Wednesday Weems Novels & Stories

Bridget asks. “Hey ,” Marcella looks offended. “Sorry, you are recovering,” Bridget pouts at her. “Come here and three of us can look together,” Marcella offers. “I’ll ask Stevee. But Tuesdays, she is usually with Katie all day,” I tell them. “Spencer isn’t going anywhere,” Marcella laughs. “Baby, we only get tomorrow, we have to leave Wednesday, I have a test Thursday,” Wesley tells her. “I have two this week,” I tell him.

I deliberately made him feel like I don’t really want him inside and it did work out, but what’s the catch? Things just wound up complicated and I think I was already scrambling for some ways to deal with this Ambrose crap. I went inside the house and Wednesday was more than ready to shoot all her artilleries at me. “Who’s that?” She asked as she inched her way towards the couch. “It’s a friend from school.” I replied. “What’s his name?” Wednesday was having her afternoon tea and seemed to be enjoying every sip of it. It even smelled good that it reached my nostrils even at the distance that I was at.

He tried to catch my attention, but he turned out to be a topic for gossip among the hotel guests. "Did that peacock bother you today, Mrs. Selton?" The receptionist teased me when she saw me. I smiled and checked out of the hotel. When we got home, I worked as Andy's executive assistant at his company. The benefit of working at the same company as your spouse was that I knew his every move. Even when he had to go out for work, he would always report to me. With my help, Andy secured several major deals. He threw a banquet to celebrate.

Jackson laughs watching me thumb through the paper as fast as I can. “We’re good,” Wes says, coming back into the room. He knows what I’m looking for. “We are?” Quinn takes Emma out of her highchair and sits at the table. “Yes.” She meets my eye. “We are good.” * “You’ve already looked through it,” Wes says, coming up behind me.It’s Monday morning, and I keep going through the paper just to be sure I didn’t miss anything. “There’s nothing incriminating in there.” “Thank God.” I exhale. “One more day.”

I paused for a moment before continuing, "It's not a big deal, though, so the wedding will proceed as planned." Maisie, standing beside me, raised her head proudly and stood tall, as though asserting her claim. Jeremy looked at me, trembling with rage. "Have you lost your mind, Waylon? Do you have any idea what you're doing? How could you just bring in some random woman to replace Zoe? You're making a mockery of the Sutherlands!"

Thursdays dragged at Everglades, and this one dragged more than any other Wes had endured. While he was used to there being fewer customers on these days, he usually didn't mind as much because it gave him plenty of time to play grab ass with Noel. Any other Thursday, Wes would have been praying for an empty bar, but today, he desperately prayed for Everglades to be full of patrons. The quietness would only make things more awkward with Noel. He had agreed to talk to Jake, but he had no idea what he would say to the man. The entire situation seemed stranger than fiction and Wes didn't do fiction.

No rewriting necessary. We may get an opportunity now after many weeks have passed.

I had several witnesses that could correlate the truthfulness of my plea so where were these men taking me to? “You’re going to be spending the weekend with us ma’am.” Joe said in the same cold voice. I was completely confused and I turned to look at Dalton but his face was devoid of any emotions. “you said you were bringing me in fro questioning.” I cried. “Slight change of plans.” Joe said with a smile. We walked into the female cell rooms and I was handed over to the warden. I turned to face the two corrupt men before they could take their leave.

He slipped one hand into the pocket of his coat while the other absently adjusted the cuff at his wrist. “I could say the same,” he replied evenly. “I thought you’d be downtown.” “I usually am.” Weston rested a hand lightly on Maisie’s shoulder before continuing. “But Wednesdays belong to her. Pediatric appointments take priority over meetings.” Maisie beamed proudly, as though this arrangement made her the most important person in the county. “It sounds like a fair trade,” Sebastian said, and for the briefest second, the corners of his mouth lifted. “I read about Hawthorne Global’s acquisition last week. Congratulations. From everything I’ve heard, it was a difficult deal to close.”

LENA It was a Wednesday. I want to be precise about this because the Wednesday quality of it matters, not a significant day, not the particular and weighted day of a Sunday dinner or a foundation meeting or any of the specific and notable occasions that had accumulated since September. A Wednesday in the third week of November, the particular and ordinary quality of a midweek evening, the specific and unremarkable shape of a day that had been a working day and was becoming a working night. The foundation documents had expanded.