Here’s the final installment of my Month of Thanksgiving Stories. I hope you’ve enjoyed them all.

Hiking It Out

Kelly picked up the ringing phone from the coffee table. “Hello?” She didn’t bother to sit up from her position on the sofa where she’d been napping.
“Kelly, it’s Marsha. It’s a glorious day and the weather this afternoon is perfect. Let’s go out to Monroe Lake and take a walk.”
Kelly ran her hand through her short, now graying, red hair. She didn’t want to go anywhere. Why didn’t everyone just leave her alone? “Ummm, I don’t know. I’m kind of busy.”
“It’s gorgeous out, Kelly. I’m dying to get out into the sunshine before winter sets in. Come with me.”
Marsha called every day. Kelly knew her best friend meant the best but sometimes the woman got on her last nerve. “I don’t know. I’m not ready to go.”
“Nonsense,” Marsha responded. “It’s been three months. I’ll be over in twenty minutes. Be ready.”
The line clicked off. Kelly sighed, phone still against her ear, head still on the throw pillow. She opened her eyes and hit the button to end the call. She didn’t feel like moving. Why was Marsha being such a pain?
She pushed up to a sitting position. The living room was dark. She hadn’t opened the curtains since her husband died in the car accident in early July. Kelly stood up. That seemed like more effort than it was worth. But she knew Marsha would be at the door in a few minutes. The woman was a stickler for being on time.
In the bedroom, Kelly peeled off the t-shirt and sweatpants she’d been wearing for the last four days. Should I take a shower? She glanced through the bedroom door into the adjoining bathroom. It didn’t seem like it was worth the effort. Instead, she pulled a pair of hiking pants and a t-shirt out of the dresser and put them on. Hiking socks were in another drawer, rolled up and ready to go.
She and her husband, Jim, used to go hiking every weekend. They loved hiking around Monroe Lake, especially this time of year. The oaks and beeches and maples made a riot of color reflected in the glassy lake waters. Tears began to leak from her eyes. She sat on the bed, socks forgotten in her hand.
The doorbell rang, startling her out of her grief. She wiped her eyes with the socks, still in her hand and shuffled downstairs to the door.
Marsha took one look and rushed forward. “Oh, Kelly,” and embraced her best friend. When they broke apart, Marsha took a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her friend’s eyes. “You need to get outside. Where are your boots?”
Marsha went through the house like a whirlwind. She ran upstairs and found Kelly’s hiking boots and as Kelly sat on the stairs to put them on, combed through the house to find Kelly’s backpack and water bottles. “There,” she said as she dropped Kelly’s wallet in the pack and zipped it up. “You’re ready.”
Kelly nodded, using the banister to lift herself up.
They didn’t say anything on the hour ride to the lake. On their way up the mountain, Kelly stared out of the window as the scenery rushed by. Marsha pulled the car into a small trailhead parking area. It was nothing more than a wide shoulder but there was room for four or five cars.
Kelly stood at the rear of the car looking into the woods.
“Remember when you and I came up here a few years ago in the middle of the week?” She chuckled as she pulled the packs out of the trunk and handed Kelly hers. “It was hot that day and we decided to go skinny dipping in the cove on the other side of the lake.”
Kelly smiled as she put on the pack. “Yeah, those Boy Scouts got a little more scenery than they expected.”
Marsha laughed. “Yes they did.” She closed the trunk. Let’s go.”
She fell in behind Kelly and they stepped into the woods. Kelly kept a slow pace. She hadn’t done anything but lie on the sofa since the funeral. It was cool at the beginning. This area was white pine and shady all year long. She took a breath, drawing the pine scent from the trees deep into her lungs. Around the curve of the hill they came to the lake.
October is the best time of year to go hiking. No bugs, the air is clear and crisp. That’s what Jim always said. Her heart constricted as she brought up the memory of walking with him on this very trail. She took a deep breath in an effort to stop the tears from flowing. The women were walking through the leaves fallen from the maples and beech that grew in this part of the valley. She could smell the earthiness of the leaves and the moist ground under them. The carpet of leaves made a kaleidoscope of color on the ground. She loved the dry rustle as she shuffled through them on the trail.
Every viewpoint on the lake brought another wash of memories of her and Jim hiking here. Halfway around the lake Marsha said, “Let’s take a breather.” She led them over to a high point of rocks jutting out over the lake. “You can see the whole length of the lake from here.” She pulled off her pack and sat on the rocks, her legs dangling over the edge.
Kelly nodded as she sat beside her friend. She pulled a bottle of water out of the pack and drank, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Marsha handed her a sandwich. As she chewed, she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. The iron grip around her heart loosened a little.
“Yeah,” she said to Marsha. “I guess it is time to get out.”
The End
982 Words
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Here’s a story based on my new series, Gulliver Station. The first book of the series, Gulliver Station: A New Start should be released near the end of January. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter where you’ll get first dibs on any promotions, book announcements, and other information. Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up.

Gulliver Station Thanksgiving

Aine McCarthy was packing a lunch for her husband Dillon to take with him to work. “You know,” she said as he came into the kitchen, “Next week it will be one year we’ve been on Gulliver Station.”

He peeked inside the cloth bag she handed him. “Corned beef again?” he grinned.

“Go on with ya,” she smacked him in the shoulder. “It’s your favorite.”

He laughed as he pulled her close. “It is, and you’re my favorite for making it for me.” Then he gave her a long, slow kiss.

When they broke apart, he caressed her hair. “What were you sayin’ about next week?”

She reached up and pulled his hand to her heart. “It’s one year since we arrived. I think we should get some friends together for a little supper.”

He shrugged, “Sure’n that’s a fine thing by me.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I have to get to work.”

She walked him to the door. “See ya tonight.”

Aine contacted her friends. Some she knew and still was in touch with from the ship voyage out to the station from Earth. Some were new friends she’d met after they arrived. They all thought a celebration was a great idea.

The day of the dinner, Aine made a huge roast lamb. Not real lamb, of course. Gulliver Station wasn’t nearly ready to produce actual meat products. She’d had the soi-lamb before and found it to be nearly as good as the real product. As she was beggar poor before she and Dillon came here, she’d never had more than a taste of the real thing anyway. The rest of the guests were bringing the side dishes and desserts.

Dillon finished setting up the dining room table as a buffet and was opening a few plastic bottles of wine and one of whisky. Some entrepreneur from Old Earth Ireland was producing a rough whisky here on the station. Dillon thought it wouldn’t be long before the man perfected the recipe.

The guests began arriving and either Dillon or Aine greeted them at the door. Soon the table was loaded with food.

As drinks were poured and plates filled, they joked with each other about the change the move to the station had made in their lives.

“Aine,” Fiona Scally called out across the room. “Do you remember the first day you and I went to the Level 4 market?”

Aine blushed, “Of course I do.”

“You were so new, you didn’t even know what half the vegetables were in the market.”

The friends laughed good naturedly. It was the same for all of them. Most of them were near to homeless when they’d applied to come to the station. Most of them only ate once a day. “And why not, when I didn’t have a pot to cook them in,” Aine tossed back.  They all laughed again.

“And you, Clyde Bannon,” Dillon called to his friend on the sofa. “You hadn’t held a job a day in your life. I remember having to help you in the Dock Worker classes so you wouldn’t fail out.”

Clyde raised his glass to Dillon. “Very true, here’s to you, dragging me along with ye.”

The guests all cheered and toasted with them.

Dillon put his plate down. He raised his glass again. “Here’s to all of us. The day we decided to apply to come here was the best day of our lives. Gulliver Station, a place where we’re safe, housed, fed and have decent work for decent wages.”

“Here, here!” they all cheered and drank.

The End

598 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html