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Monday, March 30, 2015

BWU STORIES -- Excerpt #19

Audrey left her alone with the children, after providing damp paper towels to wipe the frosting off their fingers and mouths. Kat helped herself to a crown-shaped cookie. The cookie was good enough by itself. What did it need all that frosting for? Of course, she wasn't one who would refuse thick, sweet, creamy frosting under a delicate shell that crinkled when she bit into it. Maybe the cookies would be more recognizable if Audrey didn't slather them from edge to edge with frosting, but just used those gel tubes they sold in the grocery store to draw the details, like jewels on the crowns or pleats on the skirts of the princess's dress. She made a mental note to mention that, and paused to pull her notepad and pen out of the tiny purse she had brought with her today.

"Are you getting married, too?" Tiffany asked, going up on her toes to try to see over the edge of the notepad as Kat wrote.

"No. Why?" She smiled at the little girl, with her moustache of yellow frosting from biting the head off the princess cookie.

"Nikki was always making notes for her wedding. It was yesterday."

"Well, Nikki is just smart and organized. You can make notes for things besides weddings. For instance, I'm a writer, like my dad, and I carry a notepad with me all the time so I can write down ideas for scripts before I forget them."

"Who's your dad?" one of the boys asked. The two boys looked so much alike, Kat speculated they were brothers.

"Dr. Morgan."

"You're lucky. He comes over our house a lot to talk with Dad Holwood for school stuff. We like him a lot."

"Yeah, well, so do I."

That seemed to strike both boys as hilarious, and they laughed as Kat put her notepad away and continued the tour. She laughed with them, although she lost her breath for a moment later in the tour when Tiffany caught hold of one hand, and then the boy who hadn't spoken grabbed onto the other. She grinned down at them, swinging her arms out of synch, as they walked down the stairs from the balcony.

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