Weekly Update

     The last week went well at 5931 words, bringing the current draft to 24660.  My word count goal for this MS is 40K, and I plan to have it done by the end of the month, which is very doable if I meet my 5K word goal each week. The problem with that? There are some submission calls going on right now that I'd like to enter, but I'm not ready. So now the question becomes, do I stick to my original plans: finish this MS, hit the edits for this and Embers and Flame, do some suggested edits to When Silverfish Dance, and start the rewrites for Headphones? Then start querying the collection at the first of the year? Or do I shuck all that, at least for the next few weeks, and jump in feet first? Argh! I'm so very confused on what to do next.

this week's excerpt:

           Reese froze in the bathroom doorway when he heard a moan. He waited, almost afraid of what would follow as he pictured Jeb coupled with Jordan on that small bed, but the next sound was closer to a sob than a cry of ecstasy and he left the warmth of the steam-filled room and moved towards Jordan’s door. The sounds coming from his room were definite words now. “Stop. No. I’m sorry. I won’t. Dad, I won’t!” He tapped on the door, but when no answer came, he pushed his way in. A strip of light fell across the bed, enough for Reese to see Jordan with his blankets kicked off and his hands clutching at the bottom sheet as if he was trying to hang onto a rocking surface.

Reese sat down at the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to give him a gentle nudge as he said Jordan’s name simply because he was afraid of his reaction if he woke to find someone standing over him. Still, Jordan yelled and cowered as he came awake. “It’s just me. It’s Reese.”

“Reese?” Jordan’s voice cracked as he looked around the room before they settled on the man sitting on the end of his bed, his eyes wild and huge with too much white showing.

“You were having a bad dream,” Reese offered, as if Jordan didn’t know it.

Jordan didn’t say anything as a sob tightened his throat. The bed was shaking; he was trembling so hard that Reese could feel it. “Come on,” he said as he laid his hand on Jordan’s where it lay, still twisted in the sheet.

“Where?” he asked as Reese took his hand and tugged at him. Their palms slipped and Jordan almost pulled away to wipe the sweat away but it was as if Reese could read his mind and he tightened his grip.
Reese didn’t answer. Once Jordan was up, he led him down the hall to his room and pulled his blanket back, nodding his head towards the bed. For a moment, he thought Jordan was going to argue, but with a sigh, he crawled in and rolled up into a ball. Reese went around to the other side and slid in between the covers after he turned off the small bedside lamp. He rolled towards Jordan. The younger man was still trembling, so he smoothed his hand up and down his back, rubbing at his shoulder and neck until the shaking stopped and his breath became soft and even.
“What was that about?” he wondered as he rolled onto his back, putting a few inches between them on the bed. He lay awake for the next hour, thinking back over the last month. He had become so comfortable sharing his space with this man, even though they rarely spoke about anything except what was going on in their present. And yet, Reese had found a contentment in his life that he’d never had. There was a different ambiance in the trailer now, something stable that he hadn’t noticed was missing until now. Even when Jordan wasn’t there, when he was at work, Reese felt his spark, his energy. He wanders the house and yard restlessly in the mornings, tinkering and piddling around, looking for anything to occupy his time as he waits for Jordan to come home. He gets anxious when he’s late. He’s not sure when it happened, how Jordan has become more than a homeless kid who needed a place to stay and is now an integral part of his life. 

His quiet calm, his low chuckles when they watch movies, the way he quietly moves around, singing softly as he cleans, have permeated the tin can and made it into a home, again. It hadn’t felt that way to Reese since his grandparents died. It had just been a place where he slept from time to time. A place where he kept his clothes. He didn’t know what it meant or why he was only then starting to realize it, but the question was his last thought as he finally fell asleep to the sound of Jordan breathing next to him.