Wednesday June 25, 2014
2:32 PM Eastern Daylight Time
The Nest- Driveway
Indianapolis, Indiana
“Is everything alright here?”
At the sound of her voice both her daughter and Clinton Sickles stopped in their tracks, glancing over at her. Clinton looked somewhat sullen, but her daughter barely even acknowledged her, continuing to stare at Clinton, not answering.
“Theresa, Is everything okay?” Wendy tried again, but it was clear that her words were simply bouncing off her daughter’s skull. “Shut up Fireball!” she snapped, turning back to dog who had been annoyingly yipping through the entire confrontation. She glanced back at Theresa, and for some reason, her daughter wasn’t exactly all there. She had zoned out, her eyes in a faraway place, a wistful smile on her lips. Wendy couldn’t blame her, really- this heat was making it hard for anyone to focus. She’d caught herself slipping into daydreams several times already.
Still, this wasn’t exactly the best time for it…
“THERESA! HEY, THERESA!”
THAT jarred the little girl out of her trance, and she looked over at her mom, blinking as if just waking from a sleep. “I’m sorry, Mom. What?”
“I was asking if everything was okay.”
For an answer, Theresa pointed at Clinton’s hand, and Wendy realized that the bucket in his hands looked awfully familiar. “He stole my chalk!” she protested.
Oh for crying out loud, Wendy thought. The last thing she needed today (or any day really) was that spoiled selfish brat starting more altercations with her daughter. He’d already done enough damage. She took a deep calming breath, rubbing her eyes. “Why did you steal her chalk?”
Clinton shrugged. “Just havin’ some fun.”
“Well, I don’t think its very much fun for her. Give it back, please.”
For a second she thought he was going do be defiant, which she really, REALLY wasn’t in the mood for. But the third (or rather now, fourth… assuming somehow he passed) grader simply shrugged. “I don’t want your stupid girl chalk anyhow,” he sneered to Theresa, then tossed the bucket high in the air, the contents spilling out and raining down as Theresa shrieked and covered. Before Wendy could even say a word, the boy had ran off between the houses across the street, to find a more unsupervised target to torture.
“ASSHOLE!” Theresa screamed after him.
“THERESA!”
“Well, he IS, Mom!” Theresa protested. “You should have kicked his stupid head off!”
“I’m not going to kick an eight year old, Theresa,” Wendy sighed, as she looked around at the sticks of chalk littering the ground, groaning silently as a green one rolled into the stormwater drain, disappearing with a plop. “Come on, I’ll help you pick these up.”
It didn’t take too long to pick up find all the remaining sidewalk chalk pieces, although at least six had broken on impact, while a few more were chipped. Soon though, the rest of the sticks were in the bucket, and Wendy picked up the bucket, grateful to get off the scorching pavement.
“You didn’t touch him or anything, did you?”
“No. Of course not,” Theresa replied innocently. “Although I was probably going to…”
“Well you have to keep your cool, okay? Remember, YOU’RE the one who’s going to get in trouble if anything happens. Don’t let him goad you into doing something you’ll regret.”
“I know,” Theresa huffed irritably. “But it’s not fair!”
“I know, hon,” Wendy said sadly. “It isn’t, and it’s wrong that reacting to that jerk put such a stigma on you with the school district and the courts. But until we get that all taken care of, the last thing we want to do is give the Sickles and the courts MORE ammo…” her voice trailed off
“I know. Just… UGH.” Theresa grumbled. “Well, thanks for helping out, anyways, Mom.”
“No problem, I was on my way to get the mail and just walked in,” Wendy said, handing her daughter the bucket of chalk. “Well, you better head on in. You’ve been out for a while, and you don’t want to get sunburned. And maybe you should finish up your schoolwork so you can go with your dad to the races Friday night.”
“Oh, I’m done,” Theresa proclaimed.
“Really?” Wendy asked skeptically. “With everything?”
“Yup! I know they’re not due until the end of the month, but watching how vigiliant you are in keeping on top of things, I’ve realized how important time management is,” Theresa replied. “I’ve read them over every night too, making sure that everything is in order. When you have time, could you and Daddy read them and double check to make sure I did everything properly?”
“No problem, Theresa!” Wendy said, smiling warmly with pride. “We’ll look them over tonight.”
“Great! Thanks mom! I’m going to get the best scores I can, make you and Daddy proud, and make St. Joseph’s have no choice but to accept me next year!”
“That’s wonderful, Theresa. Now run along. I’ll get the mail and check with your father on the air conditioning, and then you and I can have some cookies to celebrate the end of your school year!”
“MOM! HEY, MOM!”
Wendy jumped at her daughter’s voice, startled. Evidently in the heat, she had let her mind wander. She looked down at Theresa, rubbing her eyes.
“Sorry, Terr-Bear. I was daydreaming for a second. What were you saying?”
“I was telling you thanks for helping me out with Clint.”
“Oh! No problem, Terr-Bear. I was just walking out to get the mail and saw the commotion.” Wendy held out the bucket of chalk for her daughter to take. “Well, you better head on in. You’ve been out a while and I don’t want you getting sunburned.”
“But it’s so stuffy inside!” Theresa whined. “It’s like an oven!”
“It’s not so bad now,” Wendy promised. “I opened all the windows, and got some fans running. It’s aired out quite a bit.”
“When’s Dad going to be done with the stupid air conditioning?” Theresa pouted.
“I was going to get the mail, and then I was going to ask him,” Wendy said. “Can’t be too much longer. He’s been at it for a couple of hours. By the way, have you gotten your schoolwork done yet?”
“It’s not due until the end of the month,” Theresa replied. “I got five days.”
“You *have* five days. Why don’t you just do it now? Then you’ll have it out of the way, can enjoy the weekend instead of surrying to get it all done, and save yourself the headache of having to do things at the last minute?”
“I still dont’ see why I have to do it anyways. I did my 180 days. You said so yourself.”
“Yes, but the accredation service were using wants to make sure you learned the material right. This way, when we try to get you into a school, we’ll have proof that you mastered the second grade. And with good score, it’ll help you get into a better school next year.”
“Fine, whatever,” Theresa said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll get the stupid exams done. Don’t worry about it, mom,” she turned to stomp off into the house.
“Make sure you take your time! Don’t rush things!” Wendy reminded her.
“I know..”
“And I’ll want to look it over when it’s done!”
“Yeah, whatever,” Theresa said in the snottiest tone Wendy’d ever heard from her, as she stalked up the steps into the house. Wendy watched the door slam behind her, and sighed. She enjoyed being Theresa’s teacher, for the most part, but sometimes getting her to do the work was such a fight.
And it’s not like she hadn’t had a month to work on these exams. But like it or not, they WERE going to be done by next Monday. Of that she had no doubt.
“Right, the mail,” she finally said, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out the key, turning back towards the street, and the communal mailbox waiting across.
===================================
Wednesday June 25, 2014
2:43 PM Eastern Daylight Time
The Nest- Side Yard (Right Side facing the street)
Indianapolis, Indiana
"I've brought you a drink, Terry,"
Terrence Thompson craned his neck up to see his wife standing over him, holding a tall plastic tumbler almost overflowing with ice and lemonade. "Oh? Great, thank you. It's murder in this heat" he said, pushing himself off the ground where he had been lying next to the air conditioner unit.
"Well, you've been out here a while, working so hard. How much longer do you think it's going to take?"
Terrence shrugged. "Not one hundred percent sure, but I think I'm getting the idea. Shouldn't be too much longer."
"Thank God," Wendy huffed. "It's so bleeping HOT today!"
"Well, if you're so hot, you could always take something off, " Terrence offered with a wink, eyeing his wife, who was wearing a bright yellow T-shirt and white cargo shorts, along with a pair of sandals.
Wendy pondered for a second, then shrugged. "I suppose I could for a bit. It's not like anyone's going to see me, since the Andersons are out of town," she said, gesturing over at the house next door. She grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and off over her head, so that now she only stood in her bra.
"There. Bet you feel a lot cooler now, don't you?" Terrence asked with a wink.
"Actually,” Wendy said, panting and fanning her chest. “I feel… hotter.”
They looked at each other, and suddenly they had collided, mouths and tongues pressing into each other, as their hands ripped at the clothes they were still wearing, sweating even more in the sweltering sun, despite the discarded garments. With a grunt, Terrence spun, throwing Wendy atop the air conditioning unit, falling atop her and kissing her neck, as she gasped. “Oh, Terry…. Terry!”
“TERRENCE! HEY, TERRENCE!”
Terrence looked up, squinting into the bright sunlight to see his wife standing over him, arms on her hips. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, and stifled a yawn. “Sorry, hon. What was that?”
“I was asking you how much longer it’s going to be. We’re you sleeping?”
“No!” Terrence said defensively… and perhaps a tad untruthfully. “I just got… lost in thought for a second. This heat… it plays tricks with your brain.”
“Tell me about it,” Wendy said, fanning herself with a small stack of envelopes in her hand. “So, how much longer, you think?”
“Can’t say for certain. I think I’m pretty sure what I need to do, just… I’ve never done it before, so new territory.”
Wendy closed her eyes and sighed. “Maybe you should just call a repairman.”
“Nah, I got this. I’ve come this far, haven’t I?”
“Well, hurry it up. It’s so bleeping HOT today!”
Terrence grinned at his irritated wife. “Well, if you’re so hot, you could always take something off.”
The look that Wendy gave him was not one of amusement. “And walk around in exactly what, Terrence?”
“Well, nothing if you want.” He said, putting his hands on his shoulders, and pulling her in. “But that might just make you hotter.”
“Oh, God, Terry,” Wendy said, pulling away. “Not now. You’re all sweaty and gross and anyone could see us…”
“Hey, you never objected, before, like after we were done training or anything.”
“Well, that’s different. That’s like good sweat. You’re all greasy and icky and… no…” she quickly changed the subject, waving the envelopes in her hand. “Mail came. You got something from NASCAR. I’ll drop it off at Cassie’s office tomorrow when I go in to train.”
“Nah, all the track stuff goes there anyways,” Terrence said, breaking out into a grin. “That’s actually for me. It’s my Nationwide license application.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed. “Wait… Nationwide license?”
“Yeah, you know, the Nationwide Series? The second-highest one, one step below Sprint Cup. I was talking to a guy at Michigan, and he was expressing interest in maybe me running some races for him next year. But I gotta get myself licensed right to race in the division, so I figured I’d look into it.”
“When were you going to tell me about this?” Wendy asked. She was a lot less happier than he had anticipated her hearing this news.
“I dunno. It’s not like it’s all that big of a deal, hon,” Terrence said with a shrug. “Nothings set in stone yet, but I just figure that maybe at least looking into it would be good. Even if I don’t get a full time ride, maybe doing a few here and there on intersecting weekends with ARCA would be a good way to get my feet wet.”
He could see her mouth moving to mimic the words “full time ride”, although no audio came out. Wendy took a deep breath, and nodded. “Alright. Well, I better get back inside before my skin starts to peel off. Let me know when you get the AC fixed, alright?”
“I think you’ll know,” Terrence said, still miffed at his wife’s less than receptive attitude, but she only nodded and turned to walk away, rounding the house. It was then that something else suddenly popped in his brain.
“Hey, could you bring me some lemonade?” Terrence called after her.
The sound of the front door slamming without a reply was a pretty good indication that he probably wasn’t getting refreshments any time soon.
Ah well, he thought, dropping back down to look at the air conditioning unit.
Back to work.
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