Desdemona Humphries leads a rather unspectacular life. She's a great daughter, grand-daughter, and aunt. She helps her brother coach little league and helps her sister bake for the school bake sales, in between running a bed and breakfast with her f...
Desi sat staring blankly at the blinking cursor, for how long she didn't really know, until with a huff, she shut the laptop with a snap. She'd tried for days to write, but nothing would travel from her addled brain to her fingers to form words, thoughts, and feelings. She hadn't even been able to bring herself to answer B's latest email. She shook her head as she scooted her chair back from her desk and headed for the open bedroom door, catching a whiff of ham baking from the kitchen.
She gave a small smile as she heard the happy voices of her niece and nephews, all gathered with their grandpa in the living room to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Desi bypassed that particular circus and entered the kitchen to find Gran and Hester sitting at the kitchen island, one peeling apples for a pie and the other making cinnamon roll dough for tomorrow's breakfast.
"How goes Christmas dinner preparations? Need some help?"
Gran looked up from dough in front of her to lift a brow. "Finished writing already?" She looked around the kitchen at the controlled chaos of Christmas Eve. "I think we have things pretty well in hand here. I believe there are some last-minute gifts that need wrapping if you'd like to tackle that."
Desi patted Hester on the shoulder, earning myself a tired smile as she walked through the kitchen to the garage, where dad had stored all of the gifts that either still needed to be wrapped or constructed. She sighed as she grabbed a wrench and box knife to open one of the five bicycle cartons in the space where her dad's Caddy usually resided. As she sorted through bike parts to find the instructions, she couldn't help but wonder what B was doing right now.
They'd talked pretty steadily online the last few days, all except today. They still hadn't traded any personal info like names, or ages, but they'd chatted pretty consistently. His last email wanted to know when she was going to update her latest story, as he had steadily read through every story she had posted and still wanted more. It was flattering to know that he liked what she wrote, but she didn't know how to tell him that it just wasn't there anymore. She hadn't been able to write since Brad left Hester, and she didn't know how long it would be before she could again.
Desi heard the door to the kitchen open and she shot a panicked look in that direction, only to find her dad standing there with his hands up in a defensive gesture, a grin on his still-handsome face. "It's only me. The kids are settled in front of the t.v., so I thought I'd come see if you wanted some help."
She nodded as he walked over to get some tools from the workbench. "Yeah, this is definitely a two-person job, at least."
Her dad chuckled as he settled down on the floor across from her. "I thought you'd be taking advantage of the downtime and writing."
She shook her head as she concentrated on the bike in front of her for a few minutes. "No. I just... " She looked at her dad as tears flood her eyes unbidden. "How am I supposed to write a love story right now when Hester is going through something so devastating? Jesus, dad, at this point I feel like I'm trying to write about something that doesn't even exist."
Her dad shook his head sadly as he reached across the space between them to take her small hand in his much larger one. "Darlin, I'd love to tell you that assholes like Brad don't exist, but they do, and you're old enough to know that. Hester doesn't need you to feel sorry for her. She can do that herself, but she isn't. I'm proud of how she has handled all of this. Yes, she has her bad moments, but for the most part, she's showing that Humphries backbone."
Desi nodded, completely agreeing with him. Hester had been nothing but a class act through all of this. She wondered if it were her in her place if she could do the same. "I know that dad, but you have to admit that it would be hard to write a couple in love right now."
He shrugged, then gave her a sly grin. "I can see your point, but I just figured that guy you've been talking to and giggling over could help you figure that out."
Desi stuck her tongue out at him as he laughed heartily. "We're just friends, that's all."
"Of course, sweetheart. My mistake. Have you exchanged names yet, or are we still going by our email handles?"
She grinned, shaking her head. "Not yet, no. I don't think either of us is ready for that step yet."
He took the wrench out of her hand. "Listen, I can handle these. Why don't you go try to write something? It will make you feel better about things. If you can't work on your story, do what your mother used to do. Write down your feelings, get them out. It'll help, even if nobody else ever sees it."
Desi sighed, knowing that he was right. When they were younger, her mom would always encourage them to write down their feelings, especially if they couldn't give an actual voice to them. It had indeed always helped. She walked out of the garage and through the kitchen, taking a moment to chat with Gran and Hester before making her way back up the stairs to her bedroom. Once inside, instead of taking out her journal, she opened her laptop and waited for it to load. As soon as it did, Desi opened her email and started typing.
I'm sorry I haven't answered you before now. As you can imagine, things have been busy around here, preparing for the holiday. I hope you are doing well and enjoying Christmas. To answer your question, I haven't worked on my story since Brad left Hester. I just haven't been able to bring myself to even look at it. I'm not sure I can continue the story as of now. I feel like I have no idea what love really is, so how in the world can I write a book about it? I mean, you have to understand, Hester and Brad had the perfect relationship. They were so happy together, and to think that could be torn asunder as it was... I have no words. I literally have no words. I'm sorry if I'm letting you down, but if I'm going to be honest with you as well as myself, I may never finish the book, or write another word.
Desi hit send and let the breath out that she hadn't realized she was holding. She knew that she possibly could have just ended their budding friendship. If he was only corresponding with her because he enjoyed her work, then he would really have no reason to continue to do so. She sat for a while, head in her hands, not really expecting a reply but hoping with everything she had that he would.
