Friday–still recovering from the flu. Am not up to commenting yet. Would probably talk about things that have nothing to do with the post
Have updated the other blog with a real–not whining post. I don’t even have to leave my apartment for things to happen in my little world.
I’m recovering from the flu so I haven’t been working on Colliding Worlds and have too much going on in my life–see my other blog. Ask for the URL. Asking for the URL has led to some great discussions that have nothing to do with my other blog–a one subject blog. Yes a first for me. I’m doing this as I’m a totally obsessed person who has become very awkward in the kitchen. The mechanics of buttons or anything else are beyond me today.
Dulcie wanted to look like Ava Gardner. She curled her dark brown hair and plumped her lips out but when she was through looked more like Kate Moss during her drug years.
She patted her concave stomach that was just beginning to protrude. The baby’s father looked like Elvis. Surely that gave the baby a chance to look like Ava. Dulcie read everything she could on 50′s stars. Walt told her she was obsessed with them.
She didn’t like Walt using words like “obsessed.” He didn’t even have a GED yet was always talking about On the Road and other books she was sure he couldn’t understand. She couldn’t and she had a regular high school diploma and had almost finished beauty school. People said she was good with hair.
Everything had been going so well until Walt’s father fell down a hill and was in the hospital for two months. Then they made him go to a nursing home and he died.
Turned out he had never bought the mortgage insurance he told Dulcie and Walt he had bought as a wedding present for them. Damn, they went to the courthouse and got married just because the insurance read Mr and Mrs Wayne Kilgore. The bank accepted the papers Walt’s father gave them.
Walt lost his job. Walt was always losing jobs. Now that she and Walt were married he was half responsible for the mortgage but acted as if it were all Dulcie’s problem. She didn’t know who she hated more, Walt or his dead father.
Walt spent all day on the porch reading books while Dulcie worked six days a week in the town’s diner 5:30 AM until Two PM. Soon she wouldn’t be able to work in the kitchen anymore. It was already making her feel sick. Three days a week she worked Four PM until closing in the convenience store. Couldn’t get more hours. Last time she had been pregnant the doctor made her give up that job. Too much heavy lifting. She lost the baby anyway.
Walt would smoke several joints and drink too many cans of beer. Most of their high school friends had stopped associating with them. Dulcie couldn’t blame them. She was friendly with everybody at the diner but no longer had any girlfriends to talk to. Walt wasn’t just a mean drunk but a groper.
In between shifts she would go to the library. Today was Thursday; Dulcie could stay until Mrs Whitman closed the library promptly at five. She would get lost in stacks of old movie magazines. Life seemed so simple then. She was sure it wasn’t; nothing was simple, but…Ava Gardner didn’t have a bank threatening her about a house and beauty school loan. So many men wanted Ava Gardner, including Frank Sinatra–not that Dulcie could understand his appeal. She tried listening to his music and it did nothing. Elvis was much better.
She knew that Mrs Whitman the town librarian didn’t approve of Walt, her or her reading material. Dulcie refused to feel awkward. She walked with a grace she was sure Ava Gardner would be proud of. Then she sat and devoured magazine after magazine.
Mrs. Whitman would frown but Dulcie would just smile. Unlike Walt she hadn’t stolen books or forgotten to bring them back. Unlike Walt she kept jobs and paid bills, but damn it was hard now. Every cent she made went to one bill or another, and still they owed too much.
Dulcie knew she should ask Mrs Whitman where the books on bankruptcy were, and for articles on banks taking houses back, but she wanted one more afternoon reading about Ava Gardner.
Sorry you haven’t been feeling well. But it doesn’t seem to have changed your wonderful writing style. This is great!
this was so good… i think you should keep going… hope you feel better soon too… i got the email,,, just haven’t had time to answer it yet… but i will….
Good engrossing read.
Paused only to reflect on “She patted her concave stomach that was just beginning to protrude”
Hope you have a speedy recovery!
Great read and on to the secret place I go.
Feel better.
Great story, though so sad.
Great story. I relate to Dulcie, and I know so many women who have lived similar lives. Thanks for the read.
And thanks for the nod at Black-eyed Susan’s. Always happy when friends come by.
I like as much as the other one.
Get well soon..
Like her, I think I want to find a way to escape (can you tell it’s been a long week!)
The baby’s father looked like Elvis. Surely that gave the baby a chance to look like Ava.
LOL
She could definitely hope!
Hope you’re feeling better soon, Pia. Being sick is definitely the worst.
I’m amazed at how you seemingly tell their life stories in a few paragraphs.
You have me caring about Dulcie already. Someone who, though she seemingly has no way to achieve them–still dreams.
And what is life without dreams?
Nice to meet you Pia! I felt for your character and you said so much in so few words.
Feel better!
…excellent story…
hope you’re feeling better today!
Your story was great, I hope she makes it. She seems to have that inner strength that her husband lacks. Wonderful job!