Hearts Shaken and Stirred
an excerpt

“I can’t believe it’s only eight thirty in the morning. Could this day get any worse?” Gail Joiner asked bitterly. Her sulking daughter and part of the reason for the poor start did not deign to answer her. “Sierra, put on your seatbelt,” she said for the second time.

Her day had not started like any other Friday. For one thing, her nine-year-old daughter had to make an impromptu visit to work. It was a teacher workday and her usual babysitter had called this morning with a 103° temperature. For another, today should have been a holiday for her. Unfortunately, the new Vice-President of Marketing had decided that she needed to be at the strategic planning session he had called.

Her position as Communications Director didn’t usually put her under the realm of the Sales and Marketing staff but with a new Veep, came new ways of doing business and she had resigned herself to having to roll with things until everything and everyone settled down.

She was already late but the car stayed in park in their driveway. With another glance over at her pouting daughter in the passenger’s seat, she stated through clenched teeth, “I’m not going to tell you again. Put your seatbelt on.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I don’t particularly care.”

“I told you I could stay by myself.” Sierra crossed her arms. “I’m not a baby.”

“In a year or two, we can discuss it. However, your behavior so far today is ample illustration of why I can’t leave you on your own.” With a small prayer to the Monica, the patron saint for mothers of fractious children, she watched her daughter finally comply.

Sierra made putting on her seatbelt into a big production but the quiet click was enough for Gail to put her CR-V into gear. Pulling into a gap in the stream of cars heading downtown, she tried not to think about her upcoming meeting. Distractedly, she said, “I thought you liked hanging out with Tim.”

“I wanted to sleep in.”

“So did I, sweetheart. But we’ve gotten used to eating regularly and that only happens when someone goes to work and brings home a paycheck.”

“I don’t have to work.”

“I’m aware of that. You should be aware that someday your blissful little schoolgirl existence will be over and you’ll be going to work every morning like the rest of us.”

“I’ll marry well.”

“You’ll what?” Her screech did nothing to soothe her headache.

“That’s what Aunt Elizabeth said. If I marry well I won’t have to work like you.”

“So, much for all those feminist fairy tales I read to you when you were a child.” Gail wanted to pull out her hair by the roots. Instead, she took her eyes off the traffic in front of her to look at herself in the rearview mirror and was pleased to note that the only sign morning’s trauma was a small streak of soot on her face.

Despite that, Gail looked like she had stepped down from a painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Her complexion was peaches and cream. Her auburn hair and green eyes set off the soft curves and ample assets of her body.

She licked her thumb and rubbed at the offending spot. Still miffed, she glanced at her daughter. “I can’t believe that you put the toaster scrambler box in the oven.”

“How was I supposed to know any better?”

“Maybe if you read the directions instead of just barging full speed ahead we wouldn’t have had flames shooting out the oven this morning.”

“I don’t know why you’re so mad. You got the fire under control in no time.”