Fried Chicken

I heard the daily trivia question on an afternoon radio show asking what was one of the manly scent candles that rated in the top three. It reminded me of a humor piece I wrote a few years ago that I posted on Gather.com. Now for those of you who try to go to Gather, for some reason it isn't working on Firefox (which I use) but it does on Chrome (another one I use). I don't know if it works on Internet Explorer because every time I open it, my computer locks up and it does not matter which computer I use, so it's not a computer thing. At any rate, the piece was met with appreciative chuckles, so I thought I would re-run it here.

Fried Chicken

The other morning I had a very early appointment and I decided I would make a quick run by the grocery store for a few things afterwards.  The minute I opened the car door I was overtaken by the delightful and unmistakable scent of fried chicken.  I nearly forgot what it was I went to the store to get.  I went inside and somehow ended up at the deli counter.  The manager looked up at me expectantly.

“Isn’t it a little early for…”  I inhaled deeply and a dreamlike expression came over my face as I breathed out, ‘Fried Chicken?”  It was eight forty-five in the morning after all.

He laughed, of course, and asked if I’d like to buy some.  Of course I wanted to buy some, I wanted to buy it all and it must have been the equivalent of about three chickens.

Anyone who knows me knows I am from the Deep South.  Some odd twist fate has me living in Wisconsin.  I look for anything that reminds me of home.  Fried chicken should remind any true, died-in-the-wool southerner of home.  I remember walking home from Sunday morning church services and smelling the apple pies cooling by the windows and chicken frying for dinner.  God bless her, my mother can not fry chicken to save her life.  It’s almost un-American not to be able to do a good job frying chicken, but she, like many others with the same malady, is as patriotic as they come.  She just hasn’t got the patience for frying chicken.  She says it comes from having to come home from work and then make dinner for a large family in a short amount of time.  Until I was seven and went to Kentucky Fried Chicken for the first time I thought it was supposed to be black.  I almost wouldn’t eat it because I thought it was under-cooked!  After that first tasty bite it was difficult to get me to eat hers again.  And then years later she finally spills it- the truth behind the chicken.  She doesn’t like fried chicken.  Shock!!!  I wanted to take away her NASCAR memorabilia.  That’s just wrong. 

   

I have some ideas, however, for products involving the oh-so-tempting scent of fried chicken.  Everyone knows the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.  Well, the way to his stomach is through his nose.  If it doesn’t smell good, he’s not going to touch it.  Therefore all you single, but desperately seeking a husband, females out there, you need Parfum de Poulet Frit  (Fried Chicken Perfume.)  A little behind your ears and he’s yours for life.  Of course it might work a little too well and then you’ll just have to pick the one you like the best.   (Snicker, snicker) Then of course we have one for the Glade Company; you know, the ones who make all those scented candles.  There are all sorts of scents out there, not necessarily made by Glade.  I have seen (and smelled) French Vanilla, Pumpkin Pie Spice, Lavender, Gingerbread Cookie, Peppermint, and Fresh Apple Pie, just to name a few.  How about adding Fried Chicken scent to the mix?  Think about it…You want to impress someone with a great dinner but you just don’t have the time.  You go to the deli and pick up fried chicken with all the trimmings, an apple pie from the bakery, and then scented candles.  Go home, set the table, and place all the food into serving dishes (it would be tacky to use the deli containers- not to mention blow the illusion).  Get rid of the deli and bakery containers.  Light the candles- Fried Chicken Scent and Hot Apple Pie.  It fills the house with the scents of someone who has spent hours in the kitchen preparing a delicious meal.  They are extremely impressed with you and they never have to know the truth.  Works for me! 

The Surprise

"Maggie, I love you. I've waited years to tell you that," he said as she got dressed.

"Now you tell me. You're leaving for St. Louis in a few hours for that new job. Besides, office romances are awkward at best. It wouldn't have worked," she told him. She grabbed a cup of coffee. "I have to go." She kissed him. "That was a great going away party last night. I'm sure going to miss you." She walked out without a backward glance.

"It ended well anyhow, even if did have to get drunk to give in," he said to her retreating figure.

Owen strode into the front room of his former office. Trudy, the secretary, jumped up and started to cry out when she saw him put a finger to his lips. She hugged him instead.

"It is so good to see you," she whispered. "How do you like your new job?"

"It's not here, but it's good, and I did go from VP of Operations to President of Operations, so there is that," he answered. "You look fabulous. Is she in?"

Trudy nodded and motioned towards Maggie's opened door. "As usual," she said quietly. "Working with the door open. I think I'll go discuss something with somebody in another office."

Owen chuckled and nodded as Trudy left closing the door softly behind her. Owen walked to Maggie's door and watched her working. She had that look she always had when she thought no one was looking; serious, concentrating, a hand partially submerged in her hair as she read over documents, holding her pen in the same hand as the papers. He glanced around her office and noticed her usual full pot of coffee was replaced with just plain hot water and a box of herbal tea. Since when did she give up coffee? She practically lived on it. He stared at her again. Was it his imagination or had she put on a little weight? He tapped on the door frame.

Maggie looked up and dropped the pen she held in her hand. She almost stood and then just folded her arms in front of her on her desk and leaned forward. She smiled that smile she had always had just for him. Her eyes sparkled like bright stars on a clear night.

"Maggie, it is so good to see you," he said. "It feels like forever since I left.

"Seven months," she said. "I'm sure you've been busy with your new job." She stared at him fighting back tears. "I really have missed you."

"Tea?" he said indicating her cup. "What's up with that?"

"Caffeine is not for the… It's not good for me to have so much," she replied. "So what brings you to town?"

"We have a manufacturing plant not up to par. I came to see what the problem is," he said. "I thought I'd visit my old stomping grounds while I'm here."

"We're still plugging along. I'm still VP of Marketing. Not much has changed except Bill got your old job."

"Good choice. So, you seeing anybody?" he asked. Now that was subtle, he thought.

"No. I'm too busy for that," she answered. "You?"

"Same here." His watch beeped. He sighed as he checked the time. "Listen, I've got to go. If I get the chance, I'll stop back by before I leave."

"Okay, maybe we can catch some lunch and catch up," she said.

"That would be great," he said. He leaned over her desk and kissed her. She had tears in her eyes when he pulled away and he brushed one off her cheek. "Don't cry Maggie."

She sniffed. "It was really good seeing you. You'd better get to that meeting."

Owen opened the door to leave and almost ran into Trudy. "Oh good; I wanted to tell you good bye. What's up with her anyway?" he asked. "She's switched to tea instead of coffee. Now she's in there crying."

Trudy smiled broadly. "So it was you," she said.

"What was me?"

"She didn't tell you. Well, it's her place not mine," Trudy said.

Owen looked at her curiously. "If I had time to decipher that, I would stick around and chat, but I have to go." He handed her his card. "Call me sometime Trudy. I'll try to stop in tomorrow."

Trudy walked into Maggie's office. "That's one mystery solved. Why didn't you didn't tell him?"

"It wasn't the right time," was all Maggie said as she blew her nose and grabbed another tissue to wipe her eyes.

Roses arrived the next day with a message from Owen. 'Sorry I can't stop in. I got called back to the home office. Call me. Owen.' He had written his cell number on the card. Maggie shook her head sadly and set it aside.

Two months later…

Owen sat at his desk after the long board meeting where he had detailed the changes he had implemented at the failing manufacturing plant to get it back up to expected production goals. They were pleased and were celebrating at a local restaurant. He begged off stating he was just too tired. The truth was he hadn't been sleeping since his trip back to Chicago. He couldn't keep Maggie off his mind. He checked through the messages on his phone. He had a missed call.

"Owen, this is Trudy. Maggie is in the hospital. You need to come."

"What happened? Which hospital?" he screamed at the phone.

"Sir, are you all right?" his secretary asked, peeking around the door.

"A friend of mine in Chicago is in the hospital. I need to get there as soon as I can," he told her.

"Do you want me to call the pilot to get the jet ready?" she asked.

"No, I can't use the company jet for personal use. I can hitch a ride with someone else though. Call around and see if anyone is heading that way or get me on the soonest commuter flight, will you Joan? And, get me a rental car for when I get there. I'll want to go straight away for the hospital." He grabbed his jacket and started dialing the missed call number. "Thank you so much Joan."

"Sure," she said. "I'll text you the information."

It went straight to message. "Trudy," he said. "I'm on my way. Which hospital is she in?"

Owen ran into the University Medical Center. Trudy had texted him the facility and address. "Ma'am," he said to the volunteer behind the information desk. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. I understand she was admitted here today."

"The name?" the woman asked.

"Maggie, Margaret," he corrected. "Margaret Raye."

She consulted her computer. "She doesn't have a room listed yet." She pointed to the elevator. "Just tell the attendant you need the maternity ward."

"Thanks," he said, and then stopped in his tracks. Maternity ward? He squeezed his eyes shut. That's why she wouldn't stand up; I'd see she was pregnant.

Owen set down a vase of flowers on a side table and stared at the squirming infant wrapped in a blue blanket. He smiled as he read the card. Baby Boy Mayer. Parents: Margaret Raye- Mother, Owen Mayer- Father. He leaned over and kissed Maggie and she woke up.

"Owen?" she asked. "How did you know?"

"Trudy called. Will you marry me now?"

She just nodded yes as she took his hand in hers. 

Murder So Convenient Now Available for Kindle!

My first published book Murder So Convenient is now available for purchase at Amazon.com in Kindle format.It was first released in 2003 as a paperback.  Next week, January 31, 2014 through February 4, 2014, as a promotional program, Murder So Convenient in Kindle format will be available for FREE! Please stop by Amazon.com and purchase your copy of Murder So Convenient now (or next week!)

About Murder So Convenient
A serial killer is loose in Chicago and the police seem helpless to stop him. Intertwined is the story of Catherine, a victim of spousal abuse, who makes friends with Shawna McGreggor after going to work at a convenience store. Catherine's husband is relentless in his pursuit of his estranged wife. To what lengths will he go to get her back?

Shawna is in the sights of the killer who is just waiting until he gets the opportunity to get to her too. As the the ladies get acquainted with the detectives on the case, one of them, Richard Collins, falls in love with Shawna, jeopardizing both her and his career. Will he be able to protect her from the killer? Or will she become his latest victim?

(The paperback version from the original publisher is also available in limited quantities.)

Reviews of Murder So Convenient can be found on the paperback version's customer review page.

Don't Mess with Red

Lena Mitchel sat at her desk finishing up the bill for her last client at the family’s personal security business.

“Red, we have a new client,” her father said from his desk. “I need you to take it.”

Lena smiled at her father. “What’s it about Dad?”

“Wealthy corporate types with a teenage son. They take him with them on occasion but always farm him out to bodyguards. He gets into a lot of stuff like most teenagers. He wants attention and they won’t give it to him.”

“Why do I have to play babysitter? I’m a highly qualified and skilled bodyguard. And why is it Nick can’t do it? He’s a huge kid himself,” she said, pointing to her brother at another desk.

“Are you daft? He has no business around an impressionable boy.”

“Yeah Red, I hate kids.”

“You are not allowed to call me Red; only Dad,” she retorted.

“He only calls you that because you have Grandma’s red hair,” Nick told her.

“And her Irish temper!” her father said. “You best remember that. As far as why your brother cannot take the case; the last time he handled kids he gave them alcohol.”

“And the little beasts settled right down into compliance,” Nick added proudly.

“They trashed the hotel room and ran up a huge bill that I had to cover because their parents were going to sue us if we didn’t,” their father interjected.

"What? That's not normal?" Nick asked.

“Point taken,” Lena said. “Okay, give me the file and I’ll go over it before I go home.”

Her father laid the file on her desk. “You’ve had a long day. You can go over it tomorrow. Go get some rest.”

“Alright,” she agreed. She slipped her dress shoes off and put them in a desk drawer and pulled on her Nike sneakers.

“Are you walking through the park?” Her father asked.

“Sure,” she answered. “I usually do.”

“There was a report on the news about some guy attacking women in the park. You’d think they would have caught him by now, but they haven’t, so be careful.”

She kissed him on the forehead. “Thanks Dad for caring. I’ll be careful.”

Lena zipped her jacket as she entered the park. She breathed in the fresh cool fall air enjoying the fading light of the sunset. Suddenly she felt an arm around her neck and was being dragged into the woods that lined the park. She grabbed the man at the elbow and gasped.

“Just relax and this won’t take long,” he said.

Lena let go of his arm. “I should let you know that in the time it took for you to say that little spiel, I thought of six ways to kill you. If you’re lucky I’ll only subdue you,” she said.

He laughed. “I have a knife. Do you?”

“I don’t need one. Do you?”

“You women are all alike. Bluff all you want; you are not getting away.”

“So you really want to take that chance,” she laughed.

He pressed the knife top into her ribs. “Do you?”

Lena elbowed him hard and kicked his shin. As he grabbed for his side and rubbed his shin she spun around and kneed him in the groin and then she punched him in the nose. He fell to the ground cursing and screaming. He tried to get up and hit her. Lena wrapped one arm around neck and locked it in the other, cutting his circulation off until he passed out. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed the police.

“Now Lena, why did you go and have to put that sleeper hold on him?” Officer Tilford asked her. “You know how dangerous that is.”

Lena laughed and smacked the reached down and rubbed a place on the man’s neck. He started to rouse. 

“No he’s awake.”

The officer cuffed the man behind his back and sat him up against a tree while they waited for the paramedics. His partner stood up the hill to guide them down when they arrived.

“What’s your name?” the officer asked his prisoner.

He looked up and saw Lena. “Keep her away from me,” he demanded.

“Well, she says she warned you. You should have listened, and my experience with her is that when she tells you she can kick your butt; she is about to. You might want to keep it civil.”

“I’m telling you that bitch is crazy,” he said.

Lena leaned back on one heel and kicked him in the head knocking him over. “I am not a bitch.”

“What did I just tell you about keeping it civil? Lena! You can fill out the report tomorrow. You need to go home now.”

The man struggled to get back up. His head was bleeding where he hit a rock. “Did you see that? She kicked me!”

“I didn’t see anything except you falling over. Hey Conolly? Did you see anything?”

“I didn’t see anything either,” he replied, grinning. “Do I need to have the medic take a look at Lena?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll you gents in the morning.” She growled at the man in handcuffs and stomped her foot at him. “Not so tough after all; are you?” She walked away laughing.

Lena called her father to let him know she was okay and was actually surprised he hadn’t already called her or shown up. He would have heard the call on his police scanner and been worried. She realized she was on speaker as she heard her brother laughing and her father smack him on the back of the head when she told him what happened.

“I told you to be careful.”

“I know Dad. I was. He was just really quick on the draw until he had me. Then he got cocky and I had the upper hand. I’m fine. I’ll be in after I fill out the report in the morning.”

“All right. But be careful!” he reiterated.

Lena shook her head and disconnected the call. “Like you always tell Nick, Dad,” she said to the disconnected phone. “Don’t mess with Red.”

(Let me know if you think I should write more about 'Red').

Celebrating the True Meaning of the Holidays

Are you worried about the way the holiday season is becoming so commercialized? Are you wondering what to do that reminds others of the true meaning of the holidays? Here are some ideas that may help.

•  Go ahead and buy some gifts, maybe a few toys for the kids, but let them pick out a few to give to a homeless shelter or to a local toy drive. This will teach them the meaning of generosity and compassion for others who are less fortunate. 
•   Donate to a food drive. Many businesses have drop boxes where one can leave individual items, or even at grocery stores, purchase sealed bags of groceries with various staple items and necessities. The contents depend upon the price of the bag and this can vary widely depending on the store. Locally, I've seen them range from $5.00 to $50.00.
• Make a gift basket of baked goods and jams or jellies, candy and a nice homemade card and then take it to an elderly neighbor who may be alone over the holidays. (If possible, make sure the foods you put in the basket are not a health risk to the person.) A fruit basket might be a better choice.
• Are you handy with a crochet hook or knitting needles? Make hats, scarves, gloves, or perhaps an afghan and donate them to a clothing drive. Get your children involved by letting them choose some of the colors, or better yet, if they are also able to crochet and knit, have them make some of the items.
• Take your children to visit a nursing home. Call ahead to make arrangements with the director so that those who may be immune-compromised are not around the visitation area.  Take some blankets or cookies and perhaps sing some Christmas carols with the residents.
• Volunteer as a bell ringer with the Salvation Army. You can take your kids along to help. I've seen volunteers singing carols while they rang the bell. It was entertaining and I saw a lot of people dropping money into the kettle.
• Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Some families make this a family tradition. It helps children to be more thankful for what they have.

I hope you find these ideas useful.

Have a safe and happy holiday season, no matter what you are celebrating