Day 3: ANOTHER Self-Imposed 30-Day Writing Challenge

Okay, I’m going to take this story in a slightly different direction in this post.  I woke up with a few ideas that I want to play around with.  The “Sanctimommy” character is named Sondra for now.  I think it will be a nickname for Cassandra, but I’ll see.

This story was supposed to be a satire, but this morning a love interest popped into my head.  I’m going to call him Ryan.  This next scene will be from his point of view.  Here goes:

RYAN MEETS THE “SANCTIMOMMY”

One Tuesday morning, I was hanging out at the mall with my best friend’s wife Mandy and their 2-year old son Nicky.  My buddy Jake was traveling for work.  He was concerned about Mandy.  They were expecting their second child, but the first trimester had been rough on Mandy.  He wanted me to keep an eye on her while he was away.  So when Mandy asked if I could help her with Nicky while she ran a few errands at the mall, I agreed.  The first hour went smoothly, but eventually, Nicky couldn’t take it anymore.  He started to wail.

“Let’s just go,” Mandy sighed, shifting Nicky from one side to another.  Her brown eyes had dark circles under them.  Jake told me that the insomnia was worse this time around.  Nicky squirmed in her arms and reached behind her neck to yank on her blond ponytail.

“Here, let me take him,” I offered, reaching out and taking him from Mandy.  “Hey, buddy.  Why don’t you come to Uncle Ryan?”

“No,” he shrieked, slapping me across the face.  “Mommy!  Want Mommy!”  He swung at my face again, missing me by inches.

“Nicky, that’s enough.  No hitting,” Mandy said sternly, before turning to me.  “Are you okay?”  When I nodded, she leaned over the stroller and loosened the straps.  “Just put him in here and let’s go.”

Nicky emitted a high-pitched shriek as I set him down in the stroller.  It actually took the two of us to secure the safety belts and buckle him in.

As he continued to wail, I stood up, sweating slightly.  That’s when I saw her.  A young lady was heading in our direction.  She must have been a few years younger than I was, maybe in her late twenties.  I couldn’t control my sharp intake of breath.  Her face was unreal.  I stared at her large blue eyes, porcelain skin, and high cheekbones, all framed by long, dark waves.  I had the vague impression that she was dressed very conservatively, but I couldn’t stop gawking at her face.

She was even more gorgeous up close.  My pulse quickened as she came right up to the stroller and knelt down beside Nicky.  “You poor little hugless child,” the lady murmured, gently stroking his hair with slender, delicate fingers.  “I’m sure someone loves you.”

Stunned, I just gaped at her.  What did she just say?  I looked over at Mandy, who appeared as shocked as I was.  Before I could move, the lady unbuckled Nicky and lifted him up from the stroller.

Nicky stopped crying and stared into the stranger’s gorgeous face.  “Perhaps your child would cry less if you carry him,” the lady said with a slight smile, before handing Nicky to Mandy.

Speechless, I continued to stare at her.  Was this woman a friend of Mandy’s?  She had to be.  Nicky stopped crying in her arms.  He must know her.  Maybe it was an inside joke.  The woman nodded at Mandy and said, “It’s okay.  Now that you know better, you’ll do better.”

As the stranger walked away, I glanced at Mandy.  Her cheeks were stained beet red.  I came to my senses.  This wasn’t a joke.  “Who the hell do you think you are?” I called out after the stranger.

Mandy grabbed my arm before I could take a step in her direction.  “Just let her go,” she said, in an odd voice.  When I looked at her face, it was slightly green.

“Let’s get both of you out of here,” I said, forgetting the stranger.  At least, for the moment.

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4 thoughts on “Day 3: ANOTHER Self-Imposed 30-Day Writing Challenge

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