I wrote today!

Not a lot, just shy of 2K words, but it was something. I'm now at 17,072.

And the break was good for my head. I figured out where I want this thing to go...

Jeanie, who obviously has a drinking problem, is ***SPOILER ALERT*** going to have a big blow-up at Tiny's bar, steal Aileen's keys, and get into an accident.

Don't worry, she doesn't die (and neither does anyone else). But it will be a huge wake-up call for her - and Aileen - as they will both learn something very important about themselves and relationships in general. Jeanie will have to face the consequences of her actions - as will Aileen (that I won't spoil for you - yet).

I thought that this would be the end of the novel, but after I'm done I'll probably still be 10-15K short. So I may have to add in another conflict. We'll see.

I have finally started to connect with my characters in a way that makes me really want to finish this project, instead of finishing out of a sense of obligation. It was Jeanie's accident that did it. I felt like I couldn't just leave her there, that she really needed help. When I finally started to see my characters as people, and not just figments of my imagination, then I became much more invested in their well-being. Funny how that works, isn't it?

Here is what I wrote today (I have not re-read since I wrote it, this is raw). It takes place in the last half of the book, so far beyond what I've posted so far.

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            We decided that it was best if we left separately. Although anyone paying attention could have put two and two together. Luckily for us, the bar was still reeling from Jeanie’s grand exit and no one was paying much attention to us. No one except Tiny.

            I walked out first and made my way to the bar where Tiny caught my eye.

            “Drink?” he asked, with one eyebrow raised.

            I just nodded. I didn’t trust myself to talk without blurting out what had just happened and I didn’t want to pile one more drama to what was already a dramatic evening.

            Tiny performed his magic behind the bar. He put four or five different liquids into a tumbler with ice, shook it, and poured it into a tall glass. It was pink and it was delicious.

            “So,” he said, after I nodded my approval. “How was it?”

            “Delicious,” I said, “I don’t know what you put in in, but I love it.”

            He smiled at me, “that’s not what I meant.”

            I blushed and turned away. Damn him, I thought, how the hell does he always KNOW everything?

            “You don’t have to say anything,” he grinned, “I just got the conformation I was looking for. Enjoy the drink, I’ll be back later.” And he moved on to the other side of the bar where Alex, Jennifer, and some of the other burlesque dancers were standing.

            I sighed and took another sip. What was I going to do about Jeanie? About Christian? I suddenly felt exhausted.

            Christian appeared behind the bar, reached for my hand, and squeezed it. I squeezed back.

            “You ok?” he looked concerned. I guess I looked as tired as I felt.

            “Yeah, I’m just tired I think,” I replied with a half smile. “And a little upset and confused I guess. It’s all hard to sort out.”

            “I hope you’re not upset about what happened in the storage room,” he said quickly, concerned.

            “No, no,” I reassured him. “I’m not upset about that or upset with you. It’s just… well, it’s just Jeanie.”

            “I know,” he shook his head. “I’m worried too. But there’s nothing we can do right now. Maybe she’ll have  calmed down by tomorrow and we can talk to her.”

            “Yeah, you’re right. I should just try and enjoy the rest of the night. Someone did call a cab for her, right?”
            “I think so, I’ll go check with Tiny.” He squeezed my hand one more time and then made his way over to where Tiny was making a round of the same pink drink for the burlesque dancers.

            I turned back toward my drink and took a few more sips. I should check my phone, I thought to myself, maybe she’s sent me a text message. I doubted it, but she might have cooled down or sobered up enough to at least let me know she made it home ok. Even though she had just made a complete ass of herself, and embarrassed me in front of dozens of people, I was still worried about her. She was just… well, Jeanie. Immature, yes. Exasperating, definitely. But she had been my best friend for over five years and I loved her, I just couldn’t let go of that in one night.

            I got up and grabbed my purse from behind the DJ’s booth. I sat back down and pulled my phone out of my purse. No texts. No missed calls. Nothing. I sighed, disappointed, but not surprised.

            Christian and Tiny reappeared in front of me, both men looked worried.

            “A cab was called,” Tiny spoke first. “But the cab driver just came in and said that he’s been waiting outside for over 15 minutes and no one’s showed up.”

            I looked at Christian; my stomach was starting to knot up.

            “I’m going to drive around the block,” he said, sensing my concern, “I bet I’ll find her walking toward Fair Oaks. Can I me borrow your keys, my car’s in the shop.”

            “Sure,” I said, rifling through my purse. No keys. “I can’t find my keys.” The knot in my stomach grew larger. I had my keys and Jeanie when I walked in, Jeanie is now gone and so are my keys. Coincidence? I think not.

            “I think she took my car,” it was barely more than a whisper and I felt sick just saying it. She had been so, so drunk. Oh please please please let it not be true. Please let her be ok. Please let her have been pulled over and hauled off to the drunk tank and not smashed against a tree. Please please please. I though to myself as I handed my purse to Christian and squeezed my eyes shut.

            He checked my purse. No keys.

            I got up wordlessly and walked toward the exit. Christian and Tiny joined me. Tiny shouted to the third bartender: “Meagan, the bar is yours, we’ll be right back.”

            Alex gave us a look as we walked past and Tiny tersely shook his head as if to say bad news. She joined us.

            The air outside was crisp and cold. I shivered and Christian put his arms around me. My car was gone. I had parked on the side of the bar, not quite close enough for the bouncers to see it from their posts at the front door. Two parking spots closer and they would have clearly seen Jeanie get in the car. I’m sure they would have stopped her. I wished they had stopped her anyway.

            “It’s gone.” My voice was surprisingly strong. I felt like collapsing, but at least I sounded like I was in control. “She must have taken it.”

            “Hopefully she got pulled over on Fair Oaks,” Tiny replied, turning towards me, “she has to pass that way to get home and they’re almost always out this time of night. She’s probably in the back of a police car or sobering up in the drunk tank right now.” His confidence was infectious.

            “We can call CHP,” Alex suggested. “And I’m sure she’ll call Tiny or myself to come bail her out.” Alex’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of Christian’s arms around me. Thankfully she didn’t say anything; I don’t think I was quite ready for that conversation.

            My phone rang. Oh thank goodness, I thought to myself. It’s Jeanie; she’s calling to tell me she’s ok or needs to be bailed out.

            “It’s Jeanie,” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. A smiling picture of her greeted me and I swiped to answer.

            “Hello? Jeanie? Are you ok?” I asked in quick succession.

            “Ma’am, this is Officer Flemming,” a male voice replied. My heart sank. A police officer wouldn’t be calling to tell me Jeanie needed to be bailed out of jail. An officer wouldn’t call to tell me she was home safe. Office Flemming continued, “this number was listed as the ‘In Case of Emergency’ number in the victim’s phone. May I get your name please?”

            Victim? Oh sweet Sons of Anarchy, I thought to myself, this is not happening.

            “My name is Aileen. Aileen Greer,” I told the officer, “I’m Jeanie’s best friend.”

            Christian, Alex, and Tiny’s faces were a wall of concern. What’s going on? Christian mouthed. I don’t know I mouthed back and turned away from the three of them. I needed to focus on the phone and I didn’t think I could handle looking at the three of them at the same time.

            “Well Ms. Greer, Miss Robinson has been in an accident. It appears as though she was driving under the influence when she hit a parked car…”

            “Is she ok?” I interrupted.

            “She’s being transported to Memorial Hospital on Independence. I do not know the extent of her injuries. Do you have a number for a family member?”

            “Yeah, I have her mother’s number. But she’s all the way out in Montana. I’m the only one she has that’s close. I think she was driving my car too, it’s a light blue Honda Civic.”

            “That does fit the description of the vehicle at the scene. Did you give Ms. Robinson permission to use your vehicle? Did you know she was intoxicated?”

            “No and yes. I knew she was drunk, but I didn’t let her use my car. We called her a cab but she must have decided not to wait.”

            “Who is “we” ma’am?”

            “Our friends, we were all at Speakeasy on Fair Oaks for a friend’s show. She got upset, we had an argument, and she left. I went into another part of the bar and… to get away… and when I came back into the room she had left. When I realized my keys were gone she’d been gone for over a half an hour.”

            “Would you like to press charges for the theft of your vehicle?” he asked.

            Press charges? Oh good gracious.

            “Um, no? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m just a little in shock.”

            Ok, well I may have some more questions for you later. I have your number now.”

            “Yeah, any questions you have… was there anyone else in the car or in the parked car? She didn’t hurt anyone, did she?”

            “Fortunately no one else was involved, although it does look as though both cars are totaled. If she had drifted into the other lane it would have been a different story.”

            I sighed in relief. At least no one else was involved. I hoped my insurance would cover to replace the car, but no amount of insurance money would replace a life. I hoped she was going to be ok, because I was going to kill her for driving drunk.

            “I’ll be in touch,” Officer Flemming said.

            “Thank you Officer,” I replied as I hung up and turned toward my three friends.