Weekend Writing Warrors

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors! This is one of several successors to Six Sentence Sunday. I also post it as part of Snippet Sunday:

As mentioned before, I have a new release coming out around April 30th called Purely Relative (The P.U.R.E., #1.5). Weekly eights from that story between now and release date!

Over the last few weeks, I’ve shared Gayle’s angst prepping to meet Jon’s family for a Thanksgiving meal. Last week we read about her initial impressions upon arrival, including a not so nice remark she overheard. This week, everyone has finally settled down at the table for the meal. To give context for a few of the names and references in the snippet: Scott is Jon’s sister’s fiance, who has already pinged Gayle’s skeeve radar. Sophia is Jon’s ex-fiancee’s mother. Jon currently works for the FBI, though his family does not know. Got all that?

Scott insisted on delivering a long-winded prayer itemizing all we were thankful for, including friends, family, and new acquaintances. I peeped at him through my eyelashes and caught him watching me as he spoke. We repeated, “Amen” and started passing around the dishes.

All the food moved in a clockwise fashion, I discovered, when the corn I attempted to pass counter-clockwise smashed into the gravy boat Sophia held. The viscous sauce sloshed over the edge and onto her hand, then to the tablecloth. A large tan Rorschach blot took shape. It looked like an uncircumcised penis or the Washington Monument, one or the other. What did that say about me other than I was a G-man’s klutzy nympho?

Heh-heh. Altogether now: “Poor Gayle”.

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors! This is one of several successors to Six Sentence Sunday. I also post it as part of Snippet Sunday:

As mentioned before, I have a new release coming out around April 30th called Purely Relative (The P.U.R.E., #1.5). Weekly eights from that story between now and release date!

Last time, I shared some of Gayle’s angst prepping to meet Jon’s family for a Thanksgiving meal. This week, Gayle and Jon have arrived at his parents’ mansion (she was expecting something a little more modest). Amongst her first observations are the plethora of photographs of Jon and the fiancee he broke up with before he started dating Gayle. Jon and his ex practically grew up together because their mothers did so in their native Italy and immigrated together to the US. Those shoes Gayle has stepped into are pretty large and daunting.

I couldn’t be upset with Jon. He was trying, but he had no sway over what his parents chose to display in their own home. I had no right to expect them to sweep a lifelong family friendship under the rug—or coffee table—at a moment’s notice.

We moved toward the back of the house. As we left the living room en route to the dining room, voices wafted in from the adjoining kitchen.

“…let him get her out of his system and all will end well,” came a heavily accented woman’s voice.

I glanced at Jon, who flushed up his neck and onto his cheeks. He gave a loud cough then yelled, “Hello, we’re here!”

Heh-heh…poor Gayle. A recurring theme in this one.