Welcome to another edition of Tuesday Tales, and more White Moon, Yellow Leaves, a M/F contemporary romance.
This week we`ll see how Dana reacts to Jonah`s rather risqué statement.
Our word this week is 'Right'. As always, all comments are greatly appreciated. Make sure to check out all the Tuesday Tales authors great contributions.
White Moon, Yellow Leaves
I was stunned. Speechless. Staggered.
Did the man really just shake his claws at me and call me a cougar? Should I be flattered or offended?
Jonah lowered his necklace, his head tipping to the left to get a better look at me.
“It was a joke." He frowned, a small morning breeze lifting long black tendrils that had slithered free of his braid. “Not like a funny joke but more of a sexy joke. Yeah, this is going well for the red man.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Rhett scampered past, his hat filled with something. The child opened fire, riddling us with acorns. I tossed my arms over my head. Jonah tumbled from the rock as if he were gut-shot moaning and rolling about on the mast at our feet, sending my son into peals of boyish laughter.
“Remember me fondly…beautiful,” Jonah gasped dramatically, bits of leaf stuck to his hair. He wheezed theatrically, convulsed, then died. He just called me beautiful.
Even if I had been mad, my anger would have floated off with the sounds of Rhett`s giggles.
“You really shouldn`t throw acorns at people,” I chastised my boy as he crept up on the good-looking ‘corpse’. “Someone could have been hit in the eye.”
Rhett wasn`t listening. He and his sidekick, Hopalong Poopbottom, were now prodding and sniffling at Jonah. When the man shouted then sat up, both boy and dachshund flew in reverse, Rhett landing on his rump while the dog ran off to hide behind a tree and bark furiously. Jonah ruffled the boys hair then got to his feet.
“You stink!” Rhett sneered, his pride badly dented.
“No, you just fell for an old trick,” Jonah replied, swatting the forest litter from his backside. I got far too engrossed in the slapping of that taut bottom. My son blowing Jonah a raspberry ripped me from the sight. Just in time too, for the saliva was beginning to pool in my mouth. “Don`t ever approach the dead man. You never watch horror movies?”
I blinked at Jonah to clear my singed eyes.
“No,” Rhett scowled. “Mom won`t let me watch scary stuff.” Hands went into pockets, shoulders slumped, and bottom lip came out. Yep, he had the poor, pitiful child look down pat.
“Well, maybe we can work on her to lighten up a bit.” Jonah patted the boy on the back. “We better get moving. It`ll take about an hour to walk the whole path. I have to get the rest of the water heaters flushed for the influx after the holiday.”
“Jonah?” Rhett inquired, stuffing his hat back onto his head still filled with acorns. Jonah looked down at him. I was on my feet and stretching right then left. “We got a huge turkey. Why don`t you and your grandpa come eat Thanksgiving with us? Then I can tell my class about eating Thanksgiving with real Indians.”
I jerked upright and gaped at my son.
“Well, I guess that depends on what your mom and Mrs. Jo say,” Jonah replied tactfully.
“Mom`ll say yes. She likes you!” the child announced then ran off to locate the chipmunk chipping at us rudely. I flushed from my toes to my hairline when Jonah slowly brought those incredible eyes back to me.
Not knowing what, if anything, I should say I opted to giggle like a lake loon and head down the trail, Jonah`s soft chuckles following behind. He caught up with ease and thankfully had enough discretion, or intelligence, not to make my embarrassment worse. We walked in comfortable silence, enjoying the wind coming to life, the soft sound of leaves pattering downward, the sharp barks of grey squirrels as we passed, and the warm calls of chickadees and titmice greeting the bright November sun. Rhett and Leopold stayed slightly ahead of us, the boy stopping frequently to poke amid the leaf litter for treasures, the dog it appeared doing much the same.
As I walked I ruminated. I always found fresh air to be a hell of a mind stimulant. Walking through shifting beams of early morning sunshine I chewed on Jonah. Not literally of course, although if I said I didn`t want to I`d be a bald-faced liar. But, just because I wanted to nibble on him didn`t mean I should. As much as I was shocked about it, he truly did seem to be attracted to me, that ten year gap in ages apparently not a concern to him.
So, if Jonah was willing to overlook my advanced age, my wide ass, my divorced state, and my son as barriers to a possible flirtation why should I be balking? God knows I could use an ego booster, and being courted by a stud ten years my junior certainly qualified. Why was I so conflicted? Fear, I realized with shame. I was afraid to put my heart out there again. Rhick had not only trampled my heart, he had danced the flamenco on it. The man needed a swift kick to his castanets.
I was so engrossed in my' internal fritter frying', as Aunt Jo calls it, I didn`t realize we were coming back down to Mud Puppy Lake until we stepped from the tree line. I paused, stunned by the sight that greeted us. Fifteen Canadian geese were resting on the water. There was a moment, brief yes, but a single moment of absolute harmony as waterfowl glided gracefully across a living looking glass, their grey, black and white bodies sending ripples of autumn color across the lake. The moment lasted only briefly then the wild birds saw us. Their wings beat the tarn. Their honks filled the chilly air. They rose upward noisily then banked south, falling eventually back into a tight V to continue their trip to warmer climes.
Herr Poopbottom found his nerve and raced to the water`s edge, barking at the flock that were now mere specks against a brilliant blue background. I turned to look at Rhett. His cheeks were red from exertion and cold, but his eyes were wide with amazement. Then I looked up at Jonah.
“We`d be pleased to have you and Andy join us Thanksgiving Day,” I said. He smiled then inclined his head.
“I`ll pass the invitation along,” the man replied. “Looks like we got back right in time,” he noted. Aunt Jo-Jo was toddling along the thin dirt path. She waved and we all waved back, except Leopold, who streaked off to greet his long-lost mistress.
We parted ways then, Jonah heading off to get the hunting cabins ready for their owners, Rhett and I walking the perimeter of Mud Puppy Lake hand in hand.
Copyright 2012 ©by V.L. Locey
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The authors of Tuesday Tales will be going on hiatus for the month of August for some rest and relaxation. We`ll be back the first week of September, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with more tales for you to enjoy. When we return we`ll see just how things go with Dana and Jonah and that Thanksgiving dinner.
Until then, enjoy your summer, and we`ll see you in September.
Until then, enjoy your summer, and we`ll see you in September.