Tuesday, April 24, 2012

First Fight

P. J. unlocked the door to the apartment and was greeted by the sound of laughter.  She was suprised to see that Jamie had six friends from school sitting on the floor of the living room, that still only had a couch in it. They had a pizza box open on the floor between there, books open and notebooks strewn around. 

Jamie looked up at P.J. and smiled, "Hey, just in time. You want a piece of pizza?"

"No," P.J. said in a sharper tone than she had intended, illiciting a frown from Jamie. "I'm going to hop in the shower." She went into the bedroom and threw her backpack on the bed. 

Jamie came into the room just as P.J. was stripping off her shirt. "What's the problem?" Jamie asked.

"I just wasn't expecting to come home to a house full of people," P.J. said and threw her shirt on the bed.

Jamie closed the door and leaned against it.  "This is my study group from English class. I didn't think it would be a problem."

P. J. unfastened her jeans and started taking them off, "I just wished you would have text me or called me to let me know.  It just caught me off guard."

"So am I going to have to let you know every time I have someone here?" Jamie asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Glaring at Jamie, P. J. bit back the angry retort that was on the tip of her tongue. She didn't want what appeared to be their first problem to become a huge fight in front of Jamie's friends. "It would be nice if you would, especially if they are still going to be here when I get home."

"Hey, Jamie, come on let's finish this up." One of the girls called from the other room.

"Fine." Jamie snapped and left the room, closing the door with a slam.

I know I've been adding bits and pieces from this new story a bit randomly but I'm working on the official story separately and I will be posting it at the Royal Academy of Bards website as I get each section finished. Their website is http://www.academyofbards.org/.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Jamie and P. J.: Moving in together

Jamie had, initially, been extremely pissed off that P. J. had dropped down to going to school half-time so she could go to work full-time at Kinko's. P. J. finally made her understand that she was getting to do a lot of graphic art work when she was helping clients set up their business cards and creating posters. In effect, she was getting more of a hands on eductation than she had been getting at school. Plus, P. J. didn't want to pass up the opportunity for a full-time job and had jumped on the opportunity when her manager had asked her to start working full-time.  The extra income allowed P. J. to have enough money to get an apartment for her and Jamie.

P. J. had been worried that Jamie's parents would balk at the idea of the two girls moving in together but Jamie's dad had been excited about how much money it was going to save him so he wouldn't have to pay for dorm housing.  Jamie's mother, who still really hasn't come to accept their relationship, hadn't been as excited about it but she went along with it because Jamie's dad said it was okay.

Jamie had flipped when P.J. told her that she had already signed a lease for the apartment and they spent the night in the apartment, making love and sleeping on a sleeping bag on the bedroom floor. The next day Jamie actually cut classes to help P.J. move all of their clothes into the apartment and what little furniture they owned.  P.J.'s mom and stepdad, Dave found them a used queen size bed that was in excellent shape. Jamie's parents insisted on buying them a sheet and comforter set. 

Well, that's all I have time for today.  Hopefully, I'll get work on putting this story together, piece by piece until I get enough to post a section at the Royal Academy of Bards.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Revelations about my father and why M.E. Tudor is my pen name.

Someone asked me recently why I chose M.E. Tudor as my pen name.  I told them that one reason was because I thought my real name, Tina Brewster was a boring name. The other reason is because it is in honor of my paternal grandmother, Mina Ellie Tudor (Tudor being her maiden name), who my mother said was a story teller.  I didn't meet either of my paternal grandparents. My grandmother died at the age of 48 from ovarian cancer about 4 or 5 years before I was born. My grandfather died of a heart attack two years before I was born.

Interestingly, my mother had more fond memories of her mother-in-law that she did of her own mother. She told me many stories but when I started taking an interest in drawing and writing as a teenager, my mother said that my dad's mom had been the family story teller and my Aunt Pat, my dad's only sister, had been an artist.

My dad didn't talk much about his family. I learned through other family members that my grandfather had been an alcoholic who had beaten his wife and children often.  There were other stories about him but I'll save them for another time.  But, apparently, my father's childhood had not been a happy one. 

When I was about nine I started going to a Baptist Church in a town not far from us and decided I wanted to be baptized. Dad had staunchly refused to allow me to do it but my brother finally talked him into it.  I couldn't get Dad to tell me why until one day, not long after I'd been baptized, we were sitting in the front yard under the shade tree talking. Dad was drunk and he would often been more open than normal when he was drunk. We were discussing, once again, why he didn't want me to get baptized and why he didn't want to talk about God, he teared up and said, "My mother was a devout Christian. You could not have asked for a better woman and no one loved God more than she did. When she died of cancer, I never could understand how God could make someone who loved him so much suffer the way she did."

We didn't talk about it again after that and at nine I was too young to really understand his pain.  As an adult, I understood more why he didn't ever talk about religion. It was too painful for him to think about how God had made his mother suffer. She had already suffered a violent marriage, why did she have to die a painful death.  It just occurred to me this morning, as I was thinking about why I chose her name as my pen name, that Dad didn't want me to become a Christian because he was afraid that God would make me suffer the way his mom had. I was the baby of the family and his favorite. He didn't want me suffer a painful life or death. Wow, what a revelation.

Dad died when I was seventeen, a week and a half after I graduated from high school. It's amazing that after 28 years I still miss him and the pain is sometimes just as strong today as it was then. Anyway, that's the story of why I chose M.E. Tudor for my pen name.

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