The Ring - Chapter 5

 

HEATHER AND MARGO

“I’LL GET THE door,” Margo said when the doorbell rang “Why Henry, this is a surprise.”

She had been glad Henry had been in her mother’s life. The time they spent together was time Medora wouldn’t be on Margo’s back, criticizing everything Margo was doing.

Margo also liked Henry for himself. Despite his business success, he was never pretentious, like many of her rich clients were. He treated her mother well. Despite her differences with her mother, she wanted them to be happy.

Henry had never been a replacement father, more like a friend, and more than once he’d given her financial advice. An artist’s income, even one who was semi-successful, could spiral up and down and with Henry’s advice she had been able to weather the leaner moments.

Also, he was supportive of her decisions to use her divorce settlement, which she hadn’t touched, to buy the land and build her tiny house/studio. He checked to make sure everything was like it should be during the construction.

He even acted as a surrogate grandfather and/or father when needed. He’d taken Bethany to more than one father-daughter dinner in her child’s teen years spent in America and that was before his wife had died.

As for Bethany, Margo knew Henry had guided her child through the school years when she felt she didn’t belong anywhere. He celebrated with Margo when Bethany finally found her niche as a researcher.

“It’s Henry. Bring another cup,” Margo said.

Heather appeared within minutes carrying a tray with a teapot and three cups and saucers. A plate, matching the cup and saucers, held chocolate chip cookies.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. Of course, if you need any help. . .”

“We know.” Heather put the cups and saucers on the coffee table then poured Henry’s first. She poured milk into her cup before adding the tea, a trick she had learned on a trip to England. Margo thought It pretentious but said nothing.

Heather added sugar to her tea, but Margo and Henry drank theirs black.

Margo thought that the cookies were a store brand and probably with enough additives to survive into the next decade. It was unusual not to have homemade cookies at her mother’s when she was growing up. She thought that was the case in every home until she visited friends’ homes. There had been many homemade cookies that they had found frozen in the freezer which they had put out for the after-funeral crowd. Both Heather and Margo wondered how her mother had had the strength to make them. Then again, they were not dated.

“May I talk to you alone, Margo?” Henry asked.

“Nothing you can’t say in front of me.” Heather’s pout reminded Margo of her sister’s teenage pout.

“I’m on a business mission. I may have a new client for her, but the woman wants to remain anonymous,” Henry said.

Heather didn’t see his wink. Margo did, telling her he was fibbing. “How about outside? I need some fresh air.” At Henry’s statement, Heather looked slightly mollified.

Margo threw a coat over her shoulders. They walked down the path leading to his house.

Until her final illness, Medora had flower beds on each side of the path, a chore Heather had taken over. Her mother loved black-eyed-susans and sneezeweeds. Yellow daffodils and yellow Iris would announce spring. Margo never understood how her mother could have so little interest in art yet made color a major part of her garden. Never understood was probably the best way to describe her relationship with her mother. At least she hadn’t duplicated the problem with Bethany. “What’s up, Henry?”

He reached into his pocket to pull out a small, blue case. When he opened it, the gold leaf ring with the diamond spine was revealed. It was the same ring as she had found in her mother’s coat a year or so ago. She had never mentioned it to her mother or her sister.

Henry made sure he stood so he blocked Heather’s view, if she were looking out any of the windows. Enough leaves had fallen off the trees for Medora’s windows to give a view, albeit limited, between the two houses.

“Your mother wanted you to have this. It goes back several generations. She said it always went to the youngest daughter in a family. She trusted me to make sure I completed the mission.”

When Margo took the case, the late afternoon light caught the gold. Henry took it back, shut the case and slipped it into Margo’s coat pocket. “I thought Heather might be jealous.”

“Thank you, Henry. I know why my mother liked you.”

Two Months of Trump Terror

 This is a guest blog from journalist Rick Adams.

 

Two Months of Trump Terror – To Come

 We’ve heard Donald Trump repeatedly state that his War against Iran will end “after the midterms.”

Why then? Why not now? What’s the holdup?

The reason lies in the electoral calendar and the two-month gap between the November 3 midterm elections and the January 3 swearing-in of the new Congress.

Regardless of the midterm results, during November and December Trump will still enjoy lame-duck Republican majorities in the House and Senate. And, since he won’t need to be concerned any longer about what voters think, he will be free to create whatever chaos he wants without being held to account.

Bomb Iran.

Invade Cuba.

Have the US military shoot domestic protesters.

Steal more taxpayer money for this family.

There will be nothing… nothing… to stop him. Certainly not the spineless Congress. Certainly not the corrupt Supreme Court.

After January 3, 2027, assuming the Democrats capture control of Congress – if they don’t blow it with infighting – Trump, Hegseth, Miller, Rubio, RFKjr, Blanche and others should be hauled before committees to testify under oath to their numerous crimes of recent years. Including and especially the Epstein files.

The Democrats must not give them a pass in the name of ‘national unity.’

It should be so relentless that many Administration officials may resign in disgrace, including Trump. All should be sent to jail, including Trump.

That’s why he is fighting on so many legal fronts to prevent people from voting. Sending ICE goons to polling locations to intimidate people not to vote. Attempting to seize voting machines and ballot boxes in order to allege fraud. Every twist his evil cabal can think of, whether illegal or unconstitutional, as they did when he lost in 2020.

Once the Blue Wave is confirmed, after many court challenges, JD Vance and other Republicans may try to prevent the newly elected Democrats from taking their seats on January 3 – as Mike Johnson did in delaying Adelita Grijalva for 36 days after she won a special election in Arizona. It could be weeks or months before all of the Congress is rightfully seated and business can be conducted.

Meantime, Trump and whoever has not jumped ship and fled to a non-extradition country will continue their campaign of revenge against the American people and the rest of the world.

Trump will not go willingly or quietly. He will use a scorched-earth approach to destroy everything he has not already burned down.

Be ready for anything, America.

 

 

I'm A News Junkie

 

As a news junkie living in Europe, I can easily get the news from several countries, which gives a much wider point of view than from any one country or any station.

As a writer, who has been a journalist, I can easily recognize wording that does everything from shading the news to out-right propaganda. 

That the billionaire oligarchs Ellisons would now control too much of America's media bothers me if the deal giving them control of CNN goes through.

Meanwhile on CNN although I like their commentators, their ads drive me nuts. If I turn on CNN ten times, eight will be showing promos for their own programs not news. These promos can be repeated many times in the same hour to a point I can mouth the words along with the program. 

I like Becky Anderson's suits and Amanpour's pink sweater. 

I can notice when a hair is out of place or the blonds have died their roots. 

Is that Richard Quest's dog riding with him?

Rather than watch, it is much easy to switch to English, German, French, Japanese or Al Jazeera news stations. I can compare what stories are covered and how.

CNN finally, FINALLY got rid of the cartoon of people swimming in a pool that was showed at the top of almost every hour followed by a list of hotels that had the CNN channel. They ran that promo for years.

We were watching today. The same woman chef from Africa was in the ad that had appeared umpty ump times. "I've seen her so often, I feel like I'm sleeping with her," my husband said.

I'm not worried. I just change the channel.

 

The Ring Chapter 4

 

HENRY WILLIS    

THE VOLVO PURRED down the street. Twelve years old. The car still ran like new, well, new with replacement parts, oil changes, and tender loving care. Henry’s car was his buddy. It had driven him to a lot of memories.

Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t care that much about new cars. His neighbor on one side had a Mercedes, the one on the other a Tesla. No way would he own a Tesla, not as long as that pumped up, arrogant squirrel had anything to do with the company.

By rights he should be a Republican. He and Medora had enough discussions, if one wanted to call it that, about the parties. Right before she died, Medora was mellowing. That wasn’t age but what they saw on the news, which sometimes they watched together.

Turning into his driveway, he smiled. He liked his house bought in the early 1980s. And unlike friends and clients with huge mortgages his had long been paid off. Henry knew he wasn’t a traditional consumer, but half frugal Yankee with a successful real estate agency.

His neighborhood had been built after World War II, an upscale Levittown. Over the decades, the houses no longer looked alike with additions, window changes and more.

The early days, when he was building his agency which now had 10 offices in the area, he wanted to move up to something bigger, better.

His wife had said no. The house was her home and if it had gained in value so be it. She wasn’t moving.

Interestingly, many of their neighbors felt the same. None seemed to follow the financial advice shown on television and sided with his wife.

Because it was a dead-end street, their kids played ball in the road. In the summer the families had neighborhood barbecues. Two had swimming pools which they opened to all at pool parties and relief from extra hot days.

When Mary died in a car crash, Henry was inundated with food as if every house sheltered a caterer just waiting to make a casserole.

He could have finally gotten a bigger house, but he couldn’t bring himself to sell his memories. Mary had been right.

Medora lived three doors down and had been widowed five years before Mary’s death. The two women had been friends.

It was natural the widow and widower would start dating, which thrilled the neighbors. Curtains were peeked through whenever the two left together or one went into the other’s house.

What they didn’t know, it was more of a friendship with very, very rare benefits. Sometimes a bad day for one or the other would lead to a cuddle then an overnight.

When Henry saw Medora’s daughters’ cars in Medora’s driveway, he guessed they were going through their mother’s belongings trying to decide what to keep and what to sell.

He had assigned his best real estate agent to help them with the sale. He told them he was too closely involved to be their direct agent. Margo understood, Heather did not.

He had a mission. A day before Medora died, she slipped a ring from a blue velvet box. When she opened it, he tried to remember if she wore it ever. Medora seldom wore anything but her wedding ring. Henry took that as a sign she didn’t want a new relationship.

For the same reason he continued to wear his wedding ring. When he was younger women would hit on Henry, but that hadn’t happened for a long time.

“Can you make sure Margo gets this, not Heather? It was my grandmother’s and her mother’s,” Medora said. Her voice had been weak, but the words were clear.

Henry wanted to make sure he had heard correctly. He had.

He knew Medora had no understanding of her younger daughter, where Heather was a golden-haired child. Even if he disagreed with Medora’s assessment of her girls, he felt that he had no right to interfere, so he took the ring, a gold leaf with diamonds in the middle. He slipped the ring into his shirt pocket.”

“It goes to the youngest girl. Family tradition. Not sure I understand it.” She took a hit of morphine. “It is what it is.”

He watched her eyes close.

“I’m so tired.”

Henry put the memory of the conversation aside and went home to get the ring. He didn’t drive back to Medora’s house, but walked, the ring safely in the blue velvet box.

 

He had a mission. A day before Medora died, she slipped a ring from a blue velvet box. When she opened it, he tried to remember if she wore it ever. Medora seldom wore anything but her wedding ring. Henry took that as a sign she didn’t want a new relationship.

For the same reason he continued to wear his wedding ring. When he was younger women would hit on Henry, but that hadn’t happened for a long time.

“Can you make sure Margo gets this, not Heather? It was my grandmother’s and her mother’s,” Medora said. Her voice had been weak, but the words were clear.

Henry wanted to make sure he had heard correctly. He had.

He knew Medora had no understanding of her younger daughter, where Heather was a golden-haired child. Even if he disagreed with Medora’s assessment of her girls, he felt that he had no right to interfere, so he took the ring, a gold leaf with diamonds in the middle. He slipped the ring into his shirt pocket.”

“It goes to the youngest girl. Family tradition. Not sure I understand it.” She took a hit of morphine. “It is what it is.”

He watched her eyes close.

“I’m so tired.”

Henry put the memory of the conversation aside and went home to get the ring. He didn’t drive back to Medora’s house, but walked, the ring safely in the blue velvet box.