"Ferguson returned carrying a used diaper. He stood for a moment and then dropped it on Danielle's running shoes. Danielle jumped back like the diaper carried the plague. The diaper jumped with her. Panicked, she kicked her foot wildly. The diaper landed in the driveway - five yards away.
"In that moment, Amy realized she not only deeply loved, but also deeply admired her son. "
That's an exerpt from this fourth installment of my serial novella. For those who are returning readers, just skip down to "D" and read on.
For those who are new here, A is for Amy & Adonis is a comic story of romantic redemption. The aim is to provide a fun and fast read with characters you can connect to emotionally.
There are 26 short chapters. But it's easy to catch up. The chapters just take a few minutes to read. Just go to the bottom of the blog and click on the chapters you want.
I have decided post two chapters a week. So, if you like what you read here, stay tuned with Huffpost email alerts or follow me on Twitter. --Steven
Three reasons why Amy was a fool:
- She'd just ordered ice cream from Charlie - at three times the price she'd normally pay in the supermarket.
- She was mildly allergic to most dairy food. Anything made with cow's milk could trigger her asthma and sometimes gave her a rash.
- Charlie couldn't make the delivery. So he asked if his friend could bring it over.
Now Danielle stood in her doorway. Flat stomach, thin smile. Tanned and punctured in all the fashionable spots. Something resembling a silver railroad spike had been driven through her navel. She wore hip-hugging workout shorts and a purple acid-wash jog bra. Her hair was acid-wash, too.
She unzipped an insulated backpack, pulling out approximately 35,000 calories worth of frozen dessert. "Wow," she said. "Binge night, huh?"
Amy was stunned by the rudeness, but she recovered quickly. "I'm having a birthday party for one of my children." It was a lie. But Danielle swallowed it. She handed over the ice cream and crouched down to talk to Ferguson.
"Your birthday, big guy?"
Ferguson ran away. Danielle shrugged, "Not a ladies man, huh?"
Amy gave her the money. "He's just disappointed he didn't get to see Charlie," said Amy. "He thought he might get to dance."
"Yeah," said Danielle. "His glutes rock." Danielle was chewing gum at a rapid pace, pausing between chews to let her words escape.
Ferguson returned carrying a used diaper. He stood for a moment and then dropped it on Danielle's running shoes. Danielle jumped back like the diaper carried the plague. The diaper jumped with her. Panicked, she kicked her foot wildly. The diaper landed in the driveway - five yards away.
In that moment, Amy realized she not only deeply loved, but also deeply admired her son.
"Sorry," Amy said, picking up the diaper with her bare hand. "But at least it wasn't one of the poopy ones."
Danielle left in a hurry.
That night, Carmen asked Amy about dandelions. Which was the real dandelion? She wanted to know. The plant with the long green leaves? The yellow flower? Or the round thing with helicopter seeds that you blew into the sky?
Amy explained. Dandelions were like people . They changed while they grew. So the leaves, the flower and the seeds were all dandelions. Just different stages.
Amy told Carmen she was the long green leaves before the flower comes. Carmen got angry. She said she wanted to be the flower, too. Amy smiled and reassured her daughter that she was the flower, and the seeds, too. Amy said the flower and the seeds were inside the leaves, nature's magic just hadn't bought them out yet. Wait, she said, and you'll see, Carmen. You'll be a flower one day. When the time's right.
Carmen thought about this for a while and then asked if she were the dandelion's leaves, what was Amy?
Amy looked down and pictured the bald head of a dandelion denuded of seeds.
"I'm not sure, sweetheart," she said.
When she looked up. Carmen had already left to play.
(more to come, stay tuned on twitter)
READ FIRST THREE CHAPTERS (just click on the one you want)--
Nota Bene -- All the chapters will be archived on Huffpost so people will be able to catch up with the story no matter how late they come to the novella.
Follow Steven Crandell on Twitter: www.twitter.com/stevencrandell