Ok, it seems like some kind of wicked cold plague has invaded my household. Of course, I’m not sick. I’m. NOT. Sick. or so I keep telling myself. At least I ‘m not as sick as everyone else.

And it seems like everyone on the planet is ill. Steve, my incredible tech guy, was wicked ill last week. Dan, the business manager coachish guy, was wicked sick. The husband… wait… maybe there’s a pattern there. All the men are sick. Hmmm… y linked trait?? Maybe so…

Hopefully the sick hasn’t invaded your home as it has mine.

While everyone is recovering, here’s your serial round up to keep you entertained.

Chapter Twenty brings the Queen of Cool, now playing at She is Dallas, forward a few weeks. Lo is tucked away somewhere safe while she heals from her head bashing. We catch up with her just as she settles down to really figure out what the heck is going on. Manny shows up a few days later and, via Skype, she tries to tell her family what happened… but… I mean come on! That would be waaaay too easy. (If you want to get started with the story, the first couple chapters are up at the Queen of Cool. Here’s the start at She is Dallas. It’s very fun and fast, so give it a try!)

In Denver Cereal, Tanesha and Jeraine are interviewed by Priceline but we only get to see the pieces they’re using for advertisement. And it’s juicy! Sandy moves her tribe through their transitions as Sissy starts at East High School and Charlie tries out for the basketball team. Of course, we get the sense that everything might not be as easy as it seems. But at least the kids have started school. Who knows what will happen next?

Because Steve was sick last week, we’ve continued the discounts for Cimarron, Denver Cereal Volume 4, and included the eBooks.  You can get a signed copy of Cimarron for $10 + shipping or a copy of the eBooks for $3.50. The sale will continue until January 13th.

Enjoy!

In the month of January, I’m doing a Twitter Interview (Twitterview) of many of the participants of the #BookMarket chat. These are people who come and generously share their wisdom week after week. The Twitterviews give them a chance to shine.

Today, I had a chance to interview Nox and Grimm‘s author @TechTigger. She is the founder of the Penny Dreadful and a flash fiction maven.

My take on the interview:

I like her view of self vs. traditional publishing. Rather than pick one over the other, she intends to do both. Of course, I’m always interesting in how she got interested  in serial fiction. It’s good to note that we were both having technology problems in the interview.

Here’s the transcript:

ClaudiaC Once a weekday, during the month of January, I’m doing #twitterviews with the folks who attend #bookmarket chat. Today is @techtigger
ClaudiaC @techtigger is the founder of the Penny Dreadful and a force to be reckoned with in the #serialfiction genre. Let’s start!

ClaudiaC Q.1 – What 5 words would you use to describe your writing? #bookmarket #twitterview
@techtigger fast-paced, feisty, paranormal, character-driven #bookmarket
ClaudiaC Wow, those are great words. I’m intrigued by “feisty” – anything you’d like to add there? #bookmarket #twitterview
techtigger fiesty = no whining, self-pitying melodrama. My characters are movers and shakers! #twitterview #bookmarket
ClaudiaC got to love the non whining crowd! I keep forgetting the hash tags too #twitterview #bookmarket.
techtigger i think that’s why i’ve never done the vampire thing. Too much brooding & moping about their lives. #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger if I ever write a vampire, they’ll be a fanged revolutionary! #bookmarket

ClaudiaC Q.2 – What is your favorite thing about the writing/publishing world today? #bookmarket #twitterview
techtigger I love that there are so many options. Makes it harder too, but I’d rather have more choices #bookmarket
ClaudiaC What do you mean too many options? Ppl feel really trapped now. #bookmarket #twitterview
techtigger i also think it’s great that you can do both self and traditional publishing at the same time #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger I think people get overwhelmed w/self-pub & promote. Lots of choices to make, new stuff every day #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger like all the fuss over bookcountry, & recent trad. pubs getting into self-pub. who do you trust? #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger I intend to do both. Some things will work better as self-pub, too hard a sell for trad. markets #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger it’s a matter of knowing your market.Trad pubs tend to play it safe, so the serial will be self-pub #twitterview #bookmarket
ClaudiaC You’re right – it’s awesome to have so many choices #twitterview #bookmarket

ClaudiaC Q.3 – If a reader was totally dialed into what you write, what message would they get?
techtigger A3 -you are never powerless, things are never hopeless. Even the smallst thing can make a big chnge #bookmarket #twitterview
ClaudiaC I love your hopeful message. #bookmarket #twitterview

ClaudiaC Q.4 – Why serial fiction? And why do you think it’s the genre that called you? #bookmarket #twitterview
techtigger A4 – I love the serial format. Old tv shows, comic books, etc. I’ve been hooked on them for years. #bookmarket
techtigger for me it’s a fun challenge to come up with mini-stories and tie them into longer story arcs #bookmarket

ClaudiaC Q.4b When decide to writes some #serialfiction of your own? #serialfiction #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger it’s funny, i hadn’t planned on it. Started writing flashfiction, a few shorts with Nox and Grimm #bookmarket
techtigger I had so much fun, & got great feedback from readers that I’m still going, 2 years later! #bookmarket
techtigger I think it helps that i enjoy world building Love making up the psuedo-science that runs the world #bookmarket
ClaudiaC Two years with Nox and Grimm – or any serial fiction – is fabulous. Congrautlations! #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger aww, thanks! I can’t believe i’m coming up on my 100th episode already. time flies, eh? #bookmarket

ClaudiaC Q.4c – B/C I can, I wanted to ask you if you have a fav. flash fiction? If so what? #bookmarket #twitterview
techtigger my own, or someone else’s? I’m a huge fan of addergoole by @lynthornealder , love the writing. #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger you know, it’s hard to pick a favorite from a serial. too many good ones to choose from #bookmarket

ClaudiaC Q.5 – Everyone has a super secret ninja skill. What’s yours? #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger I make cinnamon buns miraculously disappear…but I don’t thinnk that’s what you meant #bookmarket
techtigger Ninja skill – to build a world, build good characters. Starts there, goes outwards #bookmarket
ClaudiaC Fabulous! RT @techtigger: #twitterview Ninja skill – to build a world, build good characters. Starts there, goes outwards #bookmarket

ClaudiaC That’s all I have – would you like to add anything? #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger  Just to say thanks for choosing me as your inaugural #twitterview – definately fun! #bookmarket
techtigger and everyone go read Nox and Grimm! *lol* techtigger.wordpress.com #twitterview #shamelessplug #bookmarket
ClaudiaC Thanks for your great answers& ur time! *applause* *applause* I’ll have a transcript up in a bit #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger *bows* thank you! can’t wait to see more of these from the bookmarket crew, what a great idea! #twitterview #bookmarket

Post interview questions:
angelaperry What has been your most successful #bookmarket technique? #twitterview
techtigger finding new readers is always a tough job, so inviting others to guest post helps as well #bookmarket
techtigger guest posts on other blogs. it gets the story out in front of readers who might not see it otherwise #bookmarket

angelaperry How do you get reviews? Have you considered an omnibus for pub on Amazon? #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger I’m actually gathering episodes into ebooks now. Haven’t so much gotten reviews, as interviews #bookmarket
techtigger will work on the review thing when I have ebooks to hand out to bloggers, etc. #bookmarket

angelaperry If you could have one thing to help with your marketing, what would it be? #twitterview #bookmarket
techtigger an official author website. I’m working on one now. My free wordpress blog just isn’t enough anymore #bookmarket
techtigger that’ll also help for the reviews -give bloggers a place to get press kit, blurbs, review copies, etc. #bookmarket

Tomorrow, I’m #bookmarket #twitterview ing publisher @candlemarkgleam at 4 pm ET – Join us for some serious publisher chat

Previous #twitterviews:

Eco-fantasy and @Harmonygirlit 

Good morning!  There’s a lot going on in Denver Cereal and the Queen of Cool.  I thought it might be helpful to give a little serial fiction round up.  So, pull up a bowl of cereal and let’s take a look at what’s going on in the serials this week. 

In the Queen of Cool, now playing at She is Dallas, Lo gathers up her tissues, a pint of  Dutch Chocolate Blue Bell ice cream, her dog Truman, and begins to look at Don’s appreciation journal. What she finds surprises even us. You’ll find out this week as the mystery of who killed Don Downs deepens. (Haven’t started yet?  Here’s the first chapter.)

On a side note, I was interviewed on Blog Talk Radio’s Dead Air radio program about the Queen of Cool and my ghost experiences when I was in Fort Worth. You can listen here.

Denver Cereal continues Jeraine and Tanesha’s journey toward… well, we’re not sure. With the help of Ava and Seth, everyone gets ready to catch the men who’ve been drugging Jeraine to keep him in his addiction and stuck. Left at home, Sissy has a conversation with the movie star Valerie about being perfect and Blane meets Nelson, Ava’s coworker. We’re left with the lingering question posed by philosopher Rodney Smith : “Are you going to be a slave to the past? Or take a chance today?” Good question for a holiday week.

Where are the books? Yes, we got really behind last year and have been able to catch up much this year. However, Cimmaron, the fourth Denver Cereal book is due to be published this month. With a little luck, that will happen. Black Forest, Denver Cereal Volume 5, is slated to be published in January. We have everything set up to make sure we stay on track this year. Thanks for your patience.

In the meantime, we continue our dedication to providing quality content for free on the individual websites as well as at Stories by Claudia.

I was interviewed about serial fiction by Jane Friedman for Publishing Perspectives, Experimenting with Serials for Fun and Profit. This is a fabulous round up of the complex and growing field of serial fiction. Be sure to check it out!

Enjoy!

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

Chapter 184

Saturday evening — 7:45 P.M.

“Tanesha?” Jeraine called from the door to the Penthouse.

He walked into the Penthouse.

“Tanesha?”

He was having dinner with the record executives when the restaurant ahd played the song, his song for Tanesha. The song was his present and his one hope to make up for everything that happened. The executives cheered each other and him for his “brilliant move” of leaking the song.

But he didn’t leak the song.

His eyes had shifted across the faces of the men he had thought were his friends until they’d settled on his ex-agent. The man’s face was a mask of arrogance and anger. This song automatically renewed Jeraine’s contract with the record company. The agent had made at least a hundred thousand by hacking his email.

And Jeraine was his slave again.

Jeraine excused himself from the table and slipped into the bathroom. He’d tried to call Tanesha. He’d tried to call Schmidty. He got only voicemail. When a crowd of men came in the bathroom, he slipped out and took a taxi home.

“Tanesha?”

Everywhere he looked, he saw signs that she’d moved out. He rubbed his forehead. Tanesha had left him. Again.

He couldn’t blame her. He’d leave him too.

He felt high. No, he felt really high. It was all he could do to keep from losing himself in the dozen or more half naked woman pressed upon him. But he hadn’t done a thing. “This too shall pass.” His Dad told him to repeat it in his head. And it worked. He hadn’t strayed even a little bit.

Not a kiss.

Not a feel, a rub, a squeeze…

And certainly not…

“Tanesha?”

Feeling dizzy, he stopped at the kitchen for a glass of water. Her tea was still here. That meant she was at her Gran’s house. Her Gran and Miss T drank the same tea. If Miss T left without her tea, she was at her Gran’s. He’d go there.

Smiling, he poured a glass of water and his head began to spin. The glass slipped from his hand and shattered in the sink. The palms of his hands caught on the edge of the stainless sink to keep him from falling face first into the jagged glass.

He remembered this feeling. His eyes blurred. His head felt woozy. Hearing footsteps, he tried to turn, slipped, and crumpled to the ground.

“Tanesha?”

“Not quite.”

As Jeraine’s eyes sagged, he saw a pair of blue jean clad legs walk toward him.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday night — 7:45 P.M.

“I guess I don’t really understand it,” Tanesha said. “There are a billion and one people who would do anything to be famous.”

Setting her wine glass down, Tanesha looked around the dinner table. Her girls, Jill, Heather and Sandy were sitting with their men, Jacob, Blane and Aden. Valerie sat on Tanesha’s right with Mike on her other side. Jill’s grandfather, Otis, sat between Mike and Angelika. Sam sat at the head of the table with Delphie at his right. The kids had already lost patience with the adults’ extended dinner and went upstairs to play video games in Sandy and Aden’s apartment. Ava, Seth and Bumpy came in late so they squeezed in on the end across from her.

“True,” Bumpy said. “They can easily replace Jeraine with a younger model.”

“Why go through all of this?” Tanesha asked.

“It’s confusing,” Valerie said. “When I think of just me… I mean, I worked on the soap opera for a long time and even did a few movies, but I’m not anywhere near as famous as Jeraine. No I don’t mean famous, well I’m not as famous as Jeraine, but I mean…”

“Bankable,” Seth said. “Put in a small amount of money and get a lot of money back.”

“Right,” Otis, Jill’s grandfather, said. “Backing talent? Artists? Even painters? It’s like gambling. You have to spend money on a thousand to hit it big with one. And once one person hits big? You want to get every possible dime from that person to make up for the other thousand you lost money on.”

“I’m not anywhere near that level, “ Valerie held her hand out to Seth and Bumpy. “But these guys? Jeraine? They’re bankable.”

“Most people work until both the fans and the record company are done with them,” Bumpy said. “To leave in the middle? Doesn’t happen.”

“Jeraine was set to take a step up in his career,” Seth said. “But he decided to clean up his act. He was ready to walk away when he was set up for his fan’s suicide. After a couple years in prison, he could have come out on top. Would have happened, but I came along.”

“It’s hard to understand,” Valerie said. “Confusing. But he gave it all up to be with you, Tanesha.”

“And himself,” Seth said. “That time in solitary reminded him of who he was.”

“Even as a young child, Jer never wanted a big life,” Bumpy said. “All the boy cared about was his Momma, his sister, me, and eventually Tanesha. La Tonya? She wanted fancy clothes, a big car, and a nicer house. But Jeraine was happy where he was planted. I mean, he went a little nuts when he was a teenager…”

“Called himself Jermaine,” Delphie said.

“Jermaine,” Bumpy shook his head. “Like he was some Jackson. Now that’s crazy.”

“Everyone goes a little nuts when they’re a teenager,” Sam said.

“I didn’t,” Tanesha said.

“How could you?” Sandy asked. “You just had you.”

“And us,” Heather said.

Tanesha took Heather and Jill’s offered hands. Her eyes caught Sandy’s. She had her girls. Tanesha’s phone rang.

“Hey, I’ve got him,” Tres Sierra said. “He’s completely out. Passed out in the kitchen. His Mom’s here taking blood so they’ll have it. Isn’t his Dad a doctor?”

“He’s right here,” Tanesha said.

“You should have him come over,” Tres said. “I don’t like the way he looks.”

Tanesha nodded to Bumpy.

“You know,” Tres said. “I think Jill was right. I don’t think he screwed those women.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t smell like women,” Tres said. “You know what I mean.”

“Hrmpf,” Tanesha said. “We’ll see.”

“I thought you should know,” Tres said. “Anyway, I’ll be in touch. You’ll send his Dad?”

“I will,” Tanesha said. “Thanks.”

“You’d do it for me,” Tres said and hung up.

“You were right, Jacob,” Tanesha said. “He went to the Penthouse. Tres says he’s passed out. He asked if Bumpy could come look at him. I guess he doesn’t look good.”

Bumpy got up from his seat.

“With the prison time, he’s been clean almost a year,” Seth said. “They probably didn’t consider that.”

Bumpy nodded good-bye to everyone and left the Castle.

“Looks like everything’s in motion,” Jill gave a little clap.

“Come on, Ava, Heather, let’s get dressed,” Sandy said.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday night — 6:45 P.M. PDT ( 7:45 P.M. MDT )

Hollywood, California

“Yes sir,” Schmidty said. “I realize it’s confusing.”

He gave the lawyer for Jeraine’s record company his best naïve smile. The lawyer for the movie studio had to look away to keep from laughing. Two of the film’s executive-producers leaned on the polished furniture. The third stood near the windows. The film’s Director sat next to Schmidty.

“But the bottom line is that the song doesn’t belong to Jeraine,” Schmidty said.

“Jeraine was hired by O’Malley to help him create a lead song for the film,” the movie studio lawyer said. “BumpyWilson, you know who he is?”

The lawyer for the record company scowled.

“You can hear his signature back beat on the song,” the lawyer for the music studio said.

“O’Malley belongs to me,” the Director said. “I won’t do a film without him.”

“We paid a fortune for him,” the Executive Producer leaning on the file cabinet behind Schmidty said.

“We paid three fortunes for him,” a strong New York accented voice came from the only woman in the room, the executive-producer standing by the windows. “If he died tomorrow, heaven forbid, he would already have been worth every penny.”

“Listen to the song! That’s my orchestra,” the Director said. “This song is brilliant. You better believe O’Malley’s worth every penny and then some.”

“Jeraine’s voice is on the song,” the lawyer for the studio said. “We contractually own his voice. The rest of this is… side business and royalty issues. We couldn’t be happier you’ve decided to use our song for your movie.”

“Jeraine’s voice is like frim fram sauce or shifafa,” Schmidty said. Seeing the lawyers confused face, he shook his head at his ignorance. “Look it up.”

“He means that Jeraine’s voice is a place holder for our actors,” the movie studio lawyer said. “Frim Fram Sauce was an unfinished song that Nat King Cole made famous. Frim Fram, shifafa, oss, and fey were rhyming words the song writer used to hold the place until he found better words. They needed a song to complete the album so the song was recorded. That’s what happened here.”

“Blame Jeraine,” the lawyer said. “The boy has no boundaries. Have you seen him with women? He leaked the song. Take up your beef with him. I’m not sure why this conversation involves us.”

“The Denver Police crime lab link the hacking of Jeraine Wilson’s email box to employees working in this building. Employees of this company,” the executive producer near the window said. “Denver Police are waiting for Jeraine to identify the men before they arrest them. You might want to call your colleagues in Denver so they have criminal representation.”

“Our people can be a little overzealous,” the lawyer for the record company said. “Especially prior to a live performance.”

“You asked how this conversation involves you,” Schmidty said. “Let’s be clear. Your company stole the movie studio’s property in order to re-sign my artist. You own my artists voice, but you don’t own his work.”

“I own his work,” the Director growled. “He works for me. And you stole from me!”

The corner of Schmidty’s mouth lifted. When he’d contacted the Director, he’d told him he would be able to pull this off. The Director had been a child actor. He understood exactly what Jeraine was going through. It wasn’t until this moment that the Director’s acting skills became apparent.

“I’d like to see those contracts,” the lawyer for the record company.

“I thought you’d say that,” Schmidty said. “Is electronic all right?”

The lawyer for the record company blinked at Schmidty. Schmidty gave him another sweet smile.

“Sure,” the lawyer for the record company said.

“Tell you what,” Schmidty opened his laptop. “How ‘bout I email them to you?”

“I still own Jeraine,” the lawyer for the record company said.

“Actually,” the movie studio lawyer said. “You obtained the song illegally…”

“My song,” the Director’s head jerked to look at the movie studio’s lawyer. He pointed at the lawyer for the record studio. “He stole MY SONG!”

“Yes,” the movie studio’s lawyer sounded like he was speaking to a child. “He did.”

“I own everything O’Malley creates,” the Director said. “Everything. That means I own everything Bumpy and Jeraine create.”

“Different contracts,” Schmidty said.

“We only care about what our talent creates,” the woman near the windows said. “And they created this song.”

“Which means your contract with Jeraine expired,” Schmidty said.

“We’d happily take you to court over this,” the executive-producer who hadn’t spoken yet said. “But it sounds like you’ll have plenty to do defending your employees.”

“They don’t take cyber crime lightly in Denver,” Schmidty said. “And this is a slam dunk – motive, opportunity, the whole nine.”

Schmidty sat a little straighter. Since he worked with Seth, he felt like he was 1:1000^th cop.

“We’ll file for copyright infringement, of course,” the movie studio lawyer said.

“At the very least!” the Director said. “We should file for emotional duress and…”

“What is it you’d like me to do?” the record company’s lawyer asked.

“Retract the song,” the movie studio’s lawyer said.

“Let people know there was some confusion and that the song is for our movie,” the executive-producer sitting behind Seth said.

“Officially release Jeraine from his contract,” Schmidty said.

“Or?”

“We’ll file for copyright infringement,” the movie studio’s lawyer said.

“Theft of intellectual property,” the executive producer near the windows said. “Harassment of our talent. We’ll request punitive damages for slowing production of the film due to your employees… what was the word he used?’

“Overzealous,” the executive producer sitting next to the door said.

“Yes, over-zealousness,” the woman’s harshN ew York accent accentuated every syllable.

“And emotional duress,” the Director said. “I spoke with O’Malley. He’s so upset about this he’s talking about needing time to recover.”

“We pay for the Orchestra and the space whether they work or not,” the executive producer said. “We’ll need reimbursement for that too.”

“We’ll consider it,” the record company’s lawyer said.

His voice was neutral but the tension in the room remained high. Standing, Schmidty held out his hand for the lawyer to shake. The lawyer just looked at his hand. Schmidty chuckled.

“We’ll see ourselves out,” the movie studio’s lawyer said.

They filed out of the office leaving the record studio’s lawyer at his desk. They were in the elevator before Schmidty started to laugh.

“Emotional duress?” Schmidty laughed.

“I’m sensitive,” the Director laughed.

Everyone laughed.

“I’ll tell you James Schmidt the Fifth,” the executive-producer from New York said. “You have balls of steel. I don’t think even your father could have pulled that off. Do you have the contracts?”

“I will,” Schmidty shook his head.

“We have our song, right?” the Director asked.

“If this works, it’s all yours,” Schmidty said.

The movie people clapped.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday night — 8:15 P.M. MDT

Lying naked in bed, Jeraine woke up with a start. His eyes scanned the room until he saw his mother sitting next to him on the bed. He tried to sit up.

“Slowly,” Dionne put her hand on his chest and pushed him back to the bed. “You’ve had a rough night.”

“Momma,” Jeraine said. “I’m still high.”

“You’re going to be for a while,” Bumpy towered over the bed.

“How Daddy?” Jeraine asked. “I didn’t do anything!”

“We think they gave you GHB in that Red Bull crap you’re forever drinking,” Bumpy said. “Or that’s what Seth said. We’re going to see if we can get some later on to test it.”

“G,” Jeraine said. “That’s why I black out.”

“Probably,” Bumpy said. “We’ll have to run some scans next week to see if you have brain damage. Miss T says you’re a little slow at processing new thoughts.”

“GHB, damn,” Jeraine said. “That’s why I want the women.”

“That and you’re a horny bastard,” Tanesha said.

“Miss T?” Jeraine looked at his mother for confirmation. “She’s here?”

Tanesha sat down on the bed across from Dionne. He rolled over to look at her. His hand stroked her face.

“I been lookin’ for you everywhere,” Jeraine said.

Tanesha smiled.

“Where are we?”

“You’re in a suite at the Burnsley,” Dionne said.

“We’ve pumped your stomach,” Bumpy said. “And did our best to clean you up. When did you get all those damned tattoos, son? You look like  prize Stock Show bull with everyone’s brand all up and down your backside.”

“Bumpy, leave the boy alone,” Dionne said.

“He looks like a fool,” Bumpy said.

“We’ll leave you,” Dionne said. “You have a half hour or so before you have to go.”

“Go where?” Jeraine said. “Momma, I feel like crap.”

“Doesn’t matter, son,” Bumpy said. “Your fans are waiting for you. They’ve been waiting all day.”

“Plus, we want to catch the guys that did this to you,” Tanesha nodded to him. “To us.”

“Come on, old man,” Dionne said. “Let’s let them have a little bit of a happy ending before the show starts.”

She kissed Jeraine’s cheek. Bumpy put his arm around her and they left the room.

“I looked everywhere for you,” Jeraine said.

“You passed out at the first place you looked,” Tanesha said.

“Yes, but only after I knew where you were,” Jeraine said. “You went to your Gran’s.”

Tanesha smiled.

“Who’s the good looking Mexican?” Jeraine asked.

“Tres,” Tanesha said.

“Damn, you should get with him,” Jeraine said.

“I’m in love with someone else,” Tanesha said.

“Anyone I know,” Jeraine said.

“I hope so.”

Jeraine pulled her to him and she laughed.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

CHAPTER 183

Saturday afternoon — 4:15 P.M.

“You seem happy today,” Sandy said.

Standing behind Sissy at a station in her salon, Sandy ran a comb through Sissy’s long hair. Noelle was sitting behind them with aluminum foils in her hair. Charlie sat at the station next to them with a cloud of warm, eucalyptus-drenched towels over his face. Teddy and Nash were playing video games while they waited their turn. Rachel was sound asleep in her crib in the back.

“I had a good day,” Sissy said. “Don’t tell anyone but it’s actually kind of nice not to be dancing all the time.”

Sandy smiled.

“You won’t tell will you? I don’t want them to think I’m not committed,” Sissy said. “It’s just nice to take a break.”

“Everyone needs a break now and then,” Sandy said. “What are we doing with your hair? A trim, for sure.”

Sandy held up an inch of the end of Sissy’s hair.

“How long has it been?” Sandy asked.

“Since the beginning of the summer,” Sissy said.

“What have you been doing to your hair?” Sandy asked.

“It’s the heat. Blow drying. Curling,” Sissy said. “That’s what you used to say.”

“The life of a ballerina is fraught with split ends,” Sandy said.

Sissy laughed.

“Anything else?” Sandy asked. “Something pretty for school?”

“What did Noelle get?” Sissy asked.

“Pink,” Sandy said. “Along the back. But you’re going to high school.”

“I want pink too,” Sissy said. “But not all of it.”

“Just underneath?” Sandy asked.

“So you can see it like a peppermint candy when I put it up in a bun,” Sissy said.

“What will Ivan say?” Sandy asked.

“I don’t know,” Sissy said. “Mrs. Anjelika is mad at Ivan. She doesn’t want me to dance with him anymore.”

“She told me,” Sandy said. “I wanted to ask you about it.”

“Why me?”

“Because it’s really up to you,” Sandy said. “It’s your career, your time, your dancing.”

“Oh,” Sissy said.

“Why don’t you think about it while we get your hair washed?” Sandy asked. Sandy nodded to her assistant. “Can you give her the deep conditioning treatment? Her hair is pretty dry.”

Sandy’s assistant took Sissy to the back to wash her hair and Sandy moved over to Charlie.

“How’s the soak going?” Sandy asked.

“Why does my face hurt?” Charlie asked.

“Dad was pretty hairy,” Sandy said. “I don’t know about Patty’s Dad but I bet he was too. You’re going to have a full beard in a few years.”

“But why does it hurt?”

“Just the hair going through the skin,” Sandy said. “The heat helps. Shaving helps. You’ll get through it.”

“Gives me pimples,” Charlie said. “I hate that.”

“You’re doing great,” Sandy said. “The products we’re using are helping. The treatments are helping. You can barely tell. What do we want to do with your hair?”

Charlie didn’t say anything.

“If you don’t say anything I’ll cut it all off.” Sandy flipped through his mop of shoulder length hair. Charlie didn’t say anything. “Ok, but don’t be mad later.”

Working fast, Sandy trimmed the sides down to his scalp to expose his rich chestnut hair color. She left the top front about two inches long and layered it back until it was close to his head. Looking up, she saw her assistant come back with Sissy. She nodded her assistant toward the station next to her.

“Wow,” Sissy said when she saw Charlie’s hair.

Unwilling to leave Charlie alone, Sandy pointed her assistant to the blonde highlights left over from Noelle’s hair. Sandy put the rest of the blonde dye through the top of Charlie’s head.

“Five minutes,” she said to her assistant.

“Got it,” the woman smiled.

Sandy squeezed Charlie’s shoulder and shifted toward Sissy. Charlie grabbed her hand and pointed. His friend Tink was walking toward the salon.

“Do you mind?” Charlie asked. “She’s looking for a job and her hair’s like a rat’s nest. She…”

“I’m glad she’s here,” Sandy said. “Noelle?”

Noelle looked up at her with gossip-magazine numbed eyes.

“Can you let Tink in?”

Noelle looked at the door.

“Now?” Sandy asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking about something.” Noelle got up and jogged over to the door. ”You know the Valerie Lipson they talk about in this magazine isn’t anything like Mike’s wife. Do you think they’re the same person? Hi Tink.”

“They may as well be two different people! Those magazines are filled with lies that only stupid people and little girls believe,” Charlie said. “Hey Tink.”

“I’m not a little girl,” Noelle said. “I don’t believe them.”

“It’s okay?” Tink asked.

“Of course,” Sandy said. “Do you mind waiting?”

Tink shook her head.

“You can sit by me,” Noelle said. “Oooh! I like this song! Turn it up!”

Noelle ran over to turn up the music.

“I promised you…” Noelle and Sissy sang together, “I promised you…”

Sandy put her hands on Sissy’s shoulders.

“I can’t cut your hair if you wiggle,” Sandy said. To her assistant, she said, “I need the same pink for Sissy.”

“You bet,” her assistant smiled.

“Is this too much?” Sandy asked.

“I love family day,” her assistant said.

Smiling, Sandy started cutting Sissy’s hair. The song Noelle loved permeated the salon. A man crooned about making all these promises to the woman he loved and breaking every one of them. Sandy smiled at Noelle and Sissy’s teenage resonance with the songwriter’s pain. Then she heard:

“Jer? Whatcha doin’ out here?” in Tanesha’s voice. Stunned, she stopped cutting.

“Nothing,” the man said and the song was over.

Sandy walked over to the stereo and turned it down.

“What is that song?” Sandy asked.

“It’s a new song from Jeraine,” Sissy said. “You know Auntie Tanesha’s boyfriend?”

“I know who he is,” Sandy said.

“They’re saying it was leaked to the radio station,” Charlie said. “But he has a concert tonight. I heard it wasn’t sold out until they leaked it locally. Just another bs ploy to get attention.”

“Did you hear him at the radio station?” Noelle asked. “They asked him about the song and he said, ‘What new song?’ I don’t think he knew.”

“Yeah, if I was trying to pump my fame, I’d say the same thing,” Charlie said.

Angry, Sissy spun her chair toward Charlie and the argument began. Noelle and Sissy believed in poor Jeraine. Charlie thought he was a fame whore. Nash and Teddy came from the back to join in. Hearing her siblings voices, Rachel gave a rousing scream.

Sandy went to the back of the salon to get Rachel and her phone.  With Rachel crying in one arm, Sandy dialed Tanesha. Her phone clicked over to voice mail.

“I know you’re hiding out today,” Sandy said. “But you’ve got to hear this song. Someone’s trying to screw you. Love you, T. Call me back.”

Sandy heard the salon door close and the kids stop arguing. Peeking out, she saw Aden standing in the doorway. His presence put a quick end to their argument. She went out to give him Rachel and a kiss.

“Ok, Sis,” Sandy said. “Let’s get this done.”

For the next few hours, Sandy worked on the kids hair. She was just finishing Aden’s shave when she realized she hadn’t heard back from Tanesha. She checked her phone. Nothing.

Tanesha was out of touch. Sandy made a quick call to Heather who confirmed that Tanesha had turned off her phone today to avoid Jeraine. Heather agreed to go to Tanesha’s Gran’s house and to call Jill.

Something was definitely up and her dear friend Tanesha was smack dab in the middle of it.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday evening — 6:15 P.M.

“Why do you watch that trash?” Bumpy asked his wife, Dionne.

He stood behind the couch. Dionne looked up from the evening news.

“I’m waiting to see your son,” Dionne said. “Don’t be such an ass. You know you want to see him really do this – clean, sober, saying good-bye to all the toxic in his life.”

Bumpy scowled at her. She patted the couch next to her. He gave her a hard look. She patted the couch and he came around to sit down.

“There he is,” Dionne grabbed the remote control and turned up the volume.

“He’s high,” Bumpy got up from the couch. “He’s really high. And look at the women… I can’t watch this.”

“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” Dionne said. “You know what he said.”

“He’s an addict,” Bumpy said. “He’s back to the same old bullshit.”

“Do you really not remember what happened?” Dionne jumped up to stand in front of him. A small woman next to his massive frame, she gave no ground. “To us?”

“What are you talking about?” Bumpy’s voice was hard and dismissive.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Dionne said.

“That was different,” Bumpy said. “I wanted to get out of the life. I wanted to be with you and create this life. Haven’t I done that?”

“And what did the record company want?” Dionne asked.

Bumpy looked down at Dionne.

“And what happened?”

“We lost the baby,” Bumpy said.

“Why did I lose our son?” Dionne asked.

“Because of them,” Bumpy said. “I had to finish the last three months of my contract. We couldn’t afford to get out of it.”

“And?”

“I got high and…” Bumpy said.

“And?”

Bumpy looked away from her. She tugged on his shirt and he looked down at her.

“That was different,” Bumpy said.

“Why?” Dionne asked. “They slipped you hard drugs. They lied to me and told me you wanted to see me. And what happened?”

“You saw me with a bunch of women,” Bumpy said. “You got so upset that you lost the baby.”

“They blamed me when you wanted to change your life,” Dionne said. “They did everything to break us up.”

“That didn’t happen,” Bumpy said.

“It’s happening to your son right this very instant,” Dionne said. “Your living son will lose his life today if we don’t do something. The only thing he cares about is Tanesha. She’s the only thing that keeps him going. He will lose her today if we don’t do something.”

“Did you hear the song?” Bumpy asked.

“What song?” Dionne asked.

“Our son wrote a song he told me and Seth was for Tanesha,” Bumpy said. “We worked our butts off and…”

“It’s playing on the radio?” Dionne asked.

“He must have leaked it.”

“Oh grow up,” Dionne said. “You know exactly what happened. Someone stole it and now he’s high. Someone did this to our son specifically to destroy his life with Tanesha. You know that.”

He gave her a curt nod.

“What are you going to do about it?”

~~~~~~~~

Saturday evening — 6:35 P.M.

“I’ve been trying to get you for hours.” Seth gripped the phone as he limped back and forth across his living room. Bumpy sat on the couch watching Seth pass in front of him. Ava tried to get him to sit down, but he was too angry to stop pacing.

“Sorry about that,” Schmidty said. “I turned off my phone when we got to the airport.”

“How is Lizzie?” Seth asked.

“Tired,” Schmidty said. “We just got settled at the house. I think she’s relieved to be here. Thanks for suggesting it and making it available.”

“I’m glad things are working out,” Seth said. “Colin and Julie took Connor home right after you left. They’re in baby bliss.”

“I’m glad. I’ll tell Lizzie. She’ll be happy,” Schmidty said. “Listen, you called five times. I thought I’d call you rather than listen to the messages.”

“No problem,” Seth said.

“What’s up?” Schmidty asked.

“Remember that song Bumpy and I were helping Jeraine with?”

“The one for Tanesha?” Schmidty asked.

“That one,” Seth said. “It was leaked it to the radio station.”

“Oh shit,” Schmidty said.

“My buddy at DPD cyber crime says someone hacked Jeraine’s email box,” Seth said. “Said they worked on it for almost two days before they got in. They’ve been able to track the IP address, whatever that is.”

“Where?”

“Last management team. You know the one connected with the record company.”

“He’s sure?”

“He’s sure,” Seth said. “The song’s gone viral. Ava’s found three videos on YouTube.”

“Must be a great song,” Schmidty said.

“It’s very touching,” Seth said.

“I’ll call the lawyers.”

“I don’t mean to be an old fart,” Seth said. “But are you up for this? Should we call your Dad?”

“I live for this kind of thing, Seth,” Schmidty said. “Seriously. Great fun. It’s why I went to law school. Leave it to me.”

“You remember the studio…”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten that the studio owns everything you work on this month,” Schmidty said.

“I used the orchestra,” Seth said.

“That’s even better.”

“It is?”

“Leave it to me, Seth,” Schmidty said. “No one fucks with my artists.”

“No one fucks with your artists,” Seth repeated slowly.

“Don’t worry old man,” Schmidty chuckled. “Give me a couple hours. What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Seth said.

“I have a couple messages from Bumpy,” Schmidty said. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“He’s here,” Seth said.

“Any idea where Jeraine is now?”

“He’s having dinner with the record execs,” Seth said. “He’s due at the club in a couple hours. And Schmidty?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s high,” Seth said. “He told me this thing when he was in prison. I thought it was just an excuse, you know, an addict’s lie.”

“Anything we can use?”

“He told me that he’d tried to get clean a few times,” Seth said. “He’d clean up, stop using, stop the women, then bam as soon as he was touring again it would start again. I said something about being an addict or whatever. He said it wasn’t like that. He never remembered drinking or getting high. That’s what he said happened the night the girl died. He was black out high and had no memory of getting that way.”

“Yeah but if he was black out…”

“Trust me, Schmidty, when you wind up in a black out, you know the road you took to get there. You remember the starting the party,” Seth said. “He had no idea how he got so high. He said it happened a lot. He’d just suddenly be high. When he’s high, he wants women. That’s how he decided to get rid of his entourage. This stuff only happened when they were around.”

“And he’s high now?”

“He looks high,” Seth said.

“He’s high,” Bumpy yelled in the background.

“Any ideas how that happened?” Schmidty asked.

“A few.”

“Well, don’t do anything crazy,” Schmidty said. “I’ll be in touch.”

Schmidty clicked off the telephone call.

“So?” Bumpy asked.

“He says he’s going to take care of it,” Seth said.

“He’s a child,” Bumpy said.

“Let’s give him a chance,” Seth said. “Doesn’t Regis still own the Church?”

“Far as I know,” Bumpy said. “I’ll call him.”

“Schmidty said we shouldn’t do anything crazy,” Seth said.

“When has a Schmidty stopped us from being crazy?”

Seth laughed.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday evening — 6:35 P.M.

“Yeah, Heather came by,” Tanesha said as she closed her Gran’s front door. “She and Blane are going to be at dinner.”

“You okay?” Tres Sierra asked.

“No,” Tanesha walked out to the street. “Did you see him on TV?”

“Yeah,” Tres said.

“He’s high,” Tanesha said. “God, Tres, he’s high! And the women clinging on him… I…”

“You want to meet at the Squire for a drink before we go to the Castle?”

“I think a drink will send me right over the edge,” Tanesha opened her car door and sat down.

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the Castle,” Tres said. “But we can get out anytime.”

“See you there.”

Tanesha clicked off the call and closed her car door. She had the desire to run back inside and hide under her covers like she had most of the day. Sighing, she started the car. The radio blared. She drove down her street toward Twenty-Third.

“Here it is,” the announcer said. “The song you’ve been lighting up our lines to hear. ‘I promised you,’ by our own Jeraine.”

Tanesha looked at the radio. Jeraine might be a drug addict, womanizer and a liar, but he was an amazing business man. He’d agreed not to release any music until his recording contract was complete. Tanesha was there when he and Jammy went over his contract. She saw Jeraine’s head nodding to Schmidty telling him to take a year off. He wanted the year off.

So what the hell was this song?

The song began with a sorrowful violin. The moaning was joined by a standup base beat and an orchestra picked up the beat.

“How can I make a promise to you?” Jeraine said. “When I’ve promised you the world and failed every time.”

For the next few minutes, Tanesha felt outside of time as she listened to Jeraine detail every promise he’d made and broken. Stopping at the light on Broadway and Seventeenth, she glanced at the car next to her. A woman was crying her eyes out. Feeling Tanesha’s eyes, she turned to look. The woman’s passenger window went down

“Jeraine?” the woman yelled.

Tanesha nodded.

“Breaks your heart,” she said.

The light changed and the woman raised a hand in a wave.

“Jer? Whatcha doin’ out here?”

Tanesha heard her own voice come from the radio.

“Nothing,” he said.

Her mind transported to the moment he’d recorded. She saw herself leaning against the doorframe of the den in the Penthouse. She’d been watching him for a while. He wore expensive headphones and was working on a song. She could see the music move on his mixing program. Humming this tune, he was looking at a picture his Mom had taken of them on his eighteenth birthday. When she’d asked her question, he closed his laptop and they’d gone to bed.

Tanesha blinked.

“That was the new song from our own Jeraine,” the radio announcer said. “We’re not saying who, but someone leaked the song exclusively to…”

Tanesha turned off the radio.

“You can fight this thing with me, on my side, instead of against me.” Jeraine’s words echoed in her mind.

“Are you willing to fight for his soul?” his mother’s words followed Jeraine’s.

Turning onto Race  Street from Colfax, she saw her girls waiting for her in the driveway. She pulled in and parked behind Tres’s car.

“How are you?” Heather hugged Tanesha tight.

“I just heard the song,” Tanesha said. “My song. The one he wrote for me. As a present just to me. My private apology is all over the world for strangers to hear.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” Sandy hugged her.

“No, they’re the one’s who’re going to be sorry,” Tanesha said.

Sandy stepped back to look at her.

“Those jerks messed with the wrong girl,” Tanesha said. “Will you help me?”

“Anything,” Jill said.

“It’s time to get even,” Tanesha said. “And get my man back.”

“We’re in,” Heather said. “What do we do?”

“I know just the thing,” Tanesha said.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and EIGHTY-TWO

Saturday early morning – 2:45 A.M.

“Hey,” Jeraine said when Tanesha came out of the bathroom.

He was sitting on the edge of bed. He set his phone down when she came out. Naked, she gave him a smirk and put on her nightshirt. He kissed her.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Jeraine asked.

“Is this about the small dick thing?” Tanesha smiled. “Because that was a joke.”

“I know,” Jeraine said. “I meant at the club and, I guess, everything.”

“Didn’t it seem like I had a good time?” Tanesha asked.

He nodded.

“What’s got you all insecure all of the sudden?” Tanesha asked.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Jeraine said.

Tanesha sat down on the bed.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad that you feel like you’d do anything for it?” Jeraine asked.

“Sure,” Tanesha nodded.

“I felt that way about making it big with my music,” Jeraine said. “I didn’t want to be my Dad’s kind of star or Seth’s. I wanted to be big, huge even, successful, popular… And…”

“You got kind of stuck there,” Tanesha said.

“I didn’t realize I had already gone way past what I thought I wanted,” he said. “And lost everything I loved.”

“And now?”

“I’m not going to lie,” he said. “I still want to be a star. I thought I’d be a star doctor or a star surgeon. But…”

“Music is your life,” Tanesha said.

Jeraine nodded. He reached out to take her hand.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“I think we have to figure it out,” she smiled.

“There is a difference now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I don’t only want to be a star now,” he said. “Being a star isn’t as important as having you in my life.”

“I’m glad,” she said. She touched his shoulder and got under the covers.

“What have you wanted so badly?” He shifted to look at her.

“Med school,” Tanesha rolled onto her side to look at him. “When I wasn’t able to go last year, I… It was hard.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” he said. “It’s like whatever you do, no matter how hard you try, your dream is still just out of reach. I felt that way about you.”

“Me?”

“You,” he said. “This time, these weeks, days, they’re like a dream come true for me. I dreamed and wished and wanted just this, just tonight – dinner, dancing with friends, making love with you and…”

Tanesha held her arms out and he fell into her embrace. They held each other for a moment.

“It’s about commitment,” he said. “I didn’t get it until this morning. If I want something, I have to commit to being and having the thing I want. That’s the way it really works.”

Tanesha kissed his forehead.

“I didn’t know that before,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “And now?”

He closed his eyes and she shook her head.

“Still can’t do it,” she said. “Even now when your dream has come true. I do not know why I waste my time.”

She moved to get up. He held her in place.

“No, that’s not it,” Jeraine said. “No. I was trying to think of how to say it.”

Watching his face, Tanesha fought with herself. Her instinct was to run away from this heart breaker as fast as possible. That was her part in this dance. They’d danced it a hundred and one times. But tonight, she saw something new on his face. She waited for him to find the words.

“I think I’ve always been committed to you, to us,” Jeraine said. “I remember like it’s in crystal – our first kiss, our first date, the first time we spent a whole night together. My commitment has always been to you but…”

“But…?”

“It made me anxious,” he said. “I didn’t know I could have you and… I thought…”

“It was one or the other,” Tanesha said.

He nodded.

“You put us, me, in the way of your dream,” she said.

He nodded.

“So you had to destroy us to have your dream,” she said.

He nodded.

“You’re a fool,” she said.

“I am?” he asked.

“Your dreams come from us, from this,” she gestured to him and to herself.

“It does?”

“Go look at those fancy records on the wall.”

Getting out of bed, she took his hand and led him out of their bedroom to the hallway. She flicked on the light. The light flashed on the gold and platinum albums and singles that lined both walls in the hallway.

“Look at the singles,” she said. He looked at her. “Go on.”

He didn’t move. She pushed him toward the wall.

“What am I looking at?” he asked.

“What are these songs about?” she nodded toward the wall.

He looked at her and looked at the wall.

“Just look at them,” she said. “I’m going to make some tea.”

Tanesha went into the kitchen. The tea pot was already warm from the cup she’d made when they got home. She took out a chamomile tea bag and her favorite mug. She had just poured the hot water when he appeared.

“They’re songs about you,” he said.

“About us,” she said.

“And?”

“We are your creative power,” Tanesha said.

Putting her tea up to her lips, she watched the thought work across his face.

“I’ve been fighting against myself, the source of my own strength,” he said.

“How many songs have you written since I’ve been staying here?” she asked.

“About thirty,” he said.

“That seems like a lot.” She wasn’t sure if it was the drugs that addled his brain or that he literally didn’t get it. He gave her a blank stare. “Is it normal for you to write so much?”

“No but I’m not…”

“And why aren’t you?”

His eyes blinked. He was silent so long she wondered if he was having a stroke.

“You do this to me,” he said.

“We have a power, a strength that we can only access through each other,” she said.

“Oh.”

“Imagine what you could do if you really committed here,” she said. “You think about it. I’m going to take a bath to wash some of this man off me.”

Carrying her tea, Tanesha walked around him to the bathroom. She filled the tub with the bubblegum bubbles Katy had given her for her birthday. She was just getting settled when he came in.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not as successful as I could be because I don’t have us.”

“Of course,” she said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to learn to stop fighting my commitment to you and us,” he said. “I left a message for my therapist saying I want to talk about this so I don’t forget or chicken out.”

Tanesha nodded. Lost in thought, he stood by the side of the tub.

“Are you coming in?”

“You’ll just get more man on you,” he said.

“Maybe I just want some more of that power that comes through you,” Tanesha smiled.

Shaking his head at her, he joined her in the tub.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday early morning – 2:45 A.M.

“Finally,” Ava said when she saw Seth at the entrance to her lab. She ran to let him in. They hugged.

“I have a few things to finish,” Ava said.

“No problem.” Using one cane, Seth followed her to her lab bench. “Why is your door locked?”

Ava was cataloging a rack of test tubes in front of her.

“Too many visitors,” Nelson said.

“You had visitors in the lab?” Seth asked.

“No one likes the fact that the great Magic O’Malley quit.” Fran pulled her jacket on to leave. “They’re blaming our Ava.”

“They are?” Seth asked.

“The poor girl has been inundated with bitchy policemen whining about your resignation. The temp that’s taking Leslie’s place while she’s on maternity leave lasted an hour tonight.”

“Yeah but she didn’t like how we work,” Ava said. “With am emphasis on work.”

“And the stream of angry cops.” Ever the mother, Fran’s voice was scolding. “You should have thought it through O’Malley.”

“Fran,” Ava said.

“Well he should have,” Fran squeezed Ava’s shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

“These are ready for next shift.” Nelson gave Ava a test tube rack filled with samples.

“I’ll add them to mine,” Ava said.

Standing next to Ava, Nelson gave Seth a bright smile.

“Did you really quit?” Nelson asked. “Or did you do it as a power play to get them off your back?”

“What are the odds?” Seth asked.

“Twenty’ll get you fifty,” Nelson said.

“With what else?”

“You got a job offer in LA,” Nelson said. “Everybody’s talking about it. They made an arrest in that case you’re working on.

“They did?” Seth asked.

“You didn’t know?” Nelson smirked at the idea he knew something Seth didn’t.

“My daughter had her baby today,” Seth said. “I’ve been with her.”

“I forgot. Ava said something,” Nelson said. “Your daughter. She’s okay?”

“She’s doing well,” Seth said.

“New grandchild?”

“Colin Hargreaves and his wife adopted him,” Seth said. “Everyone is happy, healthy and well.”

“Good,” Nelson said.

“You were telling me,” Seth said. “The LAPD arrested the gal?”

“How’d you know?” Nelson asked. “That’s the kicker. The strangler is a woman, wife of the chief suspect. They matched her DNA after they brought her in. LA Weekly is saying you solved the case.”

“They had female DNA but they thought it was another victim,” Seth said. “That’s good work. I’ll have to give them a call.”

Nelson smiled at him.

“What?” Seth asked.

“So which is it?” Nelson asked.

“How much do you have riding on it?” Seth asked.

“We all put in ten bucks,” Nelson said. “Everyone but Ava. Bob put in her ten bucks.”

“And what does Ava say?”

“She says that O’Malley does whatever O’Malley wants to do,” Nelson said. “So?”

“I quit,” Seth said. “Ava’s right. I don’t do power plays and there’s too much celebrity drama at the LAPD.”

“Good,” Nelson said.

“That’s what the lab money is on?” Seth asked.

“Yes sir,” Bob’s booming voice came from the back of the lab. He came up carrying his briefcase. Bob shook Seth’s hand. “Nice to see you Seth.”

“See you tomorrow,” Nelson said.

Ava and Bob waved to Nelson.

“Today was bad?” Seth asked.

“Pretty rough,” Bob said. “And who are we going to call? The police? That would only bring more angry cops.”

“They say that I’m responsible for the end of luck at DPD,” Ava said.

“Magic O’Malley brought the DPD luck,” Bob said. “Let’s hope no one dies tonight. You’re going to walk Amelie out?”

Seth nodded.

“Nice to see you up and around Seth,” Bob said. “Few more days and I bet you won’t need that cane.”

Seth waved. Ava continued working.

“You’re mad,” he said.

“Mad’s not exactly the right word,” Ava said.

“Are you mad at me?” Seth asked.

“By association,” Ava said.

“You could quit too,” Seth said.

Turning, Ava gave Seth a strong dark look and went back to her test tubes.

“Yeah, bad idea,” Seth said. “What are we doing this weekend?”

“How’s Lizzie?” Ava asked.

“She’s good,” Seth said. “They think she’ll be well enough to go home tomorrow if she wants. Schmidty wants to take her to the beach house. If she gets out, they’ll go tomorrow. What would you like to do?”

Ava kept working.

“You are mad,” Seth said. “What can I do?”

“What are you going to do with yourself, Seth?” Ava asked. “And don’t tell me you’re going to stay at home. You won’t. You’ll either go on some cockamamie Seth-a-palooza music tour or…”

“I’m going to finish the movie,” Seth said. “I’m going to get better and I’m going to get married. That’s enough to fill up the rest of this year and some of next.”

Ava sniffed.

“To you, if you’re wondering,” Seth said. “And when all of that is done and we’ve celebrated and settled back in, I’ll see what’s next.”

Ava set the racks of test tubes in the refrigerator.

“I told you all of that when we talked a few days ago,” Seth said.

Ava got her purse and jacket.

“So why are you mad?” Seth asked.

“What am I supposed to do while you do all of this?” Ava asked.

“Pursue your dreams,” Seth said. “Work here or where ever you want to work. Grieve the loss of your best friend in the whole world. Play with our puppy Clara. That’s enough.”

Ava shook her head at him and went toward the door.

“So what’s wrong?” Seth asked.

“It’s not my fault you quit,” Ava said.

“No, it’s not,” Seth said.

“Will you tell the men that?” Ava asked.

“I don’t know what good it will do, but I will do what I can,” Seth said. “Anything I can do to make it better for you?”

“Dinner,” Ava said.

“Dinner is waiting for us at home.”

“Hot tub?” Ava asked.

“Done,” Seth said. “Anything else?”

Ava gave him a wry smile. Without saying another word, she left the lab. Smiling, he followed her out.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday afternoon — 2:15 P.M.

Tanesha looked up when the doorbell rang again. She watched one of Jeraine’s ‘people’ answer the door. The penthouse was filling with men who were there to help Jeraine get ready for his event. His hair had been cut. He’d had a facial and was sporting a fashionable beardlike line of growth along his chin. He was trying to decide whether to wear four hundred dollar jeans and a four thousand dollar shirt or a ten thousand dollar silk suit. She felt like she had a backstage ticket to the Miss America pageant. She’d even overheard a conversation about the best eyeliner for men with ‘dark complexions.’

He’d gone through this almost every single day of his former life. Reviewing his finances, he’d spent enough money on his face alone to build a couple schools inCentral America. He said it was necessary to ‘participate at this level of life.’ She thought it was dumb and excessive.

The people moved around the penthouse as if she wasn’t there. As far as they were concerned, they belonged and she was replaceable furniture. Tanesha scowled at the thought and went out onto the balcony over the park. She’d been out there an hour or so, when he arrived wearing the fancy jeans and expensive shirt. He had a gold chain around his neck, huge diamond earrings in his ears, and heavy diamond and gold bracelets on both wrists.

“We’re about to leave,” he sat down in the chair next to her. She ignored him. Leaning over to her, he said, “Ok, that whole drama was dumb.”

“You’re shirt cost more than my car,” Tanesha said.

“We should get you a better car,” he said.

She gave him an angry look and he laughed.

“One more night,” Jeraine said. “Then we figure out what’s next.”

Tanesha watched his face.

“I just have one more night of this, Miss T,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to church and have brunch with your friends. You have orientation for med school Monday and I have orientation on Friday. We start demo on our house Monday morning bright and early.”

Tanesha nodded.

“After tonight, we’ll get on with our lives,” he said.

“Are you going to bring all that trash here tonight?” Tanesha asked. “’Cuz I’ll stay at my Gran’s.”

“No,” Jeraine said. “I’m going to do a couple promotions for the radio station, have dinner with record people, and go to the event. I should be done by eleven. Midnight at the latest.”

“Are you bringing a bunch of skanks here?”

“Why would you even say that?” Jeraine asked.

Shaking her head, Tanesha rolled her eyes at him.

“Ok, fine,” he said. “I will be here at our penthouse by midnight, clean, sober and ready to get on with our life. What are you doing?”

“Tres and I are having dinner at the Castle,” Tanesha said. “Jill’s grandfather’s in town so they’re having everybody over. Tres and I might go to a movie later.”

“Are you bringing him back here when you’re done?”

Tanesha gave him a dark look and he laughed.

“Love you, Miss T,” Jeraine said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She stood to kiss and hug him. When he stepped away, she sat down. She listened while his ‘posse’ made their way out of the penthouse and, she hoped, out of her life. She stayed on the balcony for a few more minutes before going into the bedroom and packing a bag.

Her heart already knew what would happen tonight. Her eyes and mind didn’t want to see it. She gave this life one last look and went to her Gran’s house.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday afternoon — 4:15 P.M.

“You sure you want me to be there?” Ava said.

She and Seth were driving down Broadway toward the downtown Denver Police Headquarters.

“If you want to make sure no one blames you, you should be at the press conference,” Seth said. “Jeez, what’s that?”

Seth pointed to a line formed around the Church nightclub.

“They’re waiting to see Jeraine,” Ava said. “You’re sure we have tickets?”

“We have tickets,” Seth said. “That’s a lot of people.”

“The station’s been playing his music non-stop,” Ava flipped on the radio and ran the dial to the station. Seth groaned when the heavy base kicked in. Her hand moved to turn it off.

“Wait,” Seth said. “What’s that?”

“Jeraine’s new song,” Ava said. “Someone slipped it to someone at the radio station. Very hush, hush. Everyone says Jeraine can’t leave the life but… Isn’t that Tanesha’s voice at the end? You know where she says, ‘Jer? Whatcha doin’ out here?’ and he says ‘Nothing.’”

Seth sat listening to the song.

“I like the orchestra,” Ava said. “It sounds like something you’d write.”

“I need to make some calls,” Seth said.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at  Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

CHAPTER 181

Friday morning – 10:45 A.M.

“You’re saying you’ll sell me this house for what you paid for it,” Jeraine’s eyes scanned Jacob’s face. They were standing in the middle of the kitchen of the little house in Five Points. “And you got it for fifteen thousand under the bank’s asking price.”

“They want me to buy a larger building,” Jacob said. “I’d need to move it so… I haven’t decided.”

Jeraine’s eyebrows went up.

“He thinks you’re trying to cheat him,” Tanesha said. “Cocaine. It’s rotted your brain, Jer.”

“Come on.” Trying to keep from laughing, Jill took Tanesha’s arm. “Let’s check out the backyard.”

The women laughed their way out of the house.

“Why would I cheat you?” Jacob asked.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Jeraine asked. “You’re a rich white man. I’m a dumb n…”

“Jake?” a woman’s voice came from the front of the house.

“We’re in here,” Jacob said.

Jeraine turned toward the front door. A middle aged woman in a flowery dress came in the house. He knew he’d met her somewhere before.

“You’re right,” Delphie said. “There’s an ugly darkness here.”

She smiled at him as if she’d known Jeraine all his life.

“Are you ready to get to work?” Delphie asked.

“We have some b-dness to work out,” Jeraine sniffed at the funny white woman.

“I liked you a lot better when you were Jermaine,” Delphie laughed.

Puzzled, Jeraine looked down at the silly woman. It wasn’t until Jacob looked away to keep from laughing that he remembered how he knew Delphie.

“The girls are in the garden?” Delphie asked.

Jacob nodded.

“I’ll go out while you finish your important business.”

Delphie gave a little wave and laughed her way out to the backyard. They heard Tanesha and Jill laugh.

“Relay,” Jeraine said. “Second leg. And that’s your Mom’s best friend. She used to make us…”

“Brownies,” Jacob said.

“Joystick Jake.” Nodding, Jeraine put his hands on his hips.

“Nympho Jer,” Jacob said.

“Hey,” Jeraine said. “You were just as bad as me.”

“I wasn’t married,” Jacob said.

“True dat,” Jeraine opened his mouth to explain. Seeing the look on Jacob’s face, he closed his mouth.

“Tanesha is my family now,” Jacob raised his eyebrows at Jeraine.

“Got it,” Jeraine said. “And I’m doing my best.”

“This is her house,” Jacob said.

“Everything I have is hers,” Jeraine cleared his throat. “I always wanted her to come home.”

“You’re still talking?” Tanesha walked in from the back.

Jeraine and Jacob looked at her.

“Let me clear this up,” Tanesha said. “His dick is bigger than yours, Jeraine.”

“How would you know?” Jeraine asked.

“Joystick Jake has a reputation.” Tanesha laughed. “Pay the man so we can get on with it.”

“Get on with what?” Jeraine asked.

“We’re going to clear the dark funk out of this place,” Tanesha said. “Rodney’s coming by to help. Delphie was just telling us how to do it.”

“If you’re going to live here, you have to help,” Jill gave him a laughing smile.

“Otherwise the good energy will reject you,” Tanesha said.

“And my small dick?” Jeraine asked.

“That’s it,” Tanesha looked him up and down before laughing.

“You have to own the house before we can clean it,” Delphie said. “Jake doesn’t really care if you buy it or not. He got it for Tanesha. But in order for us to make it yours, you need to make the commitment to own it.”

“What is she talking about?” Jeraine asked.

“Commitment,” Jacob said. “Can you commit to this house?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Jeraine looked at Jacob then Tanesha. Panic rose through his core. He rubbed his lips together to keep from saying something he knew Tanesha would think was crazy. His eyes sought a way out of the small kitchen. “What are you asking?”

Jill stood in front of him. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. Offended by her touch, he grabbed her hands and looked down at her.

“Listen to your soul,” she said.

His eyes locked on hers. Thoughts and images flashed through his mind. After a few moments, he took a breath and she stepped back. Tanesha took her arm. Jill gave her an ‘it’s done’ nod.

“How much did you say it was?” Jeraine asked.

“It was listed for fifty thousand,” Jacob said. “I got it for thirty-five.”

“Do you want a check or can I wire the money to you?” Jeraine asked.

“If we make it what you want, we’re talking about putting at least another hundred thousand into the house,” Jacob said. “Is that doable?”

“Oh sure,” Jeraine said. “You’ll bill me when we’re done or as we go.”

“You’ll be over market for this house and this neighborhood,” Jacob said.

“But you think I can get that music studio in the basement,” Jeraine said.

“Music studio?” Tanesha asked. “What?”

“I didn’t tell you?” Jeraine asked. “The basement is perfect for a studio. Come on. I’ll show you.”

Jeraine opened to the basement door and jogged down the steps. Jacob followed him.

“What did you do?” Tanesha whispered.

“He was stuck wanting to be famous,” Jill whispered. “I just caught him up to the present.”

“And commitment?”

“He wanted so badly to be successful, he couldn’t commit to his life for fear it would get in the way,” Jill said. “Like I said he was stuck.”

“Are you going to whisper up there forever or come and see?” Jeraine yelled from the basement.

“This is a good thing?” Tanesha whispered.

Jill nodded. Tanesha squeezed her arm.

“You girls go on,” Delphie said. “I’ll get set up here.”

Tanesha was on the basement stair landing when she heard Jeraine say the words she’d longed for:

“This is a great house.”

Smiling, she went to hear about his music studio.

~~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon – 1:45 P.M.

Charlie swallowed hard. He was sitting in the administrative office of Denver Online High School. He had just finished his last assessment test and they were running his scores right now. If everything went well, he would meet with an advocate to plan his attack at finishing high school. He looked across the waiting room at Sandy. She gave him a soft smile and a nod.

Sandy thought it was all going to be all right.

He glanced at Teddy, Noelle and Nash. Squashed together on the couch, they were playing Angry Birds on Nash’s iPhone. Everyone was supposed to come to his meeting with the advocate but Sissy had to talk to the psychiatrist, La Tonya, they’d met last night. Anjelika was supposed to bring her when she was done. Aden was speaking with the school administrator about getting Charlie a try out for Basketball at East High School.

Everything depended on how he did on these last tests.

He’d really worked this summer. When he started, he worked hard so he could stay with Sandy and Aden. He did not want to go back on the streets. No way. No how. Plus, he made an agreement with Nash and Teddy. After a while, he found he actually liked his time with Anjelika.

He didn’t want to disappoint Anjelika by not getting into school.

His anxiety surprised him. Charlie Delgado had always been too cool to care about school. He was the Pan who did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And he never wanted to go to school. He couldn’t figure out why he cared so much now.

He just did.

“Charlie?” a friendly looking woman asked.

“I’m Charlie,” he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sissy and Anjelika enter the waiting room.

“You’re all set,” the woman said.

“Yea!” Sissy ran in the room to hug him. She grunted with pain when he squeezed her. Nash and Teddy high fived each other and came to congratulate him. Noelle hugged him around the waist. Anjelika put her hands on his face, nodded, and smiled. He collapsed into Sandy’s arms.Adenpatted him on the back.

“Are you ready to get started?” the woman asked.

“I’m ready,” Charlie said.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening – 7:45 P.M.

Giggling, Katy ran as fast as she could. Paddie caught up to her and ran ahead. She followed him through the first floor of his Auntie Alex’s big house. Katy didn’t know why all these adults were here or why she’d been left here. She only knew she got to play with Paddie.

Paddie’s Auntie Samantha caught him and his Irish Uncle with a funny name caught her.

“Have you two been eating my cookies?” the Irish Uncle asked.

Katy and Paddie shook their heads.

“Why are your faces covered in powdered sugar?” Auntie Samantha asked.

“Our faces always look like this,” Paddie said.

Katy gave her most sincere nod.

“Is that the truth, Pádraig?” the Irish Uncle asked.

“I’m Paddie,” Paddie pointed to his chest. “Not that other name.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then you can have all the cookies you’d like,” the Irish Uncle laughed.

Katy and Paddie squealed. The adults put them down and Paddie took off toward the kitchen. Katy followed close behind. Once in the kitchen, Paddie grabbed another cookie and ran into the living room. Katy took a cookie and followed him. He was scooped up by his Auntie Alex.

“Your brother is almost here,” she said to Paddie. “Aren’t you excited?”

With his mouth full of cookie, Paddie nodded.

“Alex?” Paddie’s grandmother asked from the other room. “Can you bring Paddie? We need to get him dressed for pictures.”

Paddie gave Katy a panicked look as he disappeared into the other room.  Katy smiled. They were going to make him wear something horrible like an itchy sweater or something fancy to meet his new brother.

All of the adults were so busy worrying about Paddie’s new brother that they ignored her. That was all right with Katy. Seeing someone she wanted to talk to, she went over to the couch. She made the person sitting next to him feel like they had to pee. When that guy got up, she sat down.

“Hello Katy,” Paddie’s Grandfather said. “How are you tonight?”

“Good,” Katy said.

“Where’s Paddie?” Paddie’s Grandfather said.

“He has to wear an itchy sweater or something,” Katy said.

Paddie’s Grandfather laughed.

“We’re pretty excited to have a new member of the family,” Paddie’s Grandfather said.

“I’m going to have little brothers,” Katy said. “I’m pretty excited about that.”

“I bet,” Paddie’s Grandfather said. “Paddie will have a new brother tonight.”

Katy smiled. They sat watching the people laugh and talk for a few minutes.

“Well, I should probably go find Paddie,” Paddie’s Grandfather moved to get up.

“Um, I came over to talk to you,” Katy smiled to encourage him to talk to her.

“What can I do?” Paddie’s Grandfather asked.

“It’s about Paddie,” Katy said. “He’s not ever going to be a good soldier. He’s too soft inside.”

“He’s absolutely fearless,” Paddie’s Grandfather said. “I think…”

“That’s because of me,” Katy said. “I keep him out of danger.”

Paddie’s Grandfather turned to look at her.

“Paddie will go to war to make you happy,” Katy said. “But he will die inside doing it. He’s like your brother Cedric.”

“Cedric,” Paddie’s Grandfather said his brother’s name very slowly. “How…?”

“Paddie can stay home instead,” Katy said. “He can be a teacher like his Mommy or a scientist or…”

Katy shook her head.

“But not a soldier,” Katy said. “You were going to decide soon, weren’t you?”

“He’s three. It’s time for him to separate from his mother,” Paddie’s Grandfather said. “I thought he could…”

“He can’t,” Katy said. “It would hurt him, on the inside, hurt him bad.”

“But…?” Paddie’s Grandfather started.

“Katy! Katy! Katy!” Paddie yelled from the edge of the room. In a forest of adult legs, she couldn’t see him.

“I have to go,” Katy waved to Paddie’s Grandfather and ran toward Paddie’s voice.

Patrick Hargreaves watched the small girl thread her way through the adults. He heard Paddie laugh when she got there. Feeling someone near him, he looked up to see Delphie sit down.

“Unnerving, isn’t she?” Delphie asked.

“How old is she?” Patrick asked.

“She’ll be five in December,” Delphie said.

“Do her… capacities make her so…”

“Grown up?” Delphie smiled. “Some. She’s also been through an awful lot. She’s aged beyond her years. Her mother is adamant that she have a childhood, but some things can’t be made up. Katy is part child, part grandmother. A true oracle. What did she say?”

“She told me Paddie would never be a soldier,” Patrick said. Defending his position, he added, “But how would she know? She’s a child and Paddie is absolutely fearless.”

“That’s because Katy makes sure he’s never hurt,” Delphie said.

“That’s what she said,” Patrick said. “She said Paddie was like Cedric and…”

“Your brother came back fromVietnama changed man,” Delphie said. “He killed himself, didn’t he?”

“Cedric.” Patrick felt the overwhelming sense of sorrow and failure he felt every time he thought of his brother. “He couldn’t handle the… and…”

“You found him,” Delphie said.

“He disappeared. I looked everywhere and…” Patrick shook his head at the image of his brother’s dead body. “Is she right?”

“I’ve never known Katy to be wrong,” Delphie said. “She knows Paddie better than anyone in the world. Loves him completely. She’d know.”

“Is he gay?” Patrick asked.

“Was Cedric?”

“No but…”

“You of all people know that softness and gayness have nothing to do with each other.”

“Sure but… what good does it do him to baby him?”

“Isn’t that what your father said about Cedric?” Delphie gave Patrick a strong look.

Stunned, Patrick’s stared at her.

“He’s here!” Paddie’s Aunt Alex yelled.

The adults cheered.

“Raise a glass to welcome Connor Maxwell Alexander Hargreaves!” Paddie’s Uncle Max said.

“Welcome Connor Alexander Matthew Hargreaves,” Alex said.

The crowd of family laughed and cheered.

“I’ll get Katy,” Delphie moved to get up.

Patrick put his hand on her leg.

“I can save him?” Patrick asked. “Paddie, I mean.”

“If you let Paddie be himself,” Delphie said. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Patrick nodded.

“It’s Katy, not me,” Delphie touched his face. “You’re a sweet man. You’ll do what’s right.”

Patrick nodded to Delphie. Lost in thought, he watched Delphie scoop up Katy. The child cried when she had to go. Crying, Paddie ran after her. Katy and Paddie hugged and Katy was gone. When Paddie turned, he saw his Grandfather watching him. In a move that he’d seen his brother do time and time again, Paddie tucked his tears away.

Patrick Hargreaves understood his grandson for the first time.

His mind replayed what he knew about Paddie. His first grandson was kind, funny, and… loving. He was just as likely to snuggle up as he was to play. Patrick nodded to himself. His job was to protect his grandson’s gentle nature.  He got up and went to Paddie.

“Come on, Paddie,” Patrick said. “I’ll take you to meet your new brother.”

~~~~~~~~

Friday night — 9:45 P.M.

“How are you?” Schmidty asked. He leaned on her hospital bed.

“Tired, a little sore, but really good,” Lizzie said.

He kissed her face. They were alone for the first time since she’d gone into labor at noon. Her Dad, Sandy and Maresol had met them at the hospital around three. Colin and Julie got there closer to six. Together, they had coached, cheered, and loved Lizzie into bringing Connor into the world.

“How do you feel about…” Schmidty scanned her face. “Connor?”

“The moment the doctor set him in Julie’s arms,” Lizzie said. “I…”

Tears fell from her eyes. She shook her head slightly.

“That was really hard,” Schmidty said.

“No,” Lizzie said. “Beautiful. So beautiful. And all the people who came to see him, love him, celebrate him. They…”

Lizzie began to cry. Not sure what to do, Schmidty held her hand.

“You don’t want to give him to them,” Schmidty said.

“He belongs with them,” Lizzie said. “He’s their baby. I just got him this far. They will take him where he needs to go. I feel…”

Schmidty stroked her face.

“Like I witnessed a miracle,” she said. “Like something out of the bible. Like I was involved in something… huge.”

“So you’re still all right with letting them adopt him,” Schmidty said.

“I had him for them,” Lizzie said. “I thought it was true before, but I know it now. Julie’s with him, isn’t she?”

“She hasn’t left him since he was born,” Schmidty said. “Colin took Paddie to the Castle but he’s back. They’re just across the hall. The doctor says they’ll keep Connor overnight. Did you know she’s breast feeding?”

“Isn’t that cool? I didn’t think it was possible but…” Lizzie shrugged. “She’s been pumping for a month and taking some drug to help. I think they belong together.”

“Me too,” Schmidty said.

“How was it for you?” Lizzie asked.

“Amazing,” Schmidty said. “I feel exhausted and charged up at the same time.”

“I know what you mean,” Lizzie said.

“When you’re able, we’ll go back to the beach,” Schmidty said. “You’ll rest. I’ll work. And…”

“We’ll start a real relationship,” Lizzie had told him over and over again that when she had the baby, they would start a real relationship.

“I don’t know Lizzie,” Schmidty said. “I don’t think it gets more real than what we went through today.”

Lizzie beamed at him.

“You need to rest,” Schmidty said.

“I couldn’t have done this without you, Jammy,” Lizzie said.

“Thanks for including me,” Schmidty blushed. “It’s all I ever wanted – to be included in your life.”

“Me too,” Lizzie said.

Schmidty reached over and turned out the light.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at  Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

Chapter 180

Thursday afternoon – 6:15 P.M.

“What happened to your face?” Bumpy asked his son, Jeraine, as he walked into his living room. He kissed his wife, Dionne, and squeezed his pregnant daughter, La Tanya’s shoulder. “Son? I asked you a question.”

“I have a gig on Saturday,” Jeraine said. “I have to grow out my beard so they can style it.”

The room became absolutely still and silent. No one dared move.

“Style it?” Bumpy’s eyebrows went up with surprise. “Style what?”

Tanesha suppressed a giggle. Her laughter was infectious and everyone laughed.

“This is serious business,” Jeraine’s words were defensive, but his voice was filled with laughter. Covering his mouth with one hand, La Tonya’s husband Ben tapped Jeraine’s arm with the back of his other hand. “It’s really your fault.”

“My fault?” Bumpy’s eyes did the indignant parent blink.

“Diddy gets his beard done in a new style every day,” Jeraine sniffed. “If you had a better beard, I wouldn’t have to grow it out for days ahead.”

“Diddy’s father was a pusher who died on the streets,” Bumpy said.

“Your point?” Jeraine raised his eyebrows.

Bumpy put his head back and laughed.  He held his arms out. Jeraine hopped to his feet to hug his father. When they pulled back, Tanesha saw tears in Bumpy’s eyes.

“Nice to see you son,” Bumpy said. “You clean?”

“Am I here?” Jeraine asked.

Bumpy laughed and hugged Jeraine again.

“Nice to see you, Miss T.” He held his arms out for Tanesha. Tall and slender, she felt engulfed by Bumpy’s bear hug. He kissed her cheek.

“Are they staying for dinner?” Bumpy asked Dionne.

“Jer is,” Dionne said. “Tanesha needs some help.”

“Anything,” Bumpy said. “What can I do?”

When the big man’s steely eyes turned to Tanesha, she blushed and looked away. Jeraine put his arm around her.

“You remember Mitch Delgado?” Dionne asked. “His daughter wants desperately to be a ballerina.”

“Sissy?” Bumpy asked. “Seth’s talked about her dancing. He says she’s very talented.”

“Dad,” La Tonya said. “She’s getting big.”

La Tonya gestured to her own ample chest.

“You remember how curvy Patty is,” Dionne said.

“Sissy has an eating disorder. Bad. She almost died last year,” Tanesha’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s been starving herself to keep from having curves like her mom. She told Sandy she’d rather die than not be a ballerina. She…”

Jeraine hugged her when she broke down.

“She tried to cut her breasts off this afternoon,” Dionne said.

“Good Lord,” Bumpy said. “How is she?”

“They stitched her up and she’s at home,” Dionne said.

“I’ll drop by after dinner,” Bumpy said.

“Tanesha asked if I would go to assess her,” La Tonya said. “They’re concerned maybe there’s an underlying mental illness that they missed at the eating disorder clinic.”

Bumpy smiled with pride at his psychiatrist daughter.

“Seth’s coming home,” Dionne said.

“Of course,” Bumpy nodded.

“We were at the hospital, Dad,” Jeraine said. “And I remembered that you’ve met Misty Copeland, you know the prima ballerina for the New York Ballet.”

“She’s a curvy ballerina,” Dionne said.

“I met her through Rodney,” Bumpy said. “Miss T, did you ask your Dad?”

Tanesha shook her head against Jeraine’s chest.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Bumpy said. “We’ll have dinner. La Tonya and I can go visit with Sissy. Seth would want me to do that anyway. I’ll call Rodney and we’ll see if we can’t get Misty Copeland to give Sissy a visit. How’s that?”

“Sounds good,” Dionne stretched up to kiss her husband. He smiled.

“If it’s all right with you, sir,” Tanesha said. “I’d like to go to the Castle now.”

“Of course, of course,” Bumpy said.

“They’re waiting for me,” Tanesha said.

“We’re not the kind of people who stand between a person and what’s on their plate,” Bumpy said.

“How can we help?” Dionne asked.

“I think you already have,” Tanesha smiled.

“Son?” Bumpy nudged Jeraine. “Why don’t you take her? We’ll wait dinner for you.”

Jeraine nodded. He put his arm around Tanesha and led her to her car. Tanesha had pulled so far into herself that Jeraine kept silent most of the drive. He parked in front of the enormous house onRace Street.

“We should get a house like this,” Jeraine joked. “Big, beautiful, and…”

“I like the house by my Gran’s” Tanesha said.

Seeing how upset she was, Jeraine didn’t continue his joke.

“We’re doing a walk through with Jake and Jill tomorrow right?” Jeraine asked.

Tanesha nodded. He stroked her face and she looked at him.

“What’s got you?” he asked.

“Self loathing,” Tanesha said. “Sissy has everything I wanted as a kid. She’s white, pretty, talented, smart, she even has a loving family. I mean, her Dad’s dead and her mother’s crazy, but she has Sandy and Aden. I would have given an arm to have that or even someone like me who cared. But all of that stuff I wanted so bad… inside she feels like I felt.”

Moved by her words, Jeraine could only look at her. Tanesha was lost in thought. He touched her chin. She gave him a soft smile.

“I’m going to do something about this in my life,” Tanesha said. “And you’re going to write a song to help people with it.”

“If you say so,” Jeraine said. “I think I’m going to be pretty busy with school.”

“Maybe the best way for you to help people is to keep making music,” Tanesha said.

Not willing to defend her statement, she gave him a peck on the lips and left the car. Surprised, he watched her go through the gate. She waved at the door and disappeared.

It had never occurred to him that he might be able to make music and have Tanesha in his life. He gladly gave up music to be with her. She was all that mattered to him.

What if he could have a whole, full life with her and have music too? His father had never been able to do it. When Jeraine was in treatment, Bumpy had attended a few of his therapy sessions. His father had told him of his own struggles with sex and drugs while he was a touring musician. Bumpy’s choice was to have a family and a medical practice over his music career.

But Jeraine wasn’t his father and Tanesha was not his mother.

He stared at the door she’d disappeared through for another moment. Shrugging, he made a U-turn and headed back toward five points. Stopping at Seventeenth, he felt his hands tap against the steering wheel. His mouth hummed a tune. By the time he reached his parents’ home, he had the hook. If he wrote a song for Sissy, it would sounds something like…

Smiling at himself, he went to have dinner with his family.

~~~~~~~~

Thursday afternoon – 6:35 P.M.

Knocking on her father’s hotel door, Anjelika glanced down the hallway. Her father was staying at the Warwick Hotel courtesy of the CIA. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the rest of his life. She knew he hoped to spend his time inDenverwith her and her children. They were his only remaining family and he was aging fast.

The door opened and his bodyguard filled the entryway. He gave her a grudging nod and moved aside so she could step into the suite.

“Leave us,” she said to the bodyguard in Russian.

The bodyguard looked at her father and he nodded. The man went out onto the patio to smoke.

“You are angry,” her father said in Russian.

“The child got so anxious about meeting you that she tried to cut off her breasts,” Anjelika said in Russian.

Her father nodded as if it was expected.

“She cannot be a prima ballerina with her shape,” her father said. “Ivan has been very concerned. He has been watching her diet and keeping her exercises up.”

“Watching her diet?” Anjelika felt the blood rush to her face. “Keeping her exercise up? The child has an eating disorder.”

“Most of them do,” her father shrugged.

“She almost died!”

“Greatness requires great sacrifice. She has the potential for greatness.”

“Still the same old monster,” Anjelika spit at him. Spinning in place, she walked toward the door. “You are not welcome here. Without our help, you shall rot in prison where you belong.”

“You’re angry with me,” he said. “For this child? Or for everything else?”

Anjelika stopped in her tracks.

“For everything,” he said. “You are such a child.”

She turned to him. They shared a long angry moment.

“What could you possibly know of greatness?” Anjelika asked. “Greatness is a human endeavor and we both know you are not human.”

He nodded. She wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with her or simply acknowledging her anger. She watched his face. He shrugged.

“We have had a lot of… trouble,” he said.

“I am the only child you have left,” Anjelika said. “All of my siblings, every last one of them, is either dead or in prison. You stole my children from me. They suffered unspeakably. I suffered unspeakably.”

“To live is to suffer,” he said.

“Nietzsche?” Anjelika asked. “You stand in front of your only remaining blood relative and quote Nietzsche?”

“I’ve been with the CIA for a month,” he said. “It has… worn my manners. Please, my angel, sit down with me and share some tea.”

Unsure of his motives, but not willing to back down, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat down on a couch in the sitting area. He watched her movements and repeated her actions. He sat on the couch at an angle to the one she was sitting on. He took out a flask and offered it to her. She shook her head and he poured some into his tea.

“You’re an alcoholic now?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Trying to stabilize myself for our conversation. I’ve always found our arguments to be difficult. You’re smart and cunning like me, but beautiful like your mother. You have her voice. I find Vodka steadies me.”

She gave him a hard smile.

“Yes, fuck me,” he said. “Do you hate me, Anjelika?”

“No,” Anjelika said. “You did what you had to do because of who you are, where you came from and the situation at hand.”

“But?”

“I wish you were a different man,” Anjelika repeated something she’d heard her mother say. Nodding, he acknowledged the thought and her mother.

“I wish I was a different man too,” he said. “Your mother… She always saw the whole of life and death and love. It was one big package and she made every decision from that place. Me? I have always dealt my cards right here, right now. It wasn’t until she was gone that I understood our difference. It wasn’t until you were gone that I saw the gaping hole in my life.”

He shrugged.

“Why did you decided to leaveRussia?” she asked. “Why are you here?”

“Mikhail, actually,” he said. “He also sees the whole of the world – life, death, goodness, badness, humanity. Like your mother. He didn’t know who I was. We played chess while his Valerie was a super hero on a movie set. We argued, a lot. Like his mother, he doesn’t back down or feel intimidated. He looks so much like your mother and Perses. Both. I don’t know, Anjelika. Out of the mouth of your son, I finally understood what I needed to know.”

“Which is what?” Anjelika asked.

“To your original point,” he smiled at her. “Believing perfection is possible is almost like believing in fairies and goblins. I have insisted on perfection all of my life. I have created hell every being that came near me.”

“And this garbage about greatness?” Anjelika asked.

“That’s experience,” he said. “What do you know about greatness?”

“I grew up around greatness all of my life,” Anjelika said. “The greatest violin player. The greatest ballerina. The greatest artist. The greatest murderer. The greatest thug. The greatest…”

“Yes,” he said. “And?”

“Greatness belongs in the world of your fairies and goblins,” Anjelika said. “There is only now, only people doing their best every day. And the world has changed. What was great is no longer.”

“Yes, I have learned that,” he said.

“Sissy will be a great ballerina,” Anjelika said.

“Is that what you’d like me to do? Make that happen?” he asked. “All of this is over this child?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Anjelika said. “She will do it on her own.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked.

“Do you still have your gift?” Anjelika asked.

He nodded.

“We can heal her wound,” Anjelika said.

“And mine as well?” he asked.

“Your wound?” Anjelika asked.

“You could ask anyone to heal her,” he said. “Mikhail can do it. He says Jillian is stronger than he.”

“Why do you think?”

“Because I have a lot in common with this Sissy,” he said. “Because you don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a father who craves only perfection.”

“And you won’t spend a minute of time with my children and their family if you don’t let go of this… fantasy,” she said. “Not one minute.”

“You’ll make that so?”

“I will not allow them to be broken by your insanity.”

“You are your mother’s daughter, then,” he said.

Unsure of what he meant, she focused on her tea.

“And Perses?” he asked. “You know he brought me in.”

“I asked him to,” Anjelika nodded.

Her father was so surprised that he stopped moving. He couldn’t look at her or speak for a moment. He held the tea to his lips then set it down.

“Thank you,” he said.

His eyes held unshed tears. In this moment, the monster was gone leaving an frail, lost old man in his place. He was like a remnant from a time when wars were cold, fought with propaganda, and missiles waited patiently on desolate plains to destroy the world. She smiled.

“Shall we go see the girl?” he asked. “Mikhail and Valerie asked if I would stay for dinner. If you will give me your permission.”

“They live with Delphie,” Anjelika said. “She is an Oracle, a true phenomena. She will know everything. Even you won’t be able to hide.”

“I managed to avoid her when I was here before,” he said.

“You won’t this time,” Anjelika said. “And Bruno?”

“He’s here because, like myself, he has no where else to go,” her father said. “He and I are relics looking for a museum to rust in.”

Anjelika nodded. He went to sliding door to get his bodyguard.

“They call you Otis,” Anjelika said.

“So does my passport,” her father smiled. “I am Otis now.”

Nodding, she moved toward the door.

“You can still call me Papa,” he said.

He touched her back. For the first time in almost twenty years, they embraced.

“Welcome toAmerica, Papa,” Anjelika said. “Now behave.”

Laughing, he followed her and Bruno out of the suite.

~~~~~~~~

Thursday evening – 7:35 P.M.

“That’s five,” Charlie said from his position at the window in Noelle and Sissy’s room. Biting her finger nail, Noelle came to the window to look out.

“There’s two more police cruisers,” she said.

“There six cruisers over here,” Nash yelled the kitchen window.

“What exactly did you do?” Sandy turned to look at Seth.

“I quit the police force,” Seth said. He was sitting on Sissy’s bed holding her hand.

“Why did you quit, Uncle Seth?” Sissy asked.

“I didn’t want to do it anymore,” Seth touched her face. “Some day, you’ll be sick of being a ballerina.”

“If I ever get a chance to be a ballerina, I’ll never get sick of it,” Sissy said. “Never. Ever.”

“Oh you will,” Seth said. “You might never get sick of dancing or performing or using your body in this way. But some day, you’ll get tired of doing the stupid stuff to make some insecure boss happy.”

“What did they want?” Sandy asked.

“End it with Ava,” Seth said. “It’s probably a smart thing to do. She’s young; I’m old; whatever. But I almost died in the service of my city and the Chief wants to control my private life?”

Seth shrugged.

“I didn’t want to do it anymore,” Seth said. “So I quit.”

“Why are the police here?” Aden came in from showing Anjelika and her father down to dinner. He looked from face to face.  “Charlie?”

“Not me,” Charlie pointed to Seth. “There here for him.”

“Seth?”

“I’ll go out in a while to talk to them,” Seth said. “Right now, I’m enjoying my time with Sissy. Was meeting Otis hard?”

“No, he was really nice,” Sissy said. “He said he knew Ivan from Russia and that Ivan brags about me and… I can’t wait to be dancing again.”

Sissy gave a bright smile then a shadow came over her face.

“I feel kind of stupid,” Sissy said.

“We all do stupid things,” Seth said. “Some day I’ll tell you about some of mine.”

Sissy smiled.

“Are you going to be all right?”

“I think I’m going to be all right,” Sissy said.

With her words, Noelle dove onto her bed to hug her. Charlie flopped at the end. Nash and Teddy were close behind.

“They’re like puppies,” Seth said.

Smiling, Sandy nodded.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at  Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and SEVENTY-NINE

“My problem? Oh, since you have a problem, I have to have a problem?”

“No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it’s not good enough,” Jeraine said. “No matter how much I love you, you always find a reason to push me away. I screwed up when we were teenagers and you can’t forgive me.”

“Have you been trustworthy?”

“I have a problem. I’m working on my addiction. And no, I haven’t been trustworthy. But you…”

Frustrated, he stopped talking. They stood inches from each other yet each saw only the depth of their own pain and the deep well of the other person’s problem. Desperate to not lose her again, Jeraine asked:

“Why did you listen to my music this morning?”

“I don’t really know,” Tanesha said. “Something Jill said, I guess.”

“And?”

“You have an incredible talent. Your music is good.”

“And?”

“I was wrong for not listening. You’ve been trying to communicate with me this whole time,” she said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine that you needed me, my help. I just couldn’t fathom it. I still can’t.”

“You’re everything to me, Miss T,” he said.

“I hear what you’re saying,” she said. “I can’t believe that it’s the truth because your actions don’t say ‘Tanesha is my everything.’”

“What do they say?”

“They say: I’m a playa, I’m a gansta, I’m a rich black man who can have anything and anyone I want,” she said. “That’s not ‘I love my girl more than anything.’”

For the first time in all the years they’d had this conversation, and others like it, Jeraine heard what she was saying. His love for her didn’t come across because his actions spoke another language. The truth of her words hit him like fists. His silent understanding encouraged her to say more.

“I remember feeling so loved by you,” Tanesha said. He smiled. “I felt like I was dancing on the petals of a sunflower. Our love was the center. I went out into the world and came back to the warmth of our love. Then you…”

Tanesha’s primal pain welled up so fiercely that she clamped her mouth closed to keep from letting it out into the world.

“I got drunk and fucked a cheerleader,” he said. “And then another girl. And then I did the same thing the next weekend and the one after that. Finally, I did it on the football bus on the way back from a game so that everyone knew.”

“And my center was gone,” she said.

“Do you remember what you told me?”

“I don’t remember much of that time,” Tanesha said. “You got caught. You took a record contract. You left. I know those facts, but memory? Nothing. It’s like a festering sore. I wouldn’t have survived without Jill and Sandy and Heather. Jill filled out my application to Howard. Heather forged my signature and pretended to be me with the admissions people. Sandy paid the fees and worked out my financial aid. I didn’t really wake up until a year or so later. I don’t even remember how I got to college. I’ll have to ask Heather.”

Jeraine watched the memory work its way across her face. When she looked up at him, he gave her a soft smile. Their eyes connected. He could say he was sorry again, but he knew words meant almost nothing to her. Instead, he took her hand and gently lifted it to his lips. She nodded as if she’d heard his regret.

“When everything happened, you told me: ‘You just lost the best thing you will ever have in your life.’ You were right,” he said. “I knew it when you said it and I’ve lived it every single day since then.”

“You were my everything, my center,” she said. “I didn’t have a mother or a father or a sister. I had you and my girls. And then, I didn’t have you; and worse, I found out I never had you. It was all a lie.”

He swallowed hard at her pain.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he said. “You were my center.”

“How can you say I’m your everything and… and… do all of that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I destroyed the only thing that ever mattered to me,” Jeraine said. “I could tell you I have an addiction, which is true. I could tell you how hard it is to recover from the addiction, which is also true. But what’s more true is that I could have stopped and I didn’t. I don’t care about alcohol or drugs or any of that. I don’t lust for it. And I don’t want the girls without it. I could have stopped. I didn’t.”

Tanesha nodded when he admitted one of her main arguments.

“And I don’t know why I didn’t stop. I can make up stuff about us being so young or whatever, but the truth is that I don’t know,” he said. “Do you?”

In all these years of knowing him, he’d never asked her the question. As if to shake the words out, she shook her head.

“You know me better than anyone in this world,” he said. “You have to have some idea.”

Tanesha closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. She gave a slow nod.

“What?”

“Your Dad is an amazing musician,” Tanesha said. “Seth is truly incredible, a one of a kind musical genius that people will still be talking about a hundred years from now. I think it’s hard for you to feel like you’re anything when true greatness is the norm.”

“You were the only good thing I ever did,” he said.

“You didn’t ‘do’ me. I…, um, care about you because of something that’s right here.” Tanesha put her hand on his chest. Gaining her courage, she added, “I love you for you. I think you wanted me to see how awful you were so that I wouldn’t care about you.”

They stood staring at each other for a few moments until he nodded.

“And now?” Tanesha asked. “Are you going to destroy everything again?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Are you going to let me?”

Tanesha’s rage pulsed through her veins. His main point of contention was that she could have stopped the train wreck and she didn’t. Her fists balled and she felt fire shoot from her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, out of no where, Tanesha heard Jeraine’s mother, Mrs. Wilson say: ‘Are you ready to fight for his soul?’ Her rage slipped away.

“What can I do to stop you?” Tanesha asked. “It’s your addiction.”

“You can know that I love you,” Jeraine said. “You can know that if something happens, I didn’t want it to happen; I didn’t make it happen. You can fight this thing with me, on my side, instead of against me.”

“What would have happened if I’d fought on your side when we were in high school?”

“Nothing. I wouldn’t have listened to you,” he said. “You had lost so much, experienced so much, you were so much more mature than me. I had to grow up, a lot, experience things, like prison, before I could even come close to experiencing the things you’d experienced by the time we met. I wouldn’t have gotten it then, but I will now.”

“Why would things be different?”

“Because I’m different,” he said. “Because I’ve been in treatment; hell, I’m still in treatment. Because I know in my mind, heart, body and soul what I want and that’s you.”

Tanesha didn’t say anything.

“It’s a long road, Miss T, but it’s our road,” he said. “When I was putting together the last greatest hits album, I listened to all the songs I’ve written for you and about you. I don’t think I was ready for us when we were kids.”

“And now?”

“What did you hear?”

Tanesha looked away from him.

“What did you hear?” he repeated. He moved her chin with his hand so she was looking at him.

“You get what happened,” she said. “What you did to me, to us, and you… want to make it better.”

Regaining herself, she leaned back.

“But are you going to do the work?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said. “Are you?”

Tanesha nodded. He pulled her into his arms.

“I love you, Miss T,” he said in her ear. “I always have.”

Tanesha began to cry.

“None of that,” he said. “We have to go see some junker of a house.”

Tanesha socked him in the ribs and he laughed.

~~~~~~~~

Thursday morning – 10:15 A.M.

 “I don’t need to hear anymore,” Valerie said.

Sitting in a quiet booth in the back of Annie’s Café, Valerie leaned back so the waitress could set down her apple pie. The waitress gave Honey her gingerbread and set down two slices of berry pies down for Jill and Heather.

“Do you?” Valerie asked Honey.

“No,” Honey said. “There’s no way I’m going to let them experiment on our baby or your daughter or your boys, Jill. No way.”

“So we agree,” Jill said.

“Are you sure?” Heather asked. “I mean, it would mean the world to us, but I…”

“Blane is my friend,” Honey said. “And a really decent guy. If our baby’s cord blood can save him? I’m in.”

“I’m in,” Valerie said. “Absolutely.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jill said. “Blane will be prepped for surgery when you’re in labor Valerie. When Jackie is born…”

“Jackie?” Valerie asked.

“Isn’t that the name you picked out?” Jill asked.

“Jacquotte,” Valerie said. “Like the pirate. How did you know?”

“Like I said when Jackie is born,” Jill winked at Valerie. “Mike and I will do our stuff with the cord and send it to Blane’s operating room with Heather. Same with you Honey.”

“MJ’s working but I get to Skype him tonight,” Honey said.

“Good,” Jill said.

“What are you going to do?” Valerie asked Jill.

“Have the babies at the Castle so no one can take them away for experiments,” Jill said. “My brother Steve is looking into preserving the cord blood.”

“By that time, we’ll know if Blane’s getting better,” Heather said.

“The boys’ cord blood should do the trick,” Jill said. “Or that’s what Blane’s doctor believes.”

Valerie beamed at Jill.

“What?” Heather asked.

“It’s like giving birth to twins,” Valerie flushed with passion.

“Giving life to two people?” Honey asked. “I thought that too.”

“Very cool,” Jill said.

“Now I have to convince Blane,” Heather said.

“Convince me of what?” Blane asked. He set their son, Mack, in the waiting booster seat. He kissed Heather’s cheek and scooted in next to her. “What are we talking about?”

“I went to see the doctors yesterday,” Jill said.

“But…” Blane said.

“Give her a chance to finish,” Valerie said. Sitting across from him, she put her hand over his. “Give her a chance.”

Jill had heard Valerie had a ‘gift’, but she’d never seen it. Watching her manage Blane, there was no mistaking that Valerie was Celia’s powerful daughter. Blane nodded as if he agreed completely. Surprised, Heather raised an eyebrow. She looked at Blane and Valerie then back at Blane.

“I have a rare blood type,” Jill said. “They’re pretty excited to get a chance to explore my genome.”

“Sounds awful,” Blane said.

“I thought so too,” Jill said. “I was about to leave when your doctor took me aside and told me about some cord blood studies.”

“Cord blood is the blood in the umbilical cord,” Heather said. “It contains stem cells and other fabulous things.”

“I remember we donated Mack’s,” Blane said.

“This is your gift returned to you,” Jill said. “There’s a number of studies, I don’t know how many, that show that putting cord blood into the artery that feeds the liver helps the liver recover.”

“Really?” Blane asked.

“Your doctor thinks you’re a good candidate because you don’t drink and you lead a healthy lifestyle,” Jill said.

“The studies show that people heal from liver disease with help from the cord blood,” Heather said.

“And the risks?” Blane asked. “I’ve been in this game long enough to know there’s always some horrible risk.”

“For you? The risk of the surgery,” Jill said. “There’s no risk to us or our babies.”

“What if your babies need their cord blood?” Blane asked.

“We have to trust that some other couple will be willing to donate their baby’s cord blood,” Jill said. “We’re willing to take that risk.”

“We don’t store our own blood; we trust people to donate,” Valerie said. “We’ll do the same for Jackie.”

“I need to confirm with MJ, but I’m sure we are too,” Honey said.

“Valerie is due first,” Jill said. “Then Honey. MJ’s traveling so she doesn’t want to commit before talking to him. But she’s going to talk to him tonight. We’ll know then. The boys and I are last.”

“I’d get all four?” Blane asked.

“We’d have to see how you do,” Heather said. “I looked up the studies after Jill got back from the doctors. Some people got better after one treatment. So we’ll see.”

“If you don’t need it, you won’t get it,” Jill blushed. “But your doctor is likely to want you to have ours.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a mutation against AIDS,” Jill said.

“Jake told me this morning. They want to experiment on you,” Blane said.

“And the babies,” Jill said.

“Of course, we’re not going to let them,” Valerie said.

“I’ll do everything in my power, that’s for sure,” Blane said. “Do you know what the long term prognosis is?”

“No one knows,” Heather said. “They’re tracking the patients but it hasn’t been that long.”

“We’re willing to do what we can,” Valerie’s voice was smooth and cool. “But you have to agree to get the treatment.”

“Doesn’t sound like I have anything to lose,” Blane said. “What do I have to do?”

“I’ll set it up with the doctors,” Heather said.

“There’s an app so we know when each other is in labor,” Jill said. “You’ll get prepped for surgery when Val’s close.”

Blane nodded.

“Then we’ll do it for me,” Honey said. “And Jill’s last.”

Blane’s eyes welled with tears. He looked away from them to keep his emotions in check. Valerie touched his hand and he turned to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I have hope; like I might even see Mack graduate high school.”

The mothers welled up with tears.

“Can I bring you anything?” the waitress asked.

“Let’s celebrate,” Blane said. “I’m buying. What do you think ladies? Milkshakes to go with you pie?”

Valerie and Honey cheered. Not willing to be left out, Mack joined the cheer.

“Milkshakes all around for my mothers,” Blane said. “And my baby Mack.”

Heather hugged him.

~~~~~~~~

Thursday afternoon – 2:15 P.M.

“Ok, I just have to change,” Sissy said to Sandy. “Then you’ll take me, right?”

“You have to hurry,” Sandy said. “Ivan’s already waiting for you. He wanted us there ten minutes ago.”

“I know! I know!” Sissy said. “I was late getting off work and…”

She ran past Noelle, Teddy, and Nash. Everyone in her family was there to see her dance. Except Rachel, of course. Rachel was a daycare.  But everyone else would be there to see her shine. Today was her big day.

“Just go,” Sandy said.

Sissy hopped in the shower. Today was Sissy’s big break. Mike’s grandfather had come all this way fromRussiaand wanted to see her dance. While she knew he hadn’t come just for her, his visit was all Ivan had talked about for the last month. They had practiced and practiced and practiced. Every little thing had to be perfect because, as Ivan said, one good word in the right ear from this man and her future as a prima ballerina was set.  Seth had toldSandyto wait until he was home, but Mike’s grandfather wanted to see her today.

She toweled off quickly. Standing in the mirror, she smiled at herself.

Today was her day!

She was going to shine!

And her future would be…

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw something on her chest. Sissy screeched at the top of her lungs.

What were those?!?

Overnight, two blobs had grown on her chest. They weren’t there last night. But today, her big day, these bulbous growths had appeared.

Her eyes cast around the bathroom until they landed on her Dad’s old straight razor. Sandy was teaching Charlie to shave. The razor would work perfectly to get rid of these globs. With swift motions, she slashed at the dream wreckers.

“Sissy no!” Sandy yelled.  Small but strong, Sandy grabbed for Sissy’s forearms. Sissy fought with her.

“Nothing’s going to stop me on my big day,” Sissy waved the razor around trying to cut off her breasts. She caught the edge ofSandy’s forearm before Sandy caught hold of Sissy’s flailing hand.

“Help! Someone help!” Sandy screamed.

“Oh my God,” Noelle said from the doorway. “Daddy! Nash! Charlie! Help!”

Charlie reached Sissy first. He wrenched the razor from her tight grasp and threw it into a corner. While Sandy struggled to keep hold of Sissy’s wrists, he grabbed her from behind.  The force of his movements combined with his weight and they hit the floor. They slid across the tile until his back hit the wall next to the toilet. He wrapped his legs over hers and held her arms back in a physical restraint. Sissy howled like a caged animal. Sandy pressed her hands over Sissy’s largest wound.

“Oh my God,” Aden stood in the doorway. “Noelle call 911. Nash get the first aid kit gauze and bandages. Teddy help Sandy with the bleeding.”

Teddy gave him a panicked look.

“I know she’s naked,” Aden said. “Just don’t look.”

Aden shoved a towel into Teddy’s hand and nudged him toward Sissy. Teddy put the towel over one of Sissy’s wounds and his hand over the other.

“But it’s my big day!” Sissy screamed. “I can’t miss my big day!”

“Shh, Sissy, shh,” Sandy smoothed her long wet hair. “We never get just one day. Everything is going to be all right.”

“Come on Sis,” Charlie said. “Breathe with me. Like we learned in treatment.”

Nash ran in with bandages. Seeing there was no way to intervene, he stood in the doorway with Noelle. As she was cold, Noelle moved closer to him. He put his arm around her.

“I don’t want to breathe! I want to get these things off me so I can be a ballerina!” Sissy said. “I want to be a ballerina. I can’t be a ballerina like this. All I ever wanted to be in my whole life was to dance. Now, I can’t.”

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Charlie said. “You can be a ballerina.”

“You’re safe, Sissy,” Sandy said. “Everything is fine. Let’s breathe with Charlie.”

“But…”

“This is your eating disorder talking, Sissy,” Aden kneeled down in front of her. “You’re at that crazy place. You have to fight it.”

“She didn’t eat this morning,” Sandy said.

“I haven’t seen her eat in a couple days,” Noelle said.

Aden held Sissy’s head between his large hands. Sissy’s eyes flicked back and forth like a trapped animal.

“Look at me, Sissy,” Aden said. “This is your eating disorder talking. You’re a beautiful young woman who will be a gorgeous prima ballerina one day. You know that in your heart. Listen to your heart.”

“You know that Sissy,” Charlie said.

“You already are a ballerina,” Noelle said from the doorway. “You’re an amazing dancer.”

Sissy’s eyes blinked then blinked again. The screaming panic her head began to ease. She heard Charlie and Sandy counting breaths. She sawAden’s face. His brow was furrowed with worry but his eyes were kind. She tried to look away but he held her head in place.

“I can’t do it,” Sissy whispered.

“Yes, you can and we’ll help,” Aden took up the breathing exercise. “Deep breath. Sissy, do it.”

Sissy took a deep breath.

“Count with me,” Charlie said. “One, two, three, four. Let it out – one, two, three, four.”

At the last out breath, Sissy began to sob.

“I love you, Sissy,” Sandy said. “Just as you are.”

“They’re here,” Nash said.

Aden kissed her forehead.

“We’re going to get out of the way,” Aden said. “But we’re right here with you every step of the way.”

The paramedic’s hand covered Teddy’s hand. He nodded and Teddy moved out of the room. Noelle hugged Teddy with one arm while still holding onto Nash with the other.

“Is she going to die?” Noelle whispered.

“Of course not,” Delphie said from the hallway. “Come on. Let’s make some cookies for everyone while this is settled.”

“But…?” Noelle looked back at the bathroom.

“Let them handle this,” Delphie said.

The paramedic bandaged the wound on Sandy’s forearm and went to work on Sissy.

“How is she?” Aden asked.

“She’ll be just fine,” the paramedic said. “When her emotion wears off, she’ll be in a lot of pain. Did she do this to herself?”

“She has an eating disorder,” Aden said. “We keep track of what she eats but it sounds like she slipped this week.”

The paramedic nodded and quickly set up an IV.

“Suicide?” the second Paramedic asked.

“No,” Sandy said. “She has an eating disorder.”

“She’s done this before?” the first paramedic asked.

“No, never,”Sandy said at the same time Charlie said, “Yes.”

Surprised, Sandy’s head jerked to look at Charlie.

“You can let go,” The paramedic put his hand over Sandy’s.

“She used to cut herself,” Charlie said. “About five years ago.”

“We can stop the bleeding,” the second paramedic said to Aden. “But if it was my daughter, I’d call a Plastic Surgeon and have him do the stitches. That way, you’ll minimize the scars.”

“You can let go,” the first paramedic said to Charlie. “She’s sedated.”

“Charlie?” Sissy slurred. “Don’t go. ‘K?”

“I won’t leave you,” Charlie said.

“Oh my God! Sandy look at your arm,” Sissy said. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry,” Sandy said. “We’ll go with you. Tomorrow morning all of this will just be a memory.”

“We have everything bandaged,” the second paramedic said to Sandy. “Why don’t you find her something to wear?”

Nodding, Sandy went into Sissy’s room to find some sweats.

“Sir, we can take her out on a stretcher,” the paramedic said. “But with the stairs…”

“I’ll carry her,” Aden said.

Sandy came in with underwear and sweats. They got Sissy dressed then Aden carried her down the stairs to the ground floor. Charlie and Sandy trailed behind him. The paramedics loaded Sissy into the ambulance, Charlie and Sandy got in.

“We’ll meet you there,” Aden said. “I’ll pick up Rachel.”

Sandygave him a sad wave and the paramedic closed the ambulance door. Aden turned to go back in when he ran into Sam.

“How did you…?” Aden asked.

“Delphie found her cell phone. She called me,” Sam said. “You can go. Delphie says she’ll only be there a few hours. There’s an excellent plastic surgeon available.”

Sam gave Aden keys to the Lipson Construction extended cab truck he’d just stepped from.

“The plastic surgeon is dating an ER doc,” Sam said. “Very hush, hush. But Delphie says Sissy needs to meet her. The kids are making cookies with Delphie. She called Jill and Jill’s picking up Rachel when she gets Katy.”

Sam patted Aden’s shoulder.

“It’s hard to believe we’re all so interconnected,” Sam said. “But there’s no doubt that we are. Go ahead, son. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Sam walked Aden to the truck. He waved to Aden as the truck left. Humming a tune, Sam went into the Castle to help make cookies.

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at  Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters
Recap of what’s happened so far and character summary
Looking for the beginning? Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and SEVENTY-EIGHT

Wednesday morning – 9:15 A.M.

“How many houses are we going to see?” Jill asked. Driving her Lexus SUV, she turned downTwentieth Street. Heather was sitting in the back seat.

“Six,” Tanesha said.

“Which house do you like?” Jill asked. “We should start there.”

Tanesha scowled at her question.

“Since we have the codes to get in for all the properties, let’s prioritize,” Heather reached over the front seat and yanked a stack of paper from Tanesha’s hand. “Lowry, Stapleton, ooh this is nice where’s that?”

“Wash park,” Tanesha said.

“Montview,” Heather said.

“By Seth’s?” Jill asked.

“Down the street,” Tanesha said.

“Are you going to live next to the Governor?” Jill asked.

“CranmerPark,” Heather said. “Nice neighborhoods.”

“Hmmm,” Tanesha said.

Jill pulled the SUV over.

“What’s the problem?” Jill asked.

“Every house is lovely, big, but beautiful,” Tanesha said. “Every one is special in it’s own way. Jer keeps telling me I deserve a big, gorgeous home, but…”

“You don’t like them,” Heather said.

“They kind of suck,” Tanesha said. “I love the Castle. You know I do. And it’s way bigger than anything we’ve looked at. But what I love about the Castle is it’s small private spaces. These things are like museums. We’re there touring them with the realtor and Jer’s talking about all the designer furniture he’s going to put here or there. Me? I’m thinking – Who’s going to clean this mausoleum?”

“He’s probably thinking he’ll hire a cleaning person,” Jill said. “We haveRosaand she’s amazing.”

“I don’t know if I want a cleaning person,” Tanesha said. “We were in one place where the kitchen was about as big as my Gran’s entire house. No, it was literally bigger than my Gran’s house. I asked. Gran’s house is two thousand square feet. This kitchen was twenty-five hundred.”

Heather put her hand on Tanesha’s shoulder in support.

“There we are,” Tanesha continued. “Jer’s babbling on about how I deserve the best and what not; and I’m there worrying about who’s going to clean it, not to mention heat it. He says I need to get past my poverty mindset. But seriously, how much space do two people need? That house, the one with the big kitchen? If Jer and I and his two kids and the baby Mommas and all their kids were all in the house at the same time? We wouldn’t run into each other for a month. ‘We’ll get nannies,’ he says. ‘We’ll be at med school, T,’ he says. ‘We’ll get a housekeeper and a cook. I have one in most of my houses.’”

Tanesha snorted.

“A cook in every house,” Tanesha said.

“You seem really freaked out,” Heather said.

“Scared,” Tanesha said. “Maybe I’m blocking myself from wealth or whatever, but all that fancy crap is just not me. How can we ever make it work if what I like is way below his standards?”

Tanesha clammed up. Jill started the car.

“Like it’s ever going to work between me and Jeraine,” Tanesha snorted to keep from crying.

Heather squeezed Tanesha’s shoulder. They drove for a few more minutes.

“What kind of a house is more you?” Jill asked when she pulled over.

“You drove to my Gran’s house to show me where I belong?” Tanesha asked. “Gee thanks. Take the black girl back to the hood and…”

Heather cleared her throat and tapped Tanesha’s shoulder. Tanesha stopped spewing to look at her. Heather pointed to a little house caddy corner and down the block from Tanesha’s Gran’s house. The house was one story with a wide porch and a small front yard enclosed by a broken white picket fence. It had an unloved, abandoned look. Gray paint was peeling off the exterior brick. Black smoke stains seeped around the  boarded up the windows. A tattered blue tarp covered a hole in the roof.

“When we played house as kids, you used to pretend this was your house,” Jill said. “Remember?”

“White picket fence,” Tanesha’s words were soft and filled with memory. “I loved this house.”

“It’s owned by the bank,” Heather pointed to an aging sale sign. “I bet you could get a good deal and still have money to fix it up.”

“No payments,” Jill said. “That’s what my girl Tanesha would like.”

“It almost burned down a few years ago,” Tanesha said. “Gran saw the fire and called right away. I was working.”

“The plum tree’s still there,” Jill said.

“Plums,” Tanesha said. In her memory, her child self said, ‘I’m going to make plum pie, plum jam, everything plum, from this tree.’ Her mouth silently moved with the words.

A large pickup truck pulled up behind them. Looking in the rearview mirror, Tanesha saw Jacob and her father, Rodney Smith.

“Why are they here?” Tanesha asked.

“I was telling Jacob about the house this morning,” Jill said. “He thought he could slip away to take a look at it. Jacob loves houses like this. He’ll know if it can be salvaged, how much it will cost, and how long it will take. I thought you’d want to know for sure. He called about a half hour ago to tell me he got the keys. Your Dad works with him. He’s probably tagging along out of curiosity.”

“It’s not really what I deserve,” Tanesha’s voice was low and sad.

“Can’t hurt anything to look,” Heather said. “We can go see all the houses you deserve after we finish. I even brought fancy furniture catalogs so we could imagine putting furniture around.”

Tanesha turned to look from one smiling friend to the other.

“What do you have to lose?” Jill asked.

Nodding, Tanesha smiled and got out of the SUV. They met Jacob and her father on the sidewalk. For Tanesha, the next hour went by in a blink of an eye. Jacob and her father went down to the basement while she, Jill and Heather wandered the first floor. There were two small bedrooms toward the back, a modest sized kitchen, dining room and a living room facing the porch. The floors were wide planed birch which ran from the front door to the back.

After almost a year of helping Jacob with this type of remodel, Jill knew this house could be really nice. Everything Tanesha pointed out as a problem, Jill told her they could fix it easily. She encouraged Tanesha up into the attic. The women were standing in the attic when Jacob found them.

“What’s the verdict?” Jill asked.

“The foundation is sound and dry,” Jacob said. “It needs new water, new electricity and some brick work, of course. This would make a lovely master suite. Where’s the water?”

He wandered over to the corner above the downstairs bathroom and began counting off steps.

“Bathtub?” Jacob asked.

“I like taking baths,” Tanesha said.

“We just found another claw foot tub,” Jill said. “It’s at the shop getting re-enameled.”

“Would be perfect here. Good thinking,” Jacob continued counting steps. “There’s enough space here for a two person bathroom. We might want to put in a dormer so you can have some… space.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Jacob put his hands on his hips.

“What?” Tanesha asked.

“This house is begging for you,” Jacob said. “The bank is selling it for seventy-five thousand, but I bet I could get it for less. Should I try?”

“Jer’s paying for it,” Tanesha said.

“You should get the best deal possible,” her father said. “The house is going to take a lot of work.”

Embarrassed by her longing for the house, Tanesha could only nod.

“What color do you want to paint the outside?” Jacob asked.

“Yellow,” Heather said.

“With white trim,” Jill added.

Tanesha smiled. Jill and Heather hugged her.

“I’ll write everything up so you can take a look at it,” Jacob said. “Jeraine is a business man. He’s going to want the details.”

“How soon could you do it?” Tanesha’s face spoke her longing, but she kept her voice cool.

“For family?” Jacob’s eyes scanned Tanesha’s face. “Two months, maybe less. Depends on who we can get to work for us and how much money we want to spend.”

“But you could make it nice?”

“Nice?” Jacob smiled at Tanesha. “Let me give you a tour.”

Wandering through the house, Jacob painted a picture of Tanesha’s perfect home. They’d fill the hole in the roof with skylights and add a dormer for the bathroom. They’d add hardwood floors to the attic and easily fix the floors everywhere else. He’d open up the kitchen and put in the same countertops Jill had in their loft. He had a great alley-find dining table that would fit perfectly in the dining room. And those windows? He’d restore the leaded glass transoms and put in double paned windows. As Tanesha listened, she saw her dream come to life. By the time they reached the front walk, she almost believed she already lived there.

Jacob and Rodney hugged the women good-bye and sent them off to breakfast. They were on their way back to the job site before Rodney made a noise.

“You’re not going to tell her?” Jacob asked.

“Tell her that we lived there before I went to prison?” Rodney asked. “Tell her that her Momma and I planted that plum tree? Or maybe tell her that her Momma sold the house to pay for my pointless defense attorneys?”

Rodney shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to tell her. This is her fresh start.”

“Are you all right with her living there?” Jacob asked.

“Yellow with white trim,” Rodney smiled. “I was very happy there. I’m sure she will be too.”

“If you don’t want her there, this is the time to say something,” Jacob said. “I can lose the paperwork, over price the bid, or…”

“I want my baby to be happy,” Rodney said. “I love what you said, ‘This house is begging for you.’ I felt that too. It’s like coming home. She and that house belong together.”

“You’re a good man,” Jacob said.

“A good man who is not going to tell his daughter she was conceived in the house she now wants to live in,” Rodney said.

“So I’ll make it happen?”

“Do your magic,” Rodney said.

Smiling, Jacob dropped him off at his job site. This was just the kind of mess that Jacob loved cleaning up. On the way back to the office, he bought the little house and arranged for the initial work to begin. Jeraine would fuss some, but in the end, he would love living there. Sam met him at the door of Lipson Construction.

“You look happy,” Sam said .

“Making magic,” Jacob said. “Say, you want to see a cool house?”

Laughing, Sam followed him into the meeting.

~~~~~~~~

Wednesday afternoon – 1:15 P.M.

“Delphie?” Charlie called.

“We’re out here,” Delphie met him at the back door. “Anjelika went to pick up her father.”

“I wondered if you needed some help in the garden,” Charlie said.

“Sure,” Delphie shifted so Charlie could see. “I have Katy and Paddie. They’re helping me dig up the potatoes.”

Katy and Paddie were sitting in the middle of a garden bed. Covered in dirt, they were digging, laughing and playing with garden spades. Charlie smiled at the kids.

“Why don’t you join them?” Delphie asked. “Your friend can help when she gets here.”

“My friend?”

“Hey Pan,” Charlie turned toward the girl’s voice. Tink was standing in the alley outside the gate.

“Tink!” Charlie waved.

“She can stay with us for a while,” Delphie said. “But I think she’s better off at a shelter where she can get therapy and go back to school.”

“Aden said she couldn’t stay with us,” Charlie said.

“This is my house, not his,” Delphie said. “It’s up to me who stays here or doesn’t.”

Charlie’s eyes flicked to Delphie and she laughed at herself.

“She’s better off at a shelter,” Charlie said.

“She is,” Delphie said. “But this afternoon, Tink can harvest with us.”

Charlie ran passed the gardens and the bee yard to the alley. He let Tink in the back and gave her a brief, self conscious hug.

“You’re all better,” Charlie said.

“Except for the fact that I’m sober,” Tink said.

“But…”

“I’m kinda weak. The seizure is a big deal. I’ll probably have them now. So no drugs for me, but I feel better than I have in a really long time,” Tink said. “Thanks for visiting me, Pan and, well, saving my life. I guess I started to get better right after you were there.”

Not sure what she was saying, Charlie nodded. Tink hugged him.

“Come in,” Charlie said. “We’re harvesting some stuff – vegetables, fruit and whatever – this afternoon.”

“Sounds really good.”

Katy laughed and the teenagers turned to look at her.

“Come on,” Charlie said. “I’ll introduce you.”

“Cool,” Tink nodded.

She followed Charlie into the garden. They were almost to the garden bed when she stopped.

“I can’t stay with you,” Tink said. “I’m going into theUrbanPeakshelter. They made that plan for me at the hospital. With my seizures, I need treatment and stuff. The doc said I could even go to school.”

“That’s probably best,” Charlie said.

“I put you down as my family,” Tink said. “My only family.”

“Of course,” Charlie hugged her. “I’m really glad you came by.”

Blushing, Tink followed him over to meet Delphie.

~~~~~~~

Thursday morning – 1:15 A.M.

Tanesha slipped out of bed. She crept through the early morning quiet of the penthouse to the kitchen. Before she had left this morning, Jill had asked her if she’d ever listened to Jeraine’s music. It was a simple question, but with Jill’s new found ‘abilities’ nothing was simple. She shook her head. Outside of the two seconds it took her to change the radio station, she’d never listened to his music. Jill had pressed an iPod full of his songs into her hand. The last thing Jill said was maybe Jeraine could better serve people by making music. Excited about the house, Tanesha hadn’t thought much about what Jill had said. A half hour ago, Jill’s words woke her from a sound sleep.

“Maybe Jeraine could better serve people by making music.”

“How would I know Jill?” Tanesha whispered and flicked on the electric kettle.

“Listen to his music,” the Jill in her mind said.

“Hrmph.”

Tanesha scowled but went to her purse. Her hand found the iPod while her heart and mind waged a battle. When he’d left the first time, she’d promised herself she’d never listen to his music. The more famous he became, the more determined she became. She was not going to fall prey to some stupid idolization of the person who ripped her heart out of her chest.

It wasn’t easy, especially when he sold out and they used his songs in Coca Cola ads. But her friends had helped by not listening to him either. They were probably the only people in the world who didn’t know at least one of his songs. Hearing the kettle click off, she went into the kitchen.

She made her tea and went to sit in her favorite chair next to the fireplace. She had a view of the entire city and the mountains. Setting her tea down, she couldn’t have been more surprised to find the iPod in her hand.

“Jill,” Tanesha said softly as if her friend had in some way made the iPod appear.

Giving up her struggle, Tanesha put in the ear buds. She picked up her tea and turned on the iPod.

And time passed.

Tanesha cried, smiled, and boogied in her comfy chair. His music was good, really good. She could see why he was so popular.

And the love songs? She felt what she was sure every girl felt while listening to these songs: handsome Mr. It was singing directly to her. She’d listened, and re-listened, to a few love songs before she realized why Jennifer, Valerie’s publicist, was so excited to meet her. In every love song, Jeraine whispered something to Miss T.

Jennifer had asked her if she was Misty. Tanesha had no idea what she was talking about. After the third or fourth love song, Tanesha looked up ‘Mr. It and Misty’ on the Internet. Unbeknownst to Tanesha, there was a big controversy about ‘Misty.’ The gossip columnists speculated that Misty was short for Melissa or Millicent or Marissa. Every gossip magazine had a favorite girl who they believed was Misty. A bunch of girls had come forward saying they were Jeraine’s beloved Misty. You could even buy tight skank T-shirts with a picture of Jeraine on one side and ‘I am Misty’ on the back.

Yet, every time and in every language someone asked him who was Misty, Jeraine said there is no Misty.

Because there wasn’t a Misty.

There was a Miss T.

All of his love songs were for her.

Just as he’d always said, he’d done all of this for her. She’d always thought he was just talking his usual bull. His music whispered something else.

He loved her, all of her. He’d truly done all of this for her. Still listening, she watched dawn’s light creep into the city and wondered what she was going to do.

She was startled when he touched her shoulder. She pulled the iPod ear buds out of her ears and hid the device under her.

“Hey,” Jeraine said. He turned on a floor lamp. “What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing.”

His finger touched her cheek where a renegade tear lingered. His eyes took in her face.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Listening to your music,” Tanesha said.

“I thought you were never, ever going to listen to that crap ever,” he said.

“I figured if you were willing to look at my house, I should be willing to listen to your music.”

“And?”

“You wrote all of this for me?”

“I’ve told you over and over again,” he said. “You never believed me.”

“You screwed a billion women!”

“I’m an addict!” Jeraine said. “One drop of booze or blow or pot or any mind altering substance and I want all ‘dem bitches. I have a problem! I’m working on my problem! Are you going to work on your problem?”

“My problem? Oh, since you have a problem, I have to have a problem?”

The Denver Cereal will continue next week

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of The Denver Cereal, the beginning.
Signed copies of the books are only available at  Cook Street Store.
You can also find The Denver Cereal, Celia’s Puppies and Cascade at Amazon or your local bookseller.
Looking for electronic books? Go to the Cook Street Store or Smashwords.

Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.