lip, how it glistened in the summer sun. She rubbed her lips together, giving a kiss to the air. We were attending summer session at the University. It was a hot, dry summer, and Debbie was fond of wearing white denim shorts with purple flowers printed on them. She wore them rolled up exposing her slender upper thigh, how I longed to touch her smooth, tanned skin. To run my fingers through her long wavy dirty blonde hair, that she kept pulled back in a loose braid. She gathered her things and headed towards class. I followed her, mesmerized by her swaying hips and the click clack of her sandals against the pavement. My obsession now had a purpose, to kiss Debbie Stevens before summer’s end.
Tony and Charlie
“Keys? I need my keys,” Tony circled around his studio apartment searching for his keys.
“There they are,” he pulled them out of the pocket of his discarded cargo shorts from the previous night. Tony had just finished college earning a degree in creative writing and English literature. His goals were to write a screenplay, a novel and find a girlfriend. But right now he had to be a delivery driver for Mario’s Pizzas. He didn’t mind the job, hourly wage plus tips, granted some nights the tips just sucked.
Tony pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. You had your grocery store on the north side, the liquor store in the middle, a dollar store and Mario’s Pizza on the south side. He got out of his Jeep taking in the warm summer breeze as he headed into work.
“Hey, Charlie, how’s it going?” Tony said as he entered Mario’s Pizza.
“Fine, been slow today,” I answered as I wiped down the tabes getting ready for the evening rush.
“Hey, do you know Debbie Stevens?” I asked.
John, Margaret and Hannah
It was a cloudy but warm day in early May when there was a knock on Margaret’s door.
“Hey John, are you here to pick up the chairs?”
“Yeah, Hannah wants to have a BBQ on Saturday, she always invites more people than we have chairs,”
Margaret smiled and let him in.
“They are out back in the garage,” Margaret led John through the house, into the kitchen and out to the garage.
“There in here somewhere,” she said as she opened the side door and flipped on the light.
The bare light bulb dimly lit the dusty, cluttered garage. John moved past Margaret, briefly brushing against her bare arm.
John started moving boxes.
“Here they are,” he said pulling out one of the folding chairs and handing it to Margaret.
She set it up against the garage door, and returned to take another chair from him. As he handed her the last folding chair his hand brushed against hers.
“That looks like all of them,” he said, he stood in front of her, he moved his hand to the side of her head and wiped away a cobweb.
He smiled at her.
“You know, Meg, can I call you Meg?”
“Considering that you just did, I guess so,”
“Well Meg, I’ve been thinking about you since the office party,” he ran his hand along her bare arm and looked into her eyes.
“Really?” she moved closer to him as his arm moved around her waist.
“Really,” he said almost in a hush, his lips brushing against her cheek.
He gave her a sideways look.
“You know those jeans you were wearing at the office party?”
Meg nodded her head and smiled.
“I wanted to run my hands down your back and grab your ass in those jeans, seriously those jeans have haunted my dreams,”
~ ~ ~ ~
John turned over and wrapped his arms around Meg, kissing the back of her neck. She let out a moan and squeezed his arms.
“I don’t want to leave,”
“I don’t want you to leave, except…Hannah,” Meg sighed and sat up, reaching for a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. She lit one and took a deep drag. John sat up behind her and took the cigarette from her fingers, taking a drag and handing it back to her.
“Do you mind if I take a shower? Hannah is a bit of a bloodhound,”
“Go ahead, just don’t use the French Vanilla and Lavender soap,” she smiled at him.
“Ahh, so that’s what that scent was,” he got up kissing her on the forehead on his way to the bathroom.
~ ~ ~ ~
John carried the folding chairs into the house and sat them in the spare bedroom.
“Is that you John?” Hannah asked from the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s me,”
He went into the kitchen, where Hannah was fixing dinner. He kissed her on the cheek, she gave him a look.
“Oh my God, Hannah, yes, I had one of Greg’s cigarettes with him at work after we cleaned out the back of the warehouse, it was a long day of cleaning out the old stock, it was messy and exhausting, so yes, I had one,”
“Fine, dinner is almost ready, did you pick the extra chairs for Saturday?”
“Yes, they are in the spare room,”