Serenity and Serendipity by Margo Hoornstra

Nadine Archer is the Queen of Snark. She’s a character created by my CP Jannine Gallant. I borrowed Nadine to include in a couple of the stories within my self-published anthology

SATURDAY IN SERENDIPITY

A twenty-year high school reunion in Serendipity, Vermont

changes the lives of former classmates and leads to unexpected futures.

Here are some of Nadine’s more distinctive appearances when she runs rough shod over the sign in table at the Saturday night Dance of the reunion.

***

Three Strikes Thursday

“Sign in! Sign in!” Molly McCarthy stood beside Nadine Archer behind the registration table. Talk about opposites. Molly was as sweet as cranky Nadine was sour. Their friend waved them over with a generous sample of her trademark Polly Anna smile. “Barry!” Eyes wide, smile grown wider, she hustled around the table the moment she laid eyes on him. “Last night was so much fun. And now we get to have even more.” She enveloped him in a fervent hug he gladly returned. “I’m so happy you’re back home. Have I told you that?”

“Not since last night.” He straightened with a smile as she released him.

“And Amanda.” Molly went on without missing a beat. “It’s always good to see you.”

“You too.” She smiled as Molly bestowed another eager clinch. “Always.”

Two on Tuesday

“Blane! Over here. You need to sign in.” Caught up in the perpetual exuberance of Molly Carter, class Polly Anna, Blane stepped up to the registration table and smiled. “Write yourself a name tag.” Molly pointed to the one she wore over her right breast. “Like this.”

“Thanks.” Smiling, she picked up the felt tipped Sharpie.

Molly had married Ned McCarthy from their class. Blane didn’t remember much about him except how their senior year Ned was voted Most Responsible. From out of nowhere, jealousy of the life Molly must have reared inside her.

“When you’re done with the name tag, move on to join the festivities.” A beaming Molly trilled, oblivious to a distasteful glance from the woman beside her, Nadine Archer.

Her Snarkiness Extraordinaire. Blane remembered Nadine well. Especially when she commanded Molly to bring it down a friggin’ notch with the rah-rah. Nadine was always such a bitch. Exchanging sly looks, both Blane and Molly looked elsewhere, choosing to ignore her.

“It’s so much fun having all of you back home here for the weekend.” Molly streamed a bright yellow highlighter over Blane’s name on what appeared to be a class roster.

Blane enhanced the smile Molly had brought out of her with a small laugh. “This is turning out to be fun.”

***

I’d like to channel Nadine for a few moments to snark out my own frustrations. But first the set up.

A native of Detroit, I now live in the relative peace and quiet of rural America by choice. As some of you know, my husband and I are avid walkers. Each day, we try to log at least two miles, five if we’re particularly ambitious. Our usual route takes us through Main Street in ‘downtown’ where vehicular traffic is minimal at best, out to the peace and quiet of a recreational area and lake a couple of miles from our house. There we join like minded individuals as we stroll along a dirt path and into the seclusion of a small forest where we might catch glimpses of deer grazing and birds singing, swans gliding.

Are you sensing a pattern? Out here in the country where we live, serenity and stillness are the norm.

However…

When you read this, out here in rural Michigan, we will have survived another onslaught of visitors for yet another weekend festival of some kind the city fathers and mothers see fit to burden us with each year. In the name of enriching local businesses, particularly a couple of bars, (the reality is the local treasury usually ends up just the opposite), they allow the intrusion of Ferris wheels, Tilt-a-Whirls and the like in our City Park. Heavy food carts on our newly paved streets. Late night fireworks that always upset our dogs and those of our neighbors. Disturbs our sleep and makes it rough the next morning.

Litter and grease spots remain in the streets when they leave. Tire tracks mar the grass in City Park. More debris out at our treasured recreational area.

I’m reminded of a bumper sticker I saw once when I was a visitor myself out of state. It read: Welcome to Florida, Now Go Home!

My thoughts exactly. There’s a reason we don’t live in the city, Folks. If you so love being out here, buy some property and join us permanently. You’re welcome for that, and we’d be glad to have you. Just remember, we’re here for the peace and quiet. You should be too.

I wonder if those in Serendipity feel the same as I do. Do you?

My days to blog here are the 11th and 23rd. For more about me and the stories I write, please visit my WEBSITE

A 99 Cent Book, And Anti-Hero to Boot by Margo Hoornstra

You’ve seen this book here before, but bear with me because  …..  SATURDAY IN SERENDIPITY is on sale at Amazon for 99 cents. These stories of love rediscovered—Three Strikes Thursday; Two On Tuesday; and One Fateful Friday—take place around the week end of a twenty year high school reunion in Serendipity, Vermont.

Among the six heroes and heroines, the most memorable character for me to write was Aaron Goodwin, the anti-hero who wreaked havoc in Two On Tuesday.

I’ll let him tell you more about it.

Where are you from, Aaron?

Born and raised in Serendipity, Vermont on the shores of Lake Champlain. Lived there all of my life.

When the idea of a twenty-year high school reunion came up, you made a point to invite Blane Weston back home to attend. Why her?

Yeah, she is one hot babe. She’s a Serendipity High School graduate, you know. At any rate, reuniting with her was my primary goal when I talked the lady into coming home for a visit. Heh, heh, yes sir, I had big plans for me and that cutie the reunion week-end. Aside from the looks, turned out she had brains as well. Made a name for herself in the construction industry. Owns her own company somewhere around Denver. Imagine that. A woman being a success in a man’s world. Who’d a thought? Anyway, having dabbled some in real estate myself, I figured me and Blane could, you know, establish a relationship at the reunion. And, if some lucrative property deals resulted as well, so be it. If you get my drift.

So what happened?

Good question. I guess the day before she was supposed to leave for our reunion, she met this guy at one of her job sites. Some hotshot investment guru who wanted to talk business. She said she knew all about him, said he was too much into hostile takeovers for her tastes and turned him down flat. So what does he do? Follows her here to Serendipity, crashes our reunion. For what? Thinking he could change her mind?

How did the plans you had work out for you?

Not worth a crap. Every time I managed to get her alone, this Durand character showed up to, well, show me up.

 

What did you think the first time you saw Blane and Matt together?

 

Geez. He was one arrogant SOB, stepping into my territory. I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow proceeded to monopolize my date’s time the entire week-end. He didn’t graduate with us. In my opinion, he had no business being at our reunion. Look, here’s the deal. A reunion, by definition, is a reuniting. The coming together of a group which has been separated for a length of time. Yeah. I looked it up in the dictionary.

I’m almost afraid to ask this but….what was your second thought?

It’s going to be one heck of a long week-end.

Did you think it was love at first sight for them?

Who cares? But, I gotta say, judging by her reaction to the guy, at least what I saw, she was more than professionally involved. Listen. Around me she’s a no nonsense, all business, stand up kind of woman. Around him, she was all hot flashes and hormones. He followed her to Serendipity, you know.

So you’ve said. Why do you think this Matt Durand succeeded where you failed?

Danged if I know. I mean, I was all about showing Blane a good time—let her in on what she missed out on in high school—namely me.

What is the best piece of advice you ever received?

I don’t take advice, I’m an advice giver. I went to the Serendipity Inn for the Sunday brunch as was on the reunion itinerary. Thinking Blane might want to apologize for dumping me the night before. I was even sort of encouraged when she came flying out of the place like it was on fire. Then Durand came flying out right behind her, begging her to let him explain. You’d never catch me doing something like that over some woman.

Obviously not. Which is probably why heroes, not anti-heroes prevail.

My days to blog here are the 11^th and 23^rd. For more about me and my stories, please visit my WEBSITE

Vacation Was Nice, But Back Home Has Benefits Too by Margo Hoornstra

We just got back from vacation at the lake. Lazy days filled with sun, sand, beautiful blue skies, and more.

It did rain once. Driving, sheeting rain that lasted all of about a half an hour. Then we were treated to this.

Too soon, Sunday arrived and it was time to leave. To see what had gone on back home in the yard while we were away.

I'll be the first to admit I'm not much of a gardener, so I wasn't expecting much. Most plants fear me, in fact. As they should. It's not that I neglect them on purpose, it's just that...I don't know. That's just the way it is. As it turned out, the vegetation did pretty well on its own. Hmmmmmm. So noted.

Thanks to some rain showers back home, my petunias on the porch thrived without me.

One of the tomato plants grew so large it toppled over, cage and all.

My patio garden did okay too.

Plus, could it be? A single tomato actually had ripened to red. Hallelujah! Then I looked at the plant beside it and lo and behold there was a fully developed green pepper. Hallelujah times two! A cherry tomato and pepper to match.

Vacation was nice, but it's good to be home.

My latest release Saturday In Serendipity, has that ‘It’s sometimes good to return home’ feel. Three stories of love rediscovered at a twenty year high school reunion.

Three Strikes Thursday: Barry Carlson could have any woman except one. Amanda Marsh is happy—until Barry slides back into her life. Can they put aside old wounds to find love?

The solution was simple. Get out of the car, walk up to the house and ring the bell. Apologize for the intrusion when her father came to the door, and ask to see Amanda.

Only for a couple of minutes. Please.

Then he could fall all over himself telling her how sorry he was.

“Yeah that’s gonna fly.” His whisper filled the emptiness around him, and he dropped his head. “Face it, asshole. You blew it.”

In an odd way, talking to himself, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

He turned his gaze back to stare at Amanda’s window. The shade was still down. Her light was out.

So that was it.

Moving like a rigid, soulless robot, Barry put the car in gear and drove slowly away. Picking up speed as he left Amanda’s subdivision, he floored it once he hit the highway. With the windows down, the warm night air cooled as it roared around him.

He flicked the headlights on high. Their beams lit up the trees, telephone poles and bushes as they whizzed by. Nothing could stop him as long as he kept his foot down hard on the gas pedal. Then something did.

Pulling to one side of the deserted road, he jammed the gear shift into park, jumped out, ran around to the back bumper, bent over.

And puked his guts out onto the warm asphalt.

Two On Tuesday: Blane Weston’s company needs the capital Matt Durand has, except she wants no part of him. She wants a journey to her past. He’s determined to be her future.

Sparks flashed in those bright green eyes that had so captivated him from day one. Except, just now he was sorely tempted to dodge out of the way so he wouldn’t get scorched by escaping flames.

“It’s my job to remember a lot of things.” Her gaze dropped away from his. “The appointment with you wasn’t one of them. I thought you understood that had been cancelled.”

“Guess nobody told me.” Though he couldn’t let her see him sweat, a frantic voice screamed at him this wasn’t going to work. Ignoring it, somehow he kept his composure as he slowly shut the door. “I had some questions.”

“About Weston?” She picked up some papers she moved to the left corner of her desk. “Galloway, or do you still represent the Dorman involvement with Advanced Properties.”

“None of the above.”

Leaning forward, she leveled a wary gaze on him. “What do you want then?”

With a deep breath and a prayer, he pushed off from the doorway. “You.”

One Fateful Friday: Jake Holbrook regrets his single state. When Bethany Thomas, a special woman from his past tumbles back into his life—and his bed—he’s determined to keep her.

“You’re certainly eager to help.” Bethany glanced over at Jake as they collected stacks of dirty dishes to carry into the kitchen.

The china he took care to place on the counter clattered. “Why would I pass up a chance to be alone with you?”

Smiling, she began to fill one side of the double sink with warm water and squired in some blue dish soap. “Lana seems nice. She’s a good fit for Joey.”

“She’s a good fit for the family.” Taking an assortment of plastic containers from a lower cupboard, Jake filled different ones with leftover stuffing, gravy and mashed potatoes. “They seem happy together. Joey’s a lucky guy.”

Switching the still running faucet to the other side, she passed some of the serving dishes he emptied under the flow before she positioned them in the dishwasher. “You’re jealous of him.”

Though her words were tender, the idea behind them stung. He turned his back to open the refrigerator and began to stack the containers of leftovers on the middle shelf. “Yeah, I guess on some level, I’ve always wanted a family like he has.”

“Me too.”

Saturday In Serendipity is available on Amazon.

My days to blog here are the 11th and 23rd. For more about me and the stories I write, please visit my WEBSITE

Four Ways To Fall by Margo Hoornstra

Saturday In Serendipity contains three stories of love rediscovered. A twenty year high school reunion changes the lives of former classmates and leads to unexpected futures.

 

 

Using our topics for this month, I’d like to illustrate how each of my heroes fared.

Fall From Grace: Where Barry Carlson, hero of Three Strikes Thursday, finds himself after a huge misunderstanding.

Hot on Amanda’s heels, Barry followed her out of the ballroom. “Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on?”

She turned so abruptly, he damned near bowled her over. When he shot out a bracing arm so she wouldn’t fall, she dodged away from him as if he’d come at her with a butcher knife.

“Look, if you’re not feeling up to staying here. Let’s go back to my place so we can be alone.”  And I can find out what the hell is the matter.

“Were extra points given for maintaining the charade until the reunion was over?”

“Charade?”

“Sorry to ruin your winnings, but I refuse to be fooled any longer. Or made a fool of, to be more precise. I truly believed you’d changed.”

She lowered her eyes, and his gut clenched when a tear fell onto the carpet. “What are you talking about?”

“You had me convinced that things between us could be different.”

“They are different.”

“Really? I just had a very interesting, and revealing, conversation with your good friend Aaron Goodwin.”

Unsure how to process the remark, he glanced over her head to find that particular  classmate leaned against a far wall, self-satisfied smirk on his face as he watched them  through narrowed eyes.

A bizarre collection of confusion and fear, apprehension and dread flowed through him like a wild fire.  “A conversation about what? Where?”

“Back at Keenan’s when you and your group of old buds came up with that—that—bet.”

As his memory completed a fast rewind of the night in question, the warmth in his heart turned to ice. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He hedged for time as his mind reeled with ways to get out of the deep, dark pit he was about to fall into.

Fall Overboard: How Matt Durand, hero of Two On Tuesday responds when that nearly happens.

One of the officers, the one she hadn’t gone to school with, walked over and knelt down.  “I can call an ambulance if you’d like to seek medical attention, ma’am. To take you to Anderson Memorial Hospital in town.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I need to.”

Matt ignored her. “I’ll take her in.”

“That’s not necessary.” She indicated the area on her forehead that was beginning to throb again. “It’s just a bump.”

“One hell of a bump.”

“You might want to get it checked out.” The officer stood.

“I don’t—”

“She will.” Matt lifted his head as the officer walked away.

Before she could lodge another protest, an oddly quiet and subdued Aaron came up to stand over her.

“You’re doing okay, aren’t you, Babe?”

Suddenly she no longer cared to deny how she really felt. “I’ve been better.”

“It was my fault. I didn’t know you stood up.” He shaded his eyes to look over at his boat. “I figured you’d have the sense to stay put.”

With a snort, Matt started to rise. She touched his arm. Slanting her a glance, mouth once again grim, he stayed at her side. If Aaron’s intention was to lay the blame for getting hurt on her, she wasn’t about to let him. Plus, she could take care of herself, thank you very much.

“It was a stupid thing to do, Aaron.” Her voice rose as did her indignation. “Asinine.” Despite her aching forehead and a shoulder that was beginning to smart, she tried to stand. Matt stood along with her. No, actually, he pulled her to her feet and kept his arm around her waist as she faced Aaron.

“I said it was my fault.” A rueful gaze ricocheted her way. “And I’m kidding about the staying put part. Mike’s partner said you should be checked out. I’d take you, but.” His gaze strayed over to his boat. “They said I can’t leave the doll here, plus I don’t have a car handy.”

She gritted her teeth. At the moment, the desire to get away from her so-called date overruled a reluctance to seek medical attention. “I think I will take Matt up on his offer to drive me to Anderson.”

Not one to show weakness, she formulated a plan. Once they were away from the dock, she’d convince him to bypass the hospital visit and give her a ride back to her hotel. In her room, she could just lie down with a cold washcloth on her head.

Aaron stepped closer. “She said she was fine while we were still on the boat, and I believed her.”

Brow furrowed, Matt shot him a look as his arm came around Blane’s shoulders. “That was your second mistake today.”

“Blane. Babe. I’ll call you.”

Aaron’s words followed them down the dock as Matt guided her to his car.

Fall Into Wrong Hands: What Jake Holbrook, hero in One Fateful Friday prevents when he discovers an abandoned child.

“We’ll handle this in the usual way, Mr. Holbrook, then send you a report.” The security officer again reached for the child.

Jake stood up. “I’m sure you will.”

“Good-bye, little one.” Bethany remained where she was as the door closed. Jake offered her a hand to get to her feet. For some reason, anger bubbled to the surface she allowed to spew out at him. “Why did you do that?”

Shock took over the concern on his features. “Do what?”

“Give her to your people like that?”

“Because that’s how it’s done.” Disbelief colored words which came out low and direct.

“Why?”

As if by mutual agreement, they dropped hands.

“What’s your solution? Take her home with you?”

The image of the one-bath, one-bed yet to be settled apartment reared up in her mind.

“No. But we could take her, I don’t know, up and down the halls. Find out who she belongs to.”

There was no mistaking the impatience that flashed in his eyes, but he deliberately reached down to take a gentle hold of her wrists. “And then what?”

"Then we’d—I don’t know.”

“Turn her over to the first stranger who claims to have brought her here?”

“Saying it that way makes my idea sound stupid.”

“Maybe because that’s what it is.”

“Don’t call me stupid, Jake.”

“I’m not. I’m pointing out the shortcomings of your way of thinking on this issue.” The soothing quality in his voice matched the light strokes of his thumbs across her palms. “That’s one way child molesters find their victims.”

He didn’t stop her when she pulled away from him. “That’s not what I want.”

“Fortunately, or unfortunately, with the spate of No Fault Abandonment laws being enacted, children are frequently dropped off at hospitals now.”

“That can’t be.”  Bethany couldn’t hide her horror. Pain at the possibility that precious child had been abandoned sideswiped her heart. “Do you think that’s what happened?”

“I’ve seen it enough.” A mixture of anger and sadness crossed his face. “I, for one, have yet to get used to the practice.”

“Here I thought those kinds of things only happened in the third world countries I used to visit.” Blowing out a breath, she wiped her palms on the sides of the white lab coat she wore. “I guess I should be getting back to work now.”

“Me too.”  He followed her to the door.  “Baxter will make sure the little girl is well taken care of.”

She grabbed his arm. “Define well taken care of.”

His eyes softened at her anxious expression. “She’ll be picked up and put in foster care.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“I’m sorry, Bethy, but those are the rules.”

“I’ve always hated rules.”

“Rules are necessary. This type of thing happens a lot."

“It shouldn’t.”

“It does.  A couple of weeks ago a Jane Doe was brought in, deceased from a drug overdose. I can’t tell you how many times the ER docs have stitched up a kid after a fight of some kind.”

“A sign of the times I suppose. Even in sleepy little Serendipity.” Picking up a stray paper cup to throw in the trash, she dispelled the few tears which had made it as far as her cheeks with two back hand swipes. One for each side.

Reaching up, his fingers brushed at what she missed. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

Eyes closing on a combination of anger and sorrow, she swallowed twice. “Why do men always feel it’s their fault when a woman becomes a little emotional?”

Opening the door for her, he remained silent after they walked out into the hallway. Though the voice was low, almost a whisper, his eventual answer rang out to her loud and clear.

“Wishful thinking?”

That’s all I have for now, which leaves Fall Into Winter without a hero or an excerpt. Sorry. Not doing it. Because that one will be here, for real, soon enough.

My days to blog here are the 11^th and 23^rd. For more about my stories and me, please visit my website