We live side by side by side. Our names are Kathy, Kathy and Kathy…not even a spelling differential. We are all widowed. Listen to me…even I can’t make this stuff up.
I live on a perfectly lovely street with perfectly lovely neighbors. I reside in a house on the north side of the street. Kathy lives beside me, and the other Kathy lives beside her. Some years ago, within a relatively short span of time, all three of us had husbands who decided, in one fashion or another, that a trip to the great beyond was in order, and they all boarded that little boat to heaven…like in Guys and Dolls, but without the singing. We miss them, but that’s not the point of the story.
We have many friends on our street, wonderful women all, and we get together at Perkins for breakfast on a fairly regular basis. It’s been a tradition for years. We usually fill a table for eight. When you get eight women together, there is much chatting and swapping of updates on the knee replacements, operations, the kids and grandkids, stories about friends of friends, retirements, babysitting, vacations, etc.
And, then they ask me what I’m writing. On this particular occasion, I was excited to tell them about a new story idea. Animated, I began: “This may sound familiar. The story goes like this… There are three widows, all with the same name, living side by side by side, and they have grown lonely over time. Suddenly a wife dies…taken…just like that…on the opposite side of the street, leaving behind the first eligible man they have known in nearly a decade. And – he is only across the street. They mourn his wife, but immediately begin to dote on him, stopping by, doing his laundry, cleaning, delivering to him all manner of casseroles and baked goods. They begin to feud among themselves and things get nasty as they strive to outdo one another and garner his affection. He seems oblivious to what is going on between them…you might say he is clueless, which only spurs them on to greater groveling and desperation.” I stop and tell them, “That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I haven’t decided how it’s all going to end.” They laugh, of course, because they know where the idea of the three widows came from. All three of us are sitting there at the table. Then my friends from the other side of the street ask, “Which one of us are you killing off?”
I haven’t told them yet. They are on a need to know basis. I’m still tossing it around in my head. I love being a writer. Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee.
LOVE IT! LOVE IT! LOVE IT!
Even if, I DO live across the street:-)
Well, since you love it so much, I may have to let you live. 🙂
I can’t wait for the next chapter. This has potential. You will have us all hanging, waiting for the next installment. Get busy~ we are waiting. . . .
Yes, this is the one you need to concentrate on. I think it’s your breakthrough book!
You guys are funny. I haven’t even started it yet.
Kathy, I was reading your blog quickly and not following that you were writing fiction and I was like….wait? who died on my side of the street?! HAHAHAHA. Keep this up, girl!
Oh my, that reminds me of my Christmas letter two years ago. I wrote that Jess had presented me with a grandpuppy and people thought she had had a baby. You would not have believed the phone calls. This conversation actually did happen at one of our breakfasts. 🙂