Monthly Archives: June 2020

June 26, 2020

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in  20   minutes. No time for typos.

After Elizabeth’s revelations about the fate of the Lewis brothers, she closed up and Jason knew he wouldn’t get any more answers, so he left the ranch and headed back to town. Instead of going to the boarding house where he was staying, he rode towards the older part of town, where the founders’ families lived.

Where his grandmother still lived in the elegant home his grandfather had built when Diamond Springs had been little more than a boom town in 1850. Edward Quartermaine had uprooted his entire family to travel west, taking the fortune he’d made in property and commerce in New York City.

The Quartermaines had come west with the Hardys, the Webbers, Lewises, and Joneses. Jason had traveled with them, no more than three years old, the illegitimate grandson that Edward had refused to leave behind when his mother, Susan, had died in childbirth.

The Quartermaines had built the town, but had declined over the last decade as men died and women left to find better options in San Francisco or Sacremento. Now, only Jason and his grandmother were left.

Lila beamed at him as he strode into her little parlor. “Darling! I have been longing to see you.” She extended her hand and Jason bowed over it, an old habit from his youth when she’d been missing the England and ballrooms of her youth.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by very much,” he told her.

“You could solve that if you lived in your old rooms,” Lila said with a sly smile. “You’d have the run of the house—”

Jason hid his grimace, but shook his head. “I like the boarding house for now. It’s closer to the jail.”

Lila pursed her lips, then nodded. “All right. We’ll discuss it at another time.” She patted his hand. “It’s rather late for a visit, dearest. Have you a reason for coming by?”

Jason hesitated. His grandmother was a wonderful woman, but she was strict about manners and propriety. He couldn’t simply ask her what had happened to Elizabeth Webber five years ago, when she’d stopped writing—but maybe he could work around to it.

“I was told today that the Lewis brothers both died,” Jason said hesitantly. “I was surprised by that—they were young. I was hoping you might tell me what happened.”

Lila frowned slightly with a bit of a gimlet eye—as if she knew exactly why he was asking. “The Lewis brothers? Alexander and Peter? Why, I haven’t given them a single thought in years.” Her voice shook slightly, and he heard the lie.

“Interesting.” Jason raised a brow. “Because I would think a murder-suicide would be memorable.”

Lila pursed her lips, drew back her hands. “Well, if you already know the gory details, my dear, then why are you asking me?”

“Because you never mentioned it,” Jason told her. “You wrote about everything—but not this. And I wanted to know why.”

“This is about that Webber girl,” Lila said, her voice tight. “You were hoping to marry her when you came home. But you never came home—”

“Because you wrote to tell me she was married. I always thought she’d married one of the brothers.” And it had torn at him—Jason had refused to touch the inheritance from his grandfather or father, but the Lewis brothers didn’t have that problem. He’d wondered if Elizabeth had married for the money.

“Well, by the time she married, there was only one Lewis left,” Lila said sharply. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. She was a lovely girl, but I couldn’t abide being connected to that family. That Jeffrey Webber was a terrible person—”

“Grandmother, Elizabeth and I wrote to each other for two years—and her father arranged to keep all of our letters from reaching us.”

Lila’s nostrils flared as she reared back. “That reprobate! How dare he! You are a Quartermaine! He should be so lucky!” She twisted her hands in her lap. “How dare he,” she muttered. “If your grandfather were still with us—”

“Do you know what happened to Cameron’s sons?” Jason asked gently. “And why is Elizabeth at the Lazy W when she should be here, in town? In the Lewis house?”

“The Lewis house was sold after the incident,” Lila said. “She and Cameron made their home on the ranch. There was no—” She sighed. “There was no money. Alexander gambled away his share, and Peter had made a terrible investment—between the two of them, it was all Cameron could do to settle their debts. Then—” Lila twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “Alexander and Peter insisted that they were being tricked—that they’d been tricked out of their money, but they argued with each other, and—well, no one knows for sure what caused it. But it was over the loss of the money, we’re sure of it.”

Jason sat back. “So…Elizabeth’s marriage had nothing to do with them?” he asked, skeptically.

“Well, I don’t know about any of that. I know that Jeffrey Webber was hoping she would agree to marry that awful banker,” Lila said with a sniff. She didn’t trust anyone who handled money for a living. “But she never did. She and Alexander were always friends as children—you know that. I suppose we thought they might marry, but then the tragedy—” Lila smiled thinly at him. “Does it matter now, dearest?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. He was looking for a reason Elizabeth had stopped writing him, why her letters seemed to be such a secret — but maybe it wasn’t that difficult to understand.

She’d written more than a hundred letters to a man who’d never answered them. Why would anyone keep writing?

Jason frowned, looked at Lila. “Wait, Alexander and Peter claimed someone was tricking them?”

“That was the rumor, but I don’t pay much attention to those. It was probably their pride—”

“Maybe.” But Jason couldn’t get the thought out of his head that Elizabeth had stopped writing him, might have married Alexander Lewis—and then Alexander and Peter were broke, without money.

And Ric Lansing was a banker who was still bothering Elizabeth now, seven years after she’d rejected his proposal of marriage on her seventeenth birthday.

June 25, 2020

Your Update Links: Whatever It Takes, Part 5 and Darkest Before the Dawn, Part 1

Hey! You’re not blind — that’s a new Flash Fiction series I’m starting today. I was, in no way, planning to do this, LOL. But then Tania asked me to rewrite a story from 2016 yesterday, and my brain basically exploded. I couldn’t imagine waiting another month before one of my current series were done, so I’m going to update this new one Sundays and then pick a random day throughout the week to double up.

I’m really excited about this — it’s set in 2012 and is basically — what happens if Steve Burton doesn’t leave? Because we know that his leaving wasn’t planned and they had to cut a ton of story and rewrite things to make it happen.  I’m going to write this in three parts — each part rewrites a terrible Elizabeth story from 2012-2017, but it’s all set as if Jason doesn’t reunite with Sam and go off the pier.

In other news, I’m working on the Bittersweet subsite. I created the images and cover today, and started on the ebook. I suspect it should be done on Sunday. I hope you enjoy the new updates and I’ll see you guys tomorrow for another double update.

This entry is part 1 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

This begins in 2012, near the end of the water poisoning crisis after Jason has saved Elizabeth from Ewan. Thanks to Tania for inspiring this particular idea.

Written in 21  minutes. No time for edits or typo checks.

Elizabeth Webber felt a hundred years old as she stepped up to the porch to unlock her front door. Behind her, she could hear the booted footsteps of Jason Morgan who had driven her home from the hospital.

In the last twenty-four hours, she’d been kidnapped by her most recent romantic mistake, then rescued by her ex-fiancee, and then, somehow, the city had been saved when the antidote to the poison in their water system had been located. She and Jason were still slightly damp from the rain that had finally given them a sense of relief at the end of it.

It had been a hell of a couple days, she thought dryly as she slid her key into the lock. She turned back to Jason. “I’m pretty sure I have a frozen pizza in the kitchen. I want to call Gram and the boys in Disney World one more time, but if you want to stay—”

“Sure,” Jason said, with his own tired smile. He likely hadn’t slept much in the last week either—it usually took him three days of running on empty before he looked this tired, she mused, as they went inside and Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the living room.

“You know what?” she said, stopping abruptly. Jason bumped into her, putting his hands at her waist for just a moment to steady them both. “I’m done.”

“Done?” he repeated.

“Done.” Elizabeth nodded. “I just kidnapped by the first guy I’ve dated since I almost dated Matt Hunter. And then he turned out to be a murderer. And before that—”

She scowled. Best not to think about about what had been before her brief flirtation with Patrick’s younger brother who was now in prison for killing Lisa Niles.

“Okay,” Jason drawled. He stepped around her to pick up a photo that had fallen from her table. He set it back in its place. “So you’re done.”

“I have the worst taste in men—present company excluded, mostly—” She added as an afterthought. She wandered into the kitchen. “Zander. Nikolas. Lucky. Matt. Ewan. Ric. Am I leaving anyone out?” she tossed over her shoulder as she pulled out the pizza from the freezer and flicked the oven on to preheat.

“Uh…” Jason slid his hands into his pockets and furrowed his brow at her, as if actually thinking it over. “I don’t know. I think that’s it.”

She pursed her lips, not sure if he was teasing her or not. “Hmph. Anyway, that’s a terrible list, and you—” Elizabeth stabbed a finger at hime. “Are the best of a bad bunch, and let me tell you, you’re not a shining star either.”

“No arguments there,” he muttered. “Elizabeth—”

“Anyway. I’m going to raise my boys, go to work, and keep Patrick out of trouble. That’s it. That’s all I want to do for the next twenty years. Maybe—just maybe—I’ll be in the mood to find someone to die with.”

Jason raised his brows. “You’re planning to die at the age of fifty-three?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Listen—”

“Elizabeth—”

“Never mind.” She reached into her fridge and handed him a bottle of the Rolling Rock she’d bought on a whim a few weeks earlier. Jason had been stopping by more and more, and she’d just grabbed it the last time she’d been in the store. She opened her own bottle. “I’ll talk to Brad tomorrow,” she said.

Jason sighed and sat on a stool at the island. “You think I’m wrong?”

“I think,” Elizabeth said, slowly, “that you’re feeling guilty about everything that’s happened in the last year.” She offered him a faint smile. “I know you think it was your fault—”

“If I’m right, and Tea Delgado’s son was switched with Sam’s,” Jason said, “then it was my fault. Sam was only at the motel because of me.”

Elizabeth sighed and took a pull of the beer. It was hard to argue with him on that score, she knew. Sam had been living apart from Jason because he’d struggled to accept her pregnancy, the result of a rape from Franco, the serial killing psycho Jason had finally killed in January.

“Thank you for not arguing with me.”

“I think that it’s simple to say it was your fault it happened,” Elizabeth corrected. “Yeah, I think you were probably not as accepting as Sam probably deserved—” Jason looked away. “But to say someone kidnapping Sam’s son and replacing it with a dead child is your fault for that is to say it’s Sam’s fault for living in a motel instead of with her mother.”

“Elizabeth—”

“We’ve been over this,” she reminded him. “Just because there’s a possibility Danny might still be alive—it doesn’t mean what happened is one hundred percent on you.”

“But you’re not saying it’s not on me,” Jason replied.

“I—” Elizabeth shrugged, and ignored the question by turning around to slide the pizza into the oven. “Could you have done better with all of it? Sure. But you’re human, Jason. Maybe thing would have been different if Danny had survived.”

“Maybe.” Jason was quiet for a moment.

“You never used to think about this kind of stuff,” she said. Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “Things were what they were, and there was no point in looking back. I used to envy that about you.”

“Yeah, well, then I started to make a lot more mistakes,” Jason muttered.

“Well, hey, then join the club. I am the Queen of Regrets.” She held out her beer and he clinked his bottle with hers. “You can be the King.” Elizabeth wagged her finger at him. “Platonic though. Because I told you, I’m on a twenty year break.”

Jason shook his head, but then smiled. “Yeah, okay, we’ll talk in twenty years.”

——

Brad Cooper was cleaning up the lab in the hospital after a long week of running tests and devloping serums. He was whistling under his breath, thinking of the vodka and popcorn he’d have when he finally got home.

He heard a throat clearing in the doorway, and he turned to see Tracy Quartermaine in the doorway. “Ms. Quartermaine.” Brad snapped to attention, bu frowned. He didn’t think he’d ever seen this member of the family in the lab. “Did you need something?”

“Someone is going to ask you run a test tomorrow,” Tracy said with an arch of her brow. “I’ll make it worth your while if you do it my way.”

This entry is part 5 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20  minutes. No time for typos.

It was late when Justus finally left them alone in the penthouse that night and Jason didn’t really know what do once he was alone with his wife.

When he’d gotten the news that Tommy Graviano, their explosives guy, had been pulled out of the harbor with a broken neck no more than six hours after telling Jason that Carly Corinthos had been the one to pick up a device the day before the bomb —

Jason knew the danger wasn’t over. He’d always assumed he was the target — it hadn’t occured to him that Sonny or Carly would give a damn about Elizabeth or their daughter with Jason out of the picture — it was Jason that was the threat. He’d simply left, knowing that leaving Elizabeth completely in the dark would give her the best chance.

For six months, he’d kept moving forward, kept moving, kept the focus on him and he’d hadn’t thought far enough ahead to contemplate telling Elizabeth the truth.

With Justus gone, Elizabeth had gone upstairs to take a shower while Jason had remained in the penthouse, thinking over what they knew, who they might be able to trust—

“Why would Sonny or Carly want you dead?”

He blinked, turning at the desk to find Elizabeth at the bottom of the stairs, her hair slicked back from her head, her face still tired and pale. She was wearing only socks which explained why he hadn’t heard her on the stairs.

“What?” he asked, roughly, drinking her in. She’d always been slender, but she’d lost even more weight, and he found himself worried about her. He’d thought Steven would take care of her, but—

“Sonny and Carly.” Elizabeth sat on the sofa, curling her legs up in front of her. “I always understood why I would be targeted. Sonny didn’t want you to get married, and Carly was always jealous of the time you spent with me. But—”

“I think…” Jason pressed his lips together, looked back at the paperwork on his desk, the papers he’d been dragging around the world. “I think one of them found out I was talking to Robert.”

“Robert,” Elizabeth repeated. “Robert Scorpio—why—” She faltered. “Jason, why were you talking to a WSB agent? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know if—” Jason scrubbed his hands over his face. “Because I didn’t know if it would work out. I didn’t know if Robert could get a deal, or if I could go through with it. And I didn’t want to get your hopes up—”

“A deal.” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “You were going to flip on Sonny?”

“I—” Jason dipped his head, then got to his feet. He couldn’t stand sitting down, being still right now. “I was thinking about it. With Lily—” He swallowed. “I wanted something else. I didn’t care when it was just me, and I know you said you were okay, but I didn’t want her in danger.”

She just stared at him. “How could you keep this from me?”

“Because I didn’t—it didn’t get that far.” But he fumbled on this because he didn’t have a good reason. He should have told her. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how it got started. After Michael nearly got killed—”

An inch of difference, and Michael would have been shot in the head.

“Robert came to me. He said that he could pull some strings—I told him no at first, but I kept thinking about Lily, about you—”

“I don’t know if I would have done it,” Jason repeated. “But for Sonny, considering it would have been enough.” He met her eyes. “I never thought he’d go after you. I never considered Carly. But you’re right, if Carly was involved—Sonny had to be.”

“How else would she have known where to go?” Elizabeth said softly, finishing the thought. “I never—” She sighed. “I never suspected her. She was kind to me when we lost Lily, and she was so angry when you left. Are you sure? Are you sure that Sonny didn’t frame her?”

“I—” Jason shook his head. “No.”

“Because you know they were never the same after Sonny had that last affair. She forgave Brenda because, you know, Sonny had a history with Brenda, but Sam—” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her temple. “I don’t know, Jason. She hated Sonny. They were only together because of Michael. I can’t see it.”

“Someone didn’t like that Tommy talked,” Jason reminded her. “And someone shot me in Cairo.” And had tried to blow him up in Istanbul, but that could wait.

“I guess we’re not much better than we were six months ago,” she said faintly. “Except now Carly’s dead, my brother is gone, and Sonny isn’t talking to anyone.”

She paused. “Ric won’t talk to you, Jason, but you know—”

“Don’t—”

“He’ll talk to me.”

Jason shook his head. “No—”

“He’ll talk to me,” Elizabeth repeated. She got to her feet and crossed her arms. “And you don’t have the right to stop me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Because it doesn’t matter that you were trying to protect me when you left,” Elizabeth said. She strode forward, took his hand, then shoved her rings into his hand. “You left. And we’ll be divorced in two weeks. Nothing has changed my mind about that.”

He stared down at the jewelry in his hands, then met her eyes and swallowed. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I want you to talk to Ric Lansing.”

“I’m the only one who can get in to see him,” she insisted. “He won’t talk to you. He hates you—”

“Because he never—” Jason bit off, irritated with himself.

“Because he never forgave me for leaving him and marrying you.”

June 24, 2020

Your Update Link: Desperate Measures, Part 5

I honestly wasn’t going to write today, but then I got a great story idea from Tania (Thank you again!) and it just made me want to write it. I might be adding a Flash Fiction on Sunday after all because I don’t want to wait. The idea just made me want to write, so here you go! I’ll see you tomorrow for Whatever It Takes.

This entry is part 5 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in  20  minutes. No time for edits.

Cameron stared at Jason’s profile, then swallowed hard. “W-hat? No. That’s not—”

“Damn it,” Jason muttered. He flicked his eyes at the teen, then back at the road. “How—this doesn’t makes sense.”

He thought back to his conversation with Elizabeth, with the wildness in her eyes, the desperation—

Had she stabbed Franco? Then why had she sent the boys away? For their safety? Why hadn’t she just told him she’d done it—

“It doesn’t make sense,” he repeated. “Your mother wanted me get you out of the country. She said it was her fault. She wasn’t lying then. It was just us and Diane.” He shook his head. “She couldn’t have killed him.”

He frowned. “You said Jake and Aiden were tied up. That Aiden had gotten free and called 911. When did Jake call me? The timeline doesn’t make sense—”

“I don’t—” Cameron exhaled slowly. “I didn’t know they were tied up at first. They were already free when we were getting in the car. Jake was trying to call you when Mom was putting us in the car.” He furrowed his brow. “His phone slipped when he was getting in the car. It broke.”

“When did you found out the boys had seen Franco? That he’d tied them up?”

“After you’d called. When we were waiting for you to show up.” Cameron scrubbed his heads over his face. “Jake told me. Aiden learned how to tie knots in Boy Scouts—”

“If Jake called me as you were leaving—the police were already on their way. And Franco wasn’t in the kitchen then. You’re sure he was upstairs in the bedroom?”

“Mom must have—he must have been downstairs when she—” Cameron squeezed his eyes shut. “I wanted her to come with me. I was scared he wasn’t dead, but she told me to go. And I had to protect them.”

“Cameron, I’m not blaming you—but if you didn’t stab him—and I don’t think your mother did—” Jason grimaced. “Who could have done it?”

“It had to be Mom. He probably tried to attack her again. Maybe she just blocked it out. After everything she’s been through. You know, with that guy, Baker?” Cameron cracked his knuckles, then rubbed them, restlessly. “It probably brought it all back. I mean, he stalked her just like, two years ago—”

“What?” Jason snapped. “Tom Baker’s out of prison?” He swore. “Damn it. 2016,” he muttered. “Ten years. She told me it would be another ten years—”

“He’s dead. His brother killed him, but it was rough on Mom for a while. That’s when she told me who he was.” Cameron looked out the passenger window. “Wish you’d been here. Drew was crap. But he was pretty terrible after he found out he was supposed to be you. I liked Jake Doe better.”

“Cameron—”

“It must have been Mom,” Cameron repeated. “She was probably just worried that PCPD would try to go after me, too. For, like, running or something.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out when we get back into town.”

“It’s Franco,” Cameron muttered. “Everyone wanted him dead at some point. Wouldn’t it be harder to figure out who didn’t have a motive?”

“Yeah.” Jason flicked the turn signal for the ramp up to the highway. “I’ll take care of it, Cameron.”

“If Mom killed him, he deserved it. And you better get her out of the country if they try to put her in jail,” Cameron said fiercely.

“It won’t come to that—”

“Jason—”

“But yeah, I’m not letting her go to jail for it. Not when I should have done it six years ago,” he muttered.

——

Framing Elizabeth for Franco’s murder hadn’t been the plan, but once in a while, an opportunity dropped into a person’s lap and it would be silly not to take advantage of it.

In a room somewhere in Port Charles, a woman carefully washed the blood from her hands and looked at her face in the mirror, at the tired eyes and scratch on her cheek.

She’d left town to find herself, and decided that she’d spent a lot of time letting people get away with hurting her. She’d forgotten who she used to be—

She’d left town when her supposedly beloved husband had begun to warm up to Franco, when he’d seen some good in him—

Well, fuck that.

She’d spent too many years letting that man breathe the air.

Sam Cain raised her eyes to the mirror again and let her lips curve into a smile. It had been a bonus to finally get her revenge on Elizabeth for stealing Jason away from her all those years ago, for lying about Danny and lying about Jake Doe. Elizabeth deserved whatever happened to her.

And it went without saying it was about time that Franco paid for his sins.

Another postponed Flash Fiction — sorry about that! I found out last night that I didn’t get the high school job, and this morning, got the double whammy of not getting the middle school job. This means I need to kind of regroup. I spent most of the morning checking other districts and making other applications as well as looking over my budget to make any cuts necessary to get through September. With COVID, I might not be working much in September, and bills still need to be paid.

With that in mind, I updated the Support page with some new options — you can also find a menu on the side with new donation links for Paypal and Venmo (@melissasmchugh). All work on Crimson Glass remains free but if you can toss me a buck or two, I can hopefully keep from crawling back to my night-time tutoring job during the school year and spend my evenings writing. For the Broken Girl was only written and released in seven months because I was able to teach all day and come home to write. Any one-time donation will earn you the opportunity to suggest an idea for an upcoming story or a flash fiction.

Flash Fiction will be back tomorrow annd I’ll be making double updates on Thursday and Friday to get back on schedule. I just wanted to make sure I was able to write Mad World today.

And because I do feel terrible about missing two days this week, I went through my draft for Mad World to find some Liason fluff that was spoiler free. Enjoy this scene of Liason on their honeymoon, picking baby names.

This is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of Mad World, and it’s basically spoiler free. Enjoy some sweet fluff from Liason on their honeymoon. This is has not been checked for spelling or typos.

Elizabeth set down a pair of books on the sofa, then lowered herself down next to Jason. “Okay, if everything goes to plan, in about a month, we’ll have a baby.”

Jason frowned at her, put aside his travel book. “Uh, yeah, that is the plan—”

“This baby will need a name.” She picked up a book, Names Through the Ages. “We can start here. I brought the books, you go find some paper and something to write with. I’ll tell you all the names I like, and then we can narrow it down there from there.”

Jason grinned, reached over to tug down the edge of the book. “We’re not seriously going to go through every page of this, are we?”

“Listen, it’s the middle of winter in upstate New York, we can’t go a lot of places, and I can only manage sex once a day,” Elizabeth told him with mock seriousness. “We can talk about baby names or you can have sex. But choose wisely.”

“Well—” He made a show of looking at the clock on the wall. “It’s only about nine in the morning. Seems a little early if I only get to have sex once.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sheopened the book again. “Now, the reason I made Emily get this book is because it had all kinds old names—”

“Elizabeth—”

“This is the name our kid is going to have the rest of his life—” She pretended to glare at him. “If you tell me names don’t matter, we’re gonna have our first fight.”

“Well, I know how much you like your middle name,” Jason said, reaching for the other book. “We’re naming our first daughter after you. Imogen Morgan.”

“Don’t even joke about that—” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “My parents just wanted to make sure Great-Grandma Imogen Martin wouldn’t leave them out of the will. They tried to suck up at the end.”

“Did it work?”

“Nope. Which does, in hindsight, make me happy. But don’t distract me. We’re not doing daughters yet.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Boys.”

“These are all fine—”

“Jason Morgan—”

“I mean, what’s the difference between Brian and Mark?” Jason asked. “Is there one?”

“Brian was in a kid in my first grade class who tripped me. That’s why I have that scar on my knee.”

Jason nodded sagely. “Of course. That makes sense. Mark?”

“Sarah had a ridiculous crush on Marky Mark and I’d never be able to look our kid without thinking about it.” She snickered when Jason just stared at her with confusion. “Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch? Oh man, you know, you’re lucky. Anyway. Brian and Mark are out. So are…” She ran her fingers down a list. “Michael, Jeffrey, Alan, Edward—”

“Yeah, we only need one Edward,” Jason agreed.

“And it has to sound right with the rest of his name, okay? Because I have a middle name picked out.” She flipped a page. “Ooh, Scottish names.”

“What about…” He frowned. “Kevin—no. He was my doctor after the accident. And Carly’s.”

“See, that’s what I mean—”

“You did this to me,” he told her. “I never would have thought about it—”

“Right, until the day, we had baby Kevin in the park and ran into Kevin or something, and then he’d be like, whoa, weird, you named your kid after me—” Elizabeth shook her head. “Nope. I am not setting my son up for failure.”

“This seems more complicated than it needs to be.” Jason sighed, but now looked more closely at the book in front of him.

Elizabeth grinned at him, pleased. “This is why I love you.”

Jason looked at her, arching a brow. “Because I let you talk me into being ridiculous?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Because you don’t mind when I talk circles around you, and drag you into my silliness—”

“I just like seeing you like this,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her. “Happy.”

“Me, too.” She sighed against his lips and let the book fall to the ground. Jason wrapped his arm around her waist and lowered her onto her back. “You know, today is a good day,” she murmured. “Maybe we can manage it twice.”

“Well…” Jason raised his head to meet her eyes, still dancing with laughter. “You could just lay back and let me do all the work.”

“You have the best ideas.”

June 23, 2020

Your Update Link – An Everlasting Love, Part 5

Thanks for your patience and understanding yesterday about skipping Flash Fiction. I actually didn’t write anything at all yesterday, even Mad World. I’d been stressing about this particular job for over a week (my first interview was Wednesday, the second yesterday), and didn’t realize just how much stress and anxiety I was carrying until it was done. I came home afterwards and just basically vegged. I read three and a half Deanna Raybourne novels (the Julia Grey novels which are incredible), and I want to get back to her Veronica Speedwell series I had started.  It’s been a while since I took a day just for reading, and it was great.

Now I just have to wait to hear back. This is the same district where I had the ELA interview a few weeks ago, so I’m in the running for two positions. This most recent one — this is the dream job with the dream grade at my own high school.

With that out of the way, I’m eager to get back into my schedule. I’m thinking I might have some stamina issues with Mad World — I was hoping to start hitting 5k days this week, but I’m really tired today and didn’t write yesterday. I’m going to go back to making sure I’m writing 2-3k this week, and working on 5k next week.

I fixed the spacing on the Mad World, Book 2 ebook. The paragraphs were all smooshed together on my Nook, and I didn’t realize it. The new copies have been uploaded.

The next story to get the makeover will be Bittersweet. I’m not touching the story itself — the content is going to stay the same but it will get a new layout, an ebook, and I’ll set up a second to get ready for the sequel when I finally write it in, like, two years, LOL.

I’ll be sure to let you guys know if/when I get news about the job.

This entry is part 5 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 22 minutes. No time for edits.

It was nearly sunset when Jason was able to take the letters out to the Lazy W. He’d packed them carefully into his saddlebags, wishing he’d found a way to handle all of this without bringing Elizabeth more pain.

It was an unsettling sensation to switch off the last five years of resentment he’d felt towards Elizabeth. He’d stopped writing her after his telegrams had gone unanswered, but the letter from his grandmother a year later with its single off hand mention of the Webber girl marrying into the Lewis family had changed things. He’d wondered at first if maybe she’d just lost interest or if he’d imagined how they felt about each other—

But to know that Elizabeth had married into the Lewis family, one of the most respectiable—and wealthiest in Diamond Springs—he’d started to think that maybe she’d wanted something better than a guy who’d needed to leave town to make his money.

He’d never dreamed she’d married the head of the family—the much older Cameron Lewis. He’d expected Alexander or Peter, Cameron’s sons. He’d known them growing up, and Elizabeth had always been the prettiest girl in town. He wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them had used Jason’s absence to court her.

He wondered where those sons were now, and why they weren’t helping her with their youngest brother. Why Elizabeth appeared to be struggling to make ends meet on her family’s ranch when the Lewises had once had more wealth.

Jason suspected the answer to all these mysteries were hidden somewhere in her letters—and now the resentment he’d once felt had been replaced by concern. Worry.

Something had happened to drive Elizabeth away five years ago-to make her stop writing him. Something had destroyed the Lewis family’s wealth.

He just didn’t know how to find any of that out without hurting Elizabeth.

As Jason rode up the drive towards the ranch home, he furrowed his brow at the gray horse hitched up out front of the house. He’d seen Elizabeth’s small collection of horse on his He previous visit—this wasn’t one of hers.

Jason had no sooner tied up his own horse than the door opened and the owner of mystery house revealed himself as Ric Lansing stalked out of the front door, the porch door slapping against the wall of the house.

“I am out of patience, Elizabeth,” Ric snapped, all the charm and swagger Jason expected from the older man, absent. “You either agree now or—” He sputtered to a stop as Jason stepped out from behind his horse and tipped the hat back on his head.

“Is there a problem here?” Jason asked, flatly.

Still inside the house, Elizabeth stood at the threshold of the door. He couldn’t quite see her face clearly behind the mesh screen. She didn’t move. Didn’t open the door.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Ric snarled. He threw another glare at Elizabeth before stalking down the steps and roughly untying his horse. He mounted and took off down the drive at a gallop.

When Ric had passed under the arch entrace of the ranch, Elizabeth finally pushed open the door and stepped outside, her face pale but her expression carefully blank. “Did you bring them?”

“Yeah. Elizabeth—”

“Leave them on the porch.” Then she went back inside, the door slapping shut.

Jason ignored that direction. He grabbed his saddlebags and, cautiously, pulled the door open to step inside her foyer.

The house looked the same as it had when he’d last been in it—the week before her elder brother, Steven, had died from an infection. The wallpaper was a bit thinner, some of the furniture in the parlor had faded, but it looked familiar.

Elizabeth was standing in front of the mantel, holding herself tightly. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned to look at him. “I didn’t ask you in.”

“No, you didn’t. But I was worried some of the letters might get taken by the wind.” Jason flipped open the saddle back and started to take out the letters. There were a few stacks of them, bundled together with twine.

Her lips were thin, nearly white as she watched him. “I’d forgotten how many…” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “She never mailed a single one.”

She stepped closer to him—just a few feet—so that she could pick up one of the bundles. “She didn’t even bother with postage.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if it does either of us any better to have these,” Jason admitted. He took out the final stack and held it out.

Elizabeth frowned as she took them. “These are—” She met his eyes briefly, then they darted away. “These are addressed to me—” She ran her fingers over her name. “These are yours.”

“Yeah. All twenty-four. Twice a month for a year.” The corner of Jason’s mouth quirked up. “Felicia Jones even packaged the telegrams with them.”

She closed her eyes and a tear slid down her cheek. Just one. Elizabeth pressed the bundle to her chest as she took a deep breath. “You—” She looked at him. “You didn’t forget me.”

“No.”

Her breath was shaky as she exhaled. “I didn’t forget you.”

“I know.” He looked at the letters. “And you had more faith in me than I did you. I should have—I should have asked my grandmother about you.”

“I should have asked her about you,” Elizabeth repeated. “She might not have answered me, but maybe she would have told you.”

After a long moment, Elizabeth met his eyes again. “Thank you for bringing them in. I am relieved to have them back. But I should be getting supper together for Cameron—”

“I’ll go,” Jason told her. “Before I do, there are just—there’s just—Lansing looked angry when he left. Is he bothering you?”

“He’s always bothered me,” she murmured. “Since I turned seventeen. It’s nothing new, and I can handle it.”

Jason wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t want to press it. He’d keep an eye on Ric Lansing in town and find out for himself. “Where are Alexander and Peter?”

Elizabeth blinked at him, then frowned. “What?”

“Cameron’s other sons. Why aren’t they here? Why—” He swallowed his question about why she’d married the father, not the sons.

“They’re—they passed away.” Elizabeth held his letters out. “You should take these.”

“I wrote them to you. They’re yours.” Jason tipped his head. “How long ago? When did they die? My grandmother never wrote about it.”

She stared at him for a long time—so long he didn’t know if she’d answer. Then finally, Elizabeth sighed. “Five years ago. And because I know you’ll only ask someone else—Alexander killed his brother, then himself.”