We have a little something new this week: A 3WW button! If you'd like to include the button on your post this week or on your sidebar, just copy and paste the code below:
<a href="http://littlenibbler.blogspot.com/search/label/3WW"><img src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_gE1N8Q6CnWE/Rhq3twRMkzI/
Hopefully that will work. Many thanks to Pia, and also to Lisa, who designed Pia's template, for throwing in a few 3WW buttons for me :) And now, on with this week's Three Word Wednesday...
Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.
Leave a comment if you participate.
This week's words are:
The usual train of cars lined Market Street on this sunny Friday afternoon. Cameron took careful, measured steps, stealing glances out of the corner of his eye to check for one of his parent's cars, so as not to appear lost or worried. His biggest fear was that neither of them would be there and that he would have to sit and wait in Mrs. Slaton's room with a handful of other kids whose parents always seemed to be late. Even though that had never happened.
He looked up, relieved to see his dad yelling out the window of his gold-colored SUV. Cameron tried to hide the smile wanting to break across his face as his pace picked up and he began to run towards the vehicle. It took much effort for Cameron to climb up into the passenger's seat.
"Hey, buddy. How was school?"
"It was, fine..." Cameron wasn't convincing as he dragged out the last word.
"Nothing..." Cameron paused, then continued. "Dad? Are you and Mom getting divorced because of me?"
"Of course not! Why would you ever think that?"
"Cause! Kassi Maynard said her momma and daddy got a divorce because her and her sister were always fightin'."
"Well, Kassi Maynard doesn't know what she's talking about," Will tried to reassure his son, but was never sure what to say.
They rode along without speaking for a moment, both of them thinking about different aspects of the same issue. Cameron broke the silence.
"Do you think you and Mom will ever get back together?"
"No. I don't think so, Cam," Will sighed.
That was followed by thirty more seconds of silence.
"Do you still love Mom?"
"Of course, I do, son."
"I wish you still lived at home."
"Me, too, son... me, too."
These were the moments that tore Will apart. It was bittersweet to hear his son say he missed him. The conversation weighed on Will's mind all afternoon. Maybe he had been too stubborn. He had been told that before, many times, that he was stubborn. He had no doubt it was true. They had not communicated very well. He was working six days a week. He became jealous of Christy. Little arguments became bigger and bigger until she had filed for divorce.
Will had immediately moved out of the house and into an apartment. He didn't think either of them had tried very hard to fix things. Maybe they had given up too easily. They had been separated for a month. The divorce hadn't gone thru yet. Maybe they could try again. If for no other reason than for their son. He knew Cameron had no idea how the words he said affected his Dad. But something inside of Will wouldn't let it go.
So that evening, Will asked his mother to watch Cameron. Then he drove to Christy's with a single purpose in mind and a willingness to try. When the house came into view, Will remembered how much he had loved it the first time he saw it. The front porch that ran the length of the house, the upstairs bay windows that opened onto a balcony, the lushness of the yard covered completely by huge shade trees, the basement he had turned into an office...
His fond memories were interrupted by the realization that he no longer lived here. There were many hard things about this situation, and this was but one. As he got out of his car, Will noticed the garage was closed, but lights were on inside the house. He rang the doorbell, holding nothing but flowers and hope--perhaps unfounded, but it was hope nonetheless.
When the lock turned and the door opened, Will came face to face with reality. A man he recognized as a co-worker of Christy's stood there. Neither of them spoke or made a movement. The complete silence only amplified the tension. Then Christy's voice could be heard, drawing nearer as she spoke, "Who is it, Brian... Brian?"
"Uh, it's for you."
"For me? Who is--"
And there she was. She stopped drying her hair with a towel when she saw Will.
"Will! I wasn't expecting you. What's wrong? Is it Cameron?" Christy stammered, trying to talk about anything but the obvious.
Will never said a word. A myriad of emotions hit him in waves. The sickness in the pit of his stomach. Sadness, pain, jealousy, and anger, first at them, then at himself. Tight-lipped, he simply nodded his head in a show of resignation, dropped the flowers, and turned to walk back to his car.
Often as children, we have a belief that anything can be fixed. Somewhere along the way we learn different.
"God bless the little hearts, they're the ones who really pay. When Mom and Dad can't get along and they go their separate ways..."