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Tuesday, September 20, 2016


Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. Maggie's Story continues this week. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 


“I’m coming, I’m coming,” called Anne Roberts, bustling into the kitchen, brandishing a pen. “Where do I sign?”
Her husband was hunched over, writing his name on a document. He finished, stood and looked at his wife.
“I’ve never been a witness to a marriage before. I mean not in the legal sense. I mean signing my name and all.”
“Anne, you’re cute. You signed our marriage license,” Mr. Roberts said.
“Oh, yes, that’s right. I did.” She colored a becoming shade of pink. “Where should I?”
“Right here, Missus,” John said, pointing to a line with an “x” on it.
“Very good, John. Thank you.”
The butler took Maggie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. His eyes glowed as he glanced at her.
“There you go,” Anne said, straightening up.
“Congratulations,” Mr. Roberts said, shaking John’s hand. Anne gave them each a hug.
“Here’s a little something for the wedding,” the master of the house said, slipping a check into John’s hand.
“Thank you, sir. It’s official, my lady. We’re married, ceremony or no,” John chuckled.
Maggie picked at a tissue in her hand. Her eyes watered with happiness and fear.
Anne handed a bottle of champagne to her husband. He poured four glasses.
“To a long and happy life together,” he said, raising his flute.
What happens when John finds out what I’ve done?
Maggie’s stomach clenched.



Monday, September 12, 2016


Welcome! Maggie's Story continues with an excerpt written to the prompt "paper". Don't forget to return to read the great Tuesday Tales authors. Scroll down for the link. 


Maggie didn’t believe John was serious about marriage until the night he pulled something from his pocket, and it wasn’t a ring.
 “What’s this?” She asked as he opened an envelope.
“Marriage license. Seems we need one to get hitched in this country.”
He flattened the sheet of paper and pointed to an empty line with an “x” next to it.
“Sign here.”
“Just you wait one pretty minute, John Eldridge,” she said, bringing the document closer.
“You don’t trust me?” His eyes widened.
She shot him  skeptical look before turning her gaze  back to the writing.
“What did you think it was?” He asked.
“Dunno. Just want to make sure.”
“I’ve already signed it.”
She put the paper down as water clouded her vision. John ran his hand down her arm, his voice gentle.
“Did you think I proposed to you only for sex? I meant every word.”
“I see,” she choked out.
“What’s wrong?”
“Haven’t been too many been good to me, is all. Just makin’ sure.”
He kissed the top of her head and slipped his arm around her. “Let’s spend our days bein’ good to each other.”
She smiled up at him. “Sounds all right to me.” Maggie bent over the kitchen counter and signed her name. “There you go.”
John lowered his mouth to hers for a deep kiss. Maggie melted in his arms for a moment before she regained her senses and stepped back.
“Stop. The Missus'll be here any moment with Penn.”
“Okay, but you’re hard to resist.”
Shooting him a shy smile, she patted his chest and watched him tuck the license back in his breast pocket.
“It’s done, you know.”
“Once you sign the paper, we’re legally married.”
“Without a proper preacher?"

“Yep. Too late to back out now, Maggie, my girl.”
"You old trickster!" She smiled up at him. 

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Monday, September 5, 2016


John could stand it no longer. He never interfered in the Roberts’ conversations with their guests, but today, he had no choice. After a brief bow, he made eye contact with Anne Roberts. 
“A brief word, mum?” His brows knit.
Anne’s gaze met his. “Certainly, John. Excuse me, Edda May.”
Edda May made a face, but offered a quick nod.

John led his mistress into the pantry.
“What is it?”
“That spider is lying.”
“Mrs. Crumpton?”
“Yes, mum. I heard the whole conversation. Mrs. Crumpton offered Maggie a job. Even dangled more money in front of her. But Maggie didn’t bite.”
     “She turned it down?”
     “Yes, mum. She’s very happy here.”
     Anne smiled. “Glad to know.”
     “Yes mum. We plan to marry.”
     “Has she said ‘yes’?”
     “She has.” A shy smile curled his lips.
     “How wonderful!” Anne’s eyes lit up.
     “Are you going to give her the axe?” .
     “No, of course not. You do me a disservice, John.”
      “Begging your pardon?” His eyebrows quirked up.
      “You assume I’d believe Edda May.”           
      He nodded.
      “She’s a big, fat liar. I don’t know why she’s trying to get Maggie fired, but it won’t work. I didn’t believe a word she said. Do you know why she did this?”
      The unexpected question sent heat to his cheeks.
      “Something to do with a former attachment I had? To her maid, Gerty.”
      “Broke her heart, did you?” Anne Roberts stared at him.
      “Didn’t mean to. Just…when Maggie came along,” he stumbled over his words, and felt his blush deepen. “Well, you know how she is. Kinda special.”
      “You have good taste.”
      “So you won’t be firing Maggie?”
      “Of course not. That windbag has some nerve trying to cause trouble in my home,” Anne’s eyes fired up, she straightened her spine and pursed her lips.
      “Thank you. Maggie will be much relieved.”
      “Stick around, John. Edda May has a little surprise coming,” Anne said, heading toward the living room.




Monday, August 29, 2016


Picture prompt this week: 

Maggie's Story continues. Thanks for stopping by. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales.


“Put those tears away, Gertrude. I’ll take care of this,” said Mrs. Carlton Crumpton.
“But Mrs. C…”
“Never you mind. That rotter thinks he can toy with your affections and marry someone else? We’ll see about that. We’re going over to a cocktail party there tonight. We’ll fix that slut Maggie’s wagon.” The large woman in a blue and white print dress waddled to the front door.
“Thank you,” snuffled Gertrude, the Crumpton housekeeper.
The limousine pulled up to the Roberts’ building on Park Avenue. Edda May Crumpton got out, followed by her tall skinny husband, Carlton.
Anne Roberts greeted her old friends at the door. John served drinks and Maggie placed plates of tempting hot and cold hors d’oeuvres around the living room.
Mrs. Crumpton feigned a choking spell. “I’ll just go in the kitchen for a glass of water,” she said.


Once in Maggie’s realm, she gestured to her throat and croaked out, “Water!”
Maggie filled a glass and handed it to her. After taking  a healthy sip, Edda May turned to the young cook.
“I love your cooking, Maggie.”
“Thank you,” the young Brit responded. She picked at the bric-a-brac on the pocket of her apron.
“Say, why don’t you come cook for me? I don’t have any children. It would be a much nicer job. My kitchen is bigger and I’d pay you fifty per cent more.”
Maggie swallowed. She spied John, hiding in the pantry and motioned him to stay where he was.
“No, thanks, Mrs. Crumpton. That’s very kind of you, but I’m happy here. I love little Penn. He’s not bother at all.”
“Are you sure? I bet you could use that extra money.”
“Who couldn’t use more money. But I’m not leavin’. Thanks, anyway. More water?”
The large woman shook her head and wandered back into the living room.
“She’s up to something,” John whispered.


Edda May sidled up to Anne.
“I don’t want to tell tales out of school, Anne, dear.”
Anne Roberts turned her attention to her chubby friend. “Hmm?”
“In the kitchen, your maid asked me for a job.”
Anne’s eyes widened. “No! Really? Maggie?”

“I didn’t want to say anything, but I thought you should know,” Edda May said, her eyes glowing. “If I were you, I’d fire the bitch.”

Monday, August 22, 2016


Welcome! Thanks for stopping by. Yes, we are continuing Maggie's Story again this week. Don't forget to click on the link below to read the excellent Tuesday Tales stories. 


     John knocked on Maggie’s door before opening it. Her small valise was on the bed.
“Should I take this apron? Me mum gave it to me.  Kinda worn, though.” She flipped it over, perusing each side. “Stained a bit, too.”
     John put his hand over hers. “Stop, Maggie. You don’t have to leave. You’re not fired.”
     “No? Just humiliated, then. Good reason to go.” She continued to pack her few possessions.
     “They know we’re doin’ it.”
     “How would you feel if we were married?”
     “Married? You marry me? Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
     “I’ve never been a fan of that phrase,” he said. “What happened to you? You’re too young to be so bitter?”
     “None of your business. Now, please move. I’ve got a lot to do. Don’t suppose I can get a reference.” She shook her head, then laughed once. “I can see it now. ‘Cooks real good and shags the butler.’”
      “Stop it!” He grabbed her, forcing her into his embrace. She shuddered, then broke down.
     “I’m ruined. Ruined back home. Now ruined here, too,” she sobbed into his chest.
     John stroked her back. “Now, now. It’s not as black as you’re paintin’.”
     She quieted down but stayed in his arms.
     “Marry me, Maggie. I’m insane over you. Please. Never met a girl like you.”
     “You’re just sayin’ that. Did the Mister tell ya to?”
     “Okay, he did say it might be a good idea. Pave the way with the Missus a bit.”
     She pushed away from him.
     “See? It’s not real.”
     John dropped to one knee. “I’m savin’ up for a ring, darlin’. Marry me, Maggie. I love you with all my heart.”
     “Get up, John. You’ll be ruinin’ your pants.”
     He rose and took her hand. When she wouldn’t look at him, he tipped her chin up.
     “Say you don’t love me, sweetheart, and I’ll help you find a new place.”
     She cast her gaze to the floor. “What difference does it make what I feel?”
     “Say it!”
     She shifted her weight, her eyes still focused on her feet.
     “Say it!” He gave her a little shake.
     “You can’t say it because it isn’t true.”
     “So I love you. So what?”
     “Marry me and make me the happiest man in New York City.”
     She laughed.  “You’re such a charmer, John Eldridge.”
     “You will, then?”
     “If you really want me to.”
     “I do, my girl, I do.”
     Her eyes watered as she lifted them to meet his.  
     “You won’t regret it,” he whispered.
     “I’d better not!”

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