Welcome to the Fifteen Minute Novel. Each morning I spend fifteen minutes writing on a singular story line. Each morning starts with the last line of the previous day. The goal is to get a (very) rough draft out of the simple story idea and to avoid letting the story idea languish in limbo forever, actually writing it out. This is the third year I have done this writing experiment and each year I learn just a little bit about myself and the way I write as well as creating a framework for the story. But without further ado…
Day 94: She didn’t point this out to her grandmother.
She didn’t point this out to her grandmother. Gwen was pleased that Margaret seemed to be enjoying the shopping venture, even if it wasn’t her normal shopping venue. When they reached the counter, Gwen tried to take out her wallet but her grandmother shooed her away. “It is school shopping,” she said.
“But,” she started thinking of the money her father gave her for things her grandparents might not have thought of. She wasn’t entirely certain this counted but before she could get out one more word of protest her grandmother had her card inserted into the machine, the bill paid.
“School shopping falls into the category of necessities,” Margaret told her. “Gwen took the bulk of the bags as they made their way back outside. Sebastian opened the trunk and the bags were placed inside.
“”I don’t know about you byt my pastry from this morning is wearing thin. Are you ready for lunch?”
“I am,” Gwen said.
“Excellent,” Margaret said. They got into the car and Sebastian once again darted into traffic, taking them easily to their destination. The restaurant featured far more outdoor tables than the place they went for lunch and at many of the tables there were groups of ladies stationed at them.
Sebastian let them out at the door and they started to walk up to the front door. While the front tables had a railing between the walkway and the tables there was no other separation.
“Margaret?” someone said as they passed one of the tables. Gwen saw her grandmother blink and turn to look.
“I thought that was you,” a blond woman with bright blue eyes and a wide smile said. She was dressed crisply in blue and white and looked vaguely like she belonged in a nautical setting. She was younger than her grandmother, about Sharron’s age.
“We’re you,” Margaret answered. “Was it delightful or should I be worried?”
A tinkling laugh met the question. “When my stepson mentioned a friend of his from Westport was here for the summer I couldn’t believe she was your granddaughter.”
The blonde’s eyes shifted to her and Gwen smiled politely back. She tried to remember anything that Michael said about his step mother. Not much came to mind. ‘At least not anything I could share,’ she thought.
“So you are Michael’s step mother,” Margaret said with a smile. “Gwen gave me the address and I thought it was you but I haven’t had time to look it up.”
“I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer,” the woman said with a laugh.
“More than usual at least,” Margaret said. “But I should let you get back to your friends.”
“Of course, enjoy your lunch,” she said. Margaret nodded and smiled and turned away. Gwen followed her to the door and they went inside the restaurant. At the hostess stand, Margaret requested a table inside.
Ten til Midnight 