c is for cable, cards, couches, chicken tortillas, country music and the conclusion of chapter three

have i mentioned lately that i'm awesome? because i am.

today began well enough. i got lots of rest. finally. i don't think i've snagged that much rest in a while. not that it was solid rest. i went to bed around ten or so. i woke up at three a.m. and again at six (i think?) and, finally, at eight. i watched last night's episodes of ncis and ncis: los angeles.

i dragged my gimpy self (my feet haven't liked walking so much lately ... i can't figure out why this is, except that i'm the heaviest i've been in like ever and my diet sucks, which is probably plenty of reason, really) down the hall to my parents' office to play a couple of games of hearts (because my lovely lil macintosh doesn't have hearts readily available) on my mother's computer. i lost. badly. probably because i tried too many times to shoot the moon and was almost always one card short of success. bastards. and then i went downstairs to eat breakfast and watch a cheesy hallmark movie based on a debbie macomber book, mrs. miracle.

i did not want to get up off the couch. i wanted to lay there (lie there? i can't ever remember the correct one.) all day and do absolutely nothing with myself, because i was in that deplorable frame of mind that doing something was rather pointless. but after badgering my self-conscious enough, i shrugged off the despair, dressed and went to saltgrass for lunch (because their chicken tortilla soup is yummy), then to pappadeaux's to work (because i can't work with all that blasted country racket).

and i'm editing and facebooking and editing and facebooking and editing and reading the last of chapter three:

He was talking with Piper when Lucy’s voice came through on the walkie. “Reese, what’s your twenty?”

“Kitchen. What’ve you got?”

“Zoe and Caleb have temporarily vacated the premises.”

His brow furrowed. “Temporarily? I’ll be right there.” He hurried out, past Zoe’s table, which was still cluttered with their belongings, to the hostess stand where Lucy stood. She was gnawing on her thumbnail.

“We got busy. I couldn’t keep track of her then. I don’t know where she went. She wouldn’t have left her things if she and Caleb had bailed.” The last was more a question than a statement.

“No, she wouldn’t. I’ll go check outside. You and Gemma are in charge.”

He managed to flash a grin at the people he encountered on the way to the patio and the docks. He had an idea of where they were and what they were doing. He was pretty sure it was a little too friendly.

We’re not dating. We’re friends.

Sure. And I’m Mark Seliger, he thought as he shoved through the wide, heavy oak doors that lead to the patio.

Zoe wouldn’t have a clue who that was, even though he had a number of his prints in his room.

But then, Zoe didn't have a clue about much of anything. He glanced at benches and chairs set along the wraparound porch but didn’t see her, but then he hadn’t expected to. He headed down the wooden walk toward the docks.

And there, on edge of the third dock, they sat Indian style, looking out at the water and the lights from across the way.

But to his surprise, they weren’t being overly friendly.

He cleared his throat. “Zo.”

She started, scooted a tad bit away from Caleb and shot a glare over her shoulder at Reese. “What?”

“Just wondering where yall had gone off to.”

“We’re taking a study break. It’s nice out.”

“It’s pitch black and chilly.”

“Well, yeah, but look at the lights on the water.”

He did. And she was right. It was nice. “Zo. Yall need to get back inside.”

She mumbled something about big brothers being a pain in the ass, but when Caleb rose and offered his hand, she took it and stood, then followed him down the dock, glaring at Reese as she passed, and up the steps to the restaurant.

Reese cocked a brow, grinned and shook his head, then followed them inside. Grinned again when she threw herself down on to the booth’s seat and aimed another vicious glare his way. Then he headed back to the kitchen to finish up the business he’d had with Piper.

The rest of the night was pleasantly uneventful. Caleb left right at closing time. Reese took down the tills and did the closing paperwork. Gemma and Lucy headed up the cleaning. Zoe, of course, offered no assistance whatsoever, but was sprawled in the booth—half laying, half sitting—reading A Separate Peace and chomping on bubble gum.

(c) twenty-eleven. jennifer k. griffin, otherwise known as c.c. this publication is the exclusive property of c.c. and is protected under the united states copyright act of nineteen seventy-six and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. the contents of this post, and any other c.c.-crafted picky post for that matter, may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without c.c.'s consent. all rights reserved. in other words, steal this, and i will follow you to the depths of hell and the edge of forever and kick your puny, thieving ass. thanks. :]

if you wanna know how the third chapter begins, click here.

if you wanna read more of the gang, click here.

this was a matlock project. to learn more, click here.