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Chapter 11
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Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 1
Las Vegas, Nevada.October, 2005.Two Months Before Christmas. It was a beautiful four-story building with clean lines, glittering plate glass and a golden rod colored door. A tribute to the architect who designed the building. An elongated piece of driftwood attached to the right of the door was painted the same shade of goldenrod. The plaque said it was the Karen Morrison Building. The overall opinion of visitors and clients was that the building was remarkable, which was the architect and owner’s objective.The young sun was just creeping over the horizon when Les Morrison tucked his briefcase between his knees, searching his jean pocket for the key that would unlock his pride and joy, the Karen Morrison Building which was named after his mother. Opening the door, Les turned off the alarm and flicked the light switch on. Taking a moment, he looked around the lobby of the building he’d designed when he was still in college studying architecture. He was a lucky man for he’d been ab
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 2
Les decided he didn’t feel like making coffee. He was too nervous around this couple from his hometown. He knew in his gut they were going to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. He pressed a button on the console. “Hillary, will you bring some coffee into my office? I have two guests. Also bring some mini-baked donuts." Les whirled around, hoping to delay the moment they were going to tell him why they were really here. “So, what do you think of Nevada?” Les asked. The couple both looked at each other, “Oh, we're old and don’t fit in here, that’s for sure,” Joyce said with a smile on her face. “We’re simple people, Lester. You know all those fancy cars, they cost more than our farm and bring in more money for over ten years. The stores with all those expensive clothes where they hide the price tags made my eyes water. Our son-in-law took us to Ro-day-o Drive. That was the name of it, wasn’t it, Alfred? Hollywood people,” she sniffed. Having enough already, "Will you just p
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 3
A week later and three thousand miles away in Boston, Massachusetts. Thirty-two-old career woman Hazel Myers was on an emotional high as she packed her already overfilled briefcase.She looked around her cluttered office and sighed. One of these days she really had to give some thought to organizing things. She knew it wasn’t going to happen because she loved living in clutter, and loved that she could instantly lay her hands on anything she needed. Hazel Myers owned a public relations firm in the heart of Dorchester. It employed three full-time staff members; two part-time moms whose schedules she worked around, a receptionist-slash-secretary, and a battle-scarred, bushy-haired orange tabby cat named Roxie she had found half-starved in the basement of the building she rented. If anyone reigned supreme at the Myers Agency, it was Roxie who greeted clients by purring and strutting her stuff. He had quickly become the favorite of the residents. Roxie knew how to turn on the computer,
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 4
Some hours later with four stops along the way, Hazel pulled into her mother’s driveway on Little Pumpkin Lane. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. She was home. The house where she’d grown up. A house of secrets. The house where she’d been lonely, sad, angry. So many memories.Now why had she expected her mother to be standing in the doorway waiting to greet her. Because that’s what mothers usually did when an offspring returned home for a visit."A stupid expectation." Hazel decided.She climbed out of the car, leaving Roxie in the car while she unloaded her bags and boxes of things she’d brought with her.After Four trips into her house, Hazel carried Roxie into the house and settled her and her litter box in the laundry room. She called her mother’s name, knowing there would be no answer. Her mother was a busy lady who did good deeds twenty-four/seven.All she did was sleep at the house. It was like that while she was growing up, too. Laura Myers for the most part h
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 5
Exhausted from his long trip, Max was excited to get out and run. Les pulled up to the entrance of Morrison Farms and looked at the battered sign swinging on one hinge from the craved post. A lump rose in his throat but there was nothing a few nails, new hinges, and some paint couldn't do and it would be good as new.Les ascend a steep hill lined with ancient fragrant evergreens, their massive trunks covered in dark green moss. At the top of the hill, Les parked his BMW Z4 and got out of the car to look down at the valley full of every kind of evergreen imaginable. He saw the Douglas first, the blue spruce field, and to the left of that, the long-needle Scotch pine.He shaded his eyes from the sun to see the fields of Balsam fir, Concolor Fir, Fraser firs and Norway Spruce. To the left as far as the eye could see were the fields of white pines and the white firs. The Austrian pines looked glorious, and three fields of Virginia pines seemed to go on to infinity. When he was done admir
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 6
Hazel jerked awake when Roxie stirred in her lap, not too long, she heard the front door slammed shut. Her mother was home.Groggy from the short nap, Hazel combed her hair with her fingers, tightened the velvet bow at the back of her head, she readied herself for what she knew would probably be an unpleasant encounter with her mother.She waited at the top of the steps to see if her mother would call her name, acknowledge her presence in some way, such a silly thought.Evidently, Roxie was of the same opinion as she hissed and snarled, cycling Hazel’s ankle. She bent down to pick up the unhappy cat and descended the steps calling her mother’s name twice before she entered the kitchen. Laura Myers waved airily as she babbled into the cell phone clutched between her ear and her cheek. She was opening a container of yogurt and sprinkling something that looked like gravel over the top. A bottle of mineral water was clutched under one arm as she jugg
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 7
Steve Morrison sat on the top of the newly repaired steps that leads to the front porch. There was a time when the porch held pumpkins with lit candles, cornstalks, and a few scarecrows. So long ago. Now the porch was empty, just the way he was empty.It was full dark now, a breeze swept over the tops of the trees to make them sway. an hour past supper. The only thing he'd eaten today was a frozen Tv dinner at lunchtime that tasted like cardboard because the pot of stew he'd made wasn't done cooking. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered. He sighed.Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a line of headlights heading out of the fields. The drivers of the vehicles wouldn't see him sitting on the steps because of the big blue spruce at the corner of the house blocked the view of the porch. Les's workers, that's how he thought of them, wouldn't be grazing about anyway. They'd be in a hurry to get home to their families and a warm supper. Les would be the last one to come down the
Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 8
It was ten o'clock when Hazel pushed her chair away from the table. Earlier on, she'd kicked off her shoes, and now she put her hand on her toes. She contemplated her pedicure as she tried to make sense out of her resentful mother. She hated being hard-nosed or hardhead, but she really didn't have many options under the circumstances. She eyed her mother now and as she tried to think of something nice to say. The words evaded her."Are we done here, Hazel?""For now, Mom. Do you at least understand the huge problem you created? I don't know if I can pull this off. I just wish you had consulted me when you first came up with the idea. It's a wonderful idea and if it works it will benefit the Society group." There, that was something nice. uhh"But you don't think it will, is that it? Say it, Hazel. Say what you're thinking. Let's get it all out in the open before we go any further.""I don't think we should go there, Mom. Let's go to bed, sleep on it and tackle it again in the morning.
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- Homecoming tales; Beauty in imperfection Chapter 11
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