Hot, Wild & Crazy:Loving in Silver 8(3)

By: Lynn Stark


It was nice to have fantasies. They kept a woman from getting bored. Laughing at herself, Maggie encouraged her children to put their toys aside and to finish their meal.

An hour later she was leaving the insurance office after a visit to the sheriff’s office for an accident report. She wasn’t happy. The insurance company said her SUV was totaled. The frame had sustained significant damage. With what they were offering her, she wouldn’t be able to buy a reliable replacement. It came as no surprise that the woman who had hit her had no insurance.

A pat on her hip made Maggie look down. It was Emily and she had a worried expression on her round little face. “It’ll be okay, Mama. We’ll buy you a new car.”

They had such big hearts. The three faces looking up at her wish such serious expressions, made her smile. “You will, huh? Well, we better get going. We don’t want to have to walk home.” She turned them in the direction where the car dealerships were located. It would take about fifteen minutes for them to walk it. “I think we need a walking song. Emily, you go first.”

Six walking songs later, they were at the dealership looking over cars. Having three three-year-olds arguing over what color car they should get began to give Maggie a headache. She smiled through it as the salesman showed her what he had in her price range.

It pained Maggie to get her checkbook out. She was a penny pincher. She wrote the check, hoping that she could get money out of the woman who had hit her, to make up the difference in what the insurance company was settling on her destroyed car. She made a call and by the time the paperwork was finished, three new car seats arrived, brought to her by her friend Amber.

Maggie was wiped out as they arrived home. Surprisingly, so were her kids. They normally outlasted her by an hour or so, but all fell onto the couch, yawning and rubbing their eyes as she began pulling their shoes off. She smiled as she looked at each one. They had been very good and she would have to think up a reward for them.

“How about we get your baths done and then I can make supper? Then you can watch a movie before you go to bed.”

It was still a few hours until their normal bedtime. She couldn’t alter their routine too much, or they would fuss. She figured they would fall asleep about halfway through the movie, so it would work out about right. She would carry them to bed, tuck them in, and then she could have her “mommy” time, which equated into a long soak in the tub with a glass of wine and a book.

Samuel nodded. “Okay, Mama. Can we have pizza?”

Brant fist pumped. “Yay! Pizza!”

“I want chicken bites,” Emily said, pouting.

And Maggie wanted a peaceful evening.

Wanting to avoid conflict at this point in a very long day, Maggie quickly agreed to make both. They ate the mini pizzas she made from scratch and the homemade chicken bites. It saved a lot of money to make the popular food for them. It was also a good way to avoid too much salt and preservatives.

When her children began nodding off at the table, Maggie discovered they weren’t averse to going to bed without watching a movie first. She herded them to two small rooms at the rear of the house. As she settled them into their beds after a visit to the bathroom, she kissed each sleepy face and gladly let each hug her tightly.

Maggie sighed as she left the boys’ bedroom. The house was so small. It was sweet, charming, and full of character, but it wouldn’t be long before she would have to have the addition built. She had already designed it and the thought of it made her smile. There would be three bedrooms built upstairs, two of which would be over the new master bedroom downstairs. She was incorporating two “towers” on the front corners, continuing her grandfather’s whimsical design.

The house had been left to her by her grandfather. He had died just four months after the triplets had been born. Maggie would be forever grateful that he had been alive to meet them. It saddened her, however, that he would not be around to be a positive influence on them. The man had had a special kind of character which had made him a favorite with people in the area.

The house, like the man, had character. She had been told since she was little that she and her grandfather were much alike. Maybe that’s why she was known as a quirky artist. The house was some kind of hybrid, a cross between an English cottage, a hobbit’s house, and something a Who would live in. There weren’t many straight lines. It appeared narrow, the front façade flaring toward the top, only to sweep back in to a narrow peak. It was painted a medium shade of violet. The front door was wooden and painted a bright, yellowish-green, a copper gargoyle’s face as the door knocker. The front window was round, the frame embedded with bottles of different colors that glowed in the morning light.

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