Sunday Snippet: All Jacked Up

This past week I got to experience my daughter's first "senior night", this one for golf. She's my youngest and the last one we need to get through high school. Which is actually funny because she's also the most organized of my three kiddos and we haven't had to do much to get her through anything. Okay, except to maybe open the checkbook or whip out the debit card.

Anyway, the golf team had a scramble with another county team and the girls had a great time. This is a little poignant for three of the four seniors because they're all four-year letterman and they literally launched the girls' golf team for the high school. My daughter and one of her friends were the true masterminds, getting another freshman and two sophomores interested so they could form a team. There had to be at least four girls and they had five so they were good to go. In the four years they've had a team, the roster grew to eight, dropped to seven, then went back up to eight again this year. It's been exciting to watch the group grow and change and support each other.

Next up, is senior night for band and that's next weekend. I'm hoping for a non-rainy football game. This past week, the game got delayed due to lightning. Fun times.

Had a busy week overall with work but did get some television viewing in. I kept up with more episodes of Peter Gunn. I'm almost through the second season.

Also got some Classic Who in with The Mind Robber, The Invasion, and The Kroton multi-part episodes. I think I'm through the mixed episodes that are part animation and part regularly shot scenes.

I also watched three more Midsomer Murders episodes. I'm in series seventeen so I have about three more series to finish up.

That's pretty much it for television this week. Tonight's post is from All Jacked Up, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Lita North is injured and ordered to stay off her feet for forty-eight hours which doesn't go over well because Lita doesn't do inactivity. But when Ollie Tulver gets stuck babysitting her after she disobeys the order, she has two choices—continue being a pain in the ass or toe the line. Lita being Lita, she decides to do both.

And a sneaky peek…

Lita had one section of the bulkhead painted before lunch. "Amazing how fast this goes when you're on wheels." The roller brush zoomed along the metal partition.

She set the brush crossways on the paint tray then grabbed the roll of tape. This part gave her a few fits but she only cheated by standing up twice. Thankfully, her butt rested squarely in the chair when the sound of the hatch key code blipped behind her.

She maneuvered the wheels around so she faced the entry. Oliver poked his head in then led with a tray of food. After placing it on the low table by the couch, he went back and retrieved her crutches.

Handing them over, he lifted his chin. "You made a fair amount of progress."

She hobbled toward the head. "Yeah. And I hate to break it to you but this won't take more than half the day to finish up." The look on his face almost made her laugh.

The poor guy… he'd have to find something else to occupy her time.

Shit. "It's gotta suck being my friend right now." Babysitting duty… didn't get much worse than that.

Lita finished up and washed her hands, taking time to scrub the stray paint smears off. She might as well make an effort for Oliver's sake. He only brought one tray, but she'd share the entrée. Least she could do.

She rolled her eyes. "More like I want the company. Especially his." As far as jailers went, Oliver made for great eye candy and could hold up his end of a conversation.

And maybe, just maybe, something deeper hovered between them.

Might be a good time to find out.

She managed to get back out to the main room. "Why the hell do you put up with me?" She propped the death sticks against the unpainted section of the bulkhead and sank down onto the couch.

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a rhetorical question?" He pushed the low table closer to her and whipped the lid off the plate.

The scent of baked pasta tickled her nose. An oversized serving of lasagna smothered in cheese along with a side salad, a crusty roll, and fruit cup took up all the space on the tray. Her stomach rumbled and she sighed happily.

She glanced up. "No, it's not rhetorical. You get stuck with babysitting detail yet you bring my favorite meal… If our positions were reversed, I'd be tempted to bring you a sandwich, an apple, and maybe those saltine crackers in the little packets not ply you with something you actually enjoy." Picking her fork up, she cut a hunk of lasagna off to cool it down.

Oliver laughed. "No, you wouldn't. You'd feel sorry for me and bring exactly what I brought you." He held up a finger. "In fact, wait here… pun intended." He ducked out and returned with another tray. "Hope you don't mind some company."

Lita shook her head. "I don't." She took a bite of her lunch and chewed for a moment.

Oliver felt sorry for her? The idea stung a little. Then again, might help if she just asked.

She waited until he got settled on the chair perpendicular to the sofa. "Am I just a pity project to you?" Stabbing another forkful, she met his gaze.  

So much relied on his answer.

Lita is a holy terror but she's also got a soft, gooey center she doesn't like to show anyone. Ollie just might get to finally see it after he answers her question.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye