Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.
Find here: stories that creep up on you, poems to stumble over, and the weird words I hold them in.
Or, let me catch you at www.suzekay.com
Chapter 1... Chapter 15 ______________ Back at my desk with a bottle of wine, I listened to the day's conversation and transcribed it. To my chagrin, Janie was right. I'd lost it. I could hear it in the tone of my voice, pitching up and pinching in judgment with each successive question.
By Suze Kayabout a month ago in Chapters
Chapter 1 ... Chapter 14 ______________ "I can see you're reconsidering our friendship," she said with another sad smile.
By Suze Kay2 months ago in Chapters
Chapter 1 ... Chapter 13 ______________ "What were the signs at Hollow Hill Farm?" I asked her, leaning across the table. My voice had dropped to a murmur. She matched it.
Chapter 1 ... Chapter 12 ______________ After our confrontation in the park, it was like a storm had broken between us. Janie fielded my questions with grace, and I learned to read her mood and rein myself in. I noticed that she didn't like questions about Antonio when we ate in the Diner. She was freer when we walked outside, or on the rare occasions when the Diner was nearly empty and Sheila was our server.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 ________ Janie fiddled with her coffee cup, worrying its cardboard sleeve.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 ________ A cloud crossed the sun and Janie shivered. She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the diner.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 ________ The weather turned for the better overnight, replacing bitter gray skies with sunshine and a light, warm breeze. Janie met me outside the Somerset Diner, two to-go cups in hand.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 ________ That night, I dug deeper into the history of Second Story, the small empire of thrift stores the Robichauds ran.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 ________ As we ate, I thought that Eleanor's advice was right. Letting Janie lead was productive, even if it chafed. I'd suspected from the start that Janie was different from the Women Who Stayed. I now felt she was different from anyone else I'd ever spoken with, let alone interviewed. She had more to say, and she wouldn't be bullied into it.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 ________ That night, I called up a friend to vent. I paced around my kitchen with my cell clenched between my shoulder and my ear.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 ________ Sheila, still surly, dropped our food on the table. Pancakes for me, of course. I seemed to have run through the little goodwill my association with Janie afforded me. I tried to keep the conversation going over the meal, but Janie only gave me short, clipped answers while she repeated her birdlike performance of eating.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ________ This time around at the Somerset Diner, Janie arrived before I did. Sheila gave me a friendly wave as I pushed open the heavy glass door and brought me a coffee, unprompted. Unexpected.