It is that time of year again…the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. That also means it is time for Literotica’s annual Holiday story contest. And the story I am working on for this year has me excited like none have since Red, White and Blue Halloween, which was the very beginning of the Sergeant Mike’s Miracle Tour novella series. In fact, ultimately I think this will be expanded and become Book 5 in the series for release next Veteran’s Day.
So have a quick read and give me your thoughts…especially on a title. I really need a title…
Keisha Jackson rearranged the few brightly wrapped presents in the trunk of her older SUV to make way for her daughter’s wheel chair. “How was choir practice tonight, my sweet angel?” she asked as she worked to get it in around the presents that she had gotten from the charity.
Ironically, the one associated the U S Marine Corps. Breanna’s father had been a Marine, but since they never married, since he never knew that the sweet girl next door that had given him her virginity before he shipped out on what became his final tour was carrying his baby, their daughter was not entitled to any benefits.
She half listened as Breanna rattled off about who had done what and how wonderful it had been. She tried very hard to focus, but was more soothed just by the sound of her child’s voice after a long hard day than she was the specifics of what she said.
Keisha worked part-time as a secretary, not even an administrative assistant, just a plain old secretary, in a doctor’s office. The good part was that her hours allowed her to be there full-time for her child, which was important since Bree had been diagnosed with cerebral palsy when she was eighteen months.
Of course, they received some help from her daughter’s disability every month. But from the moment she found out she was having a baby, well into her pregnancy, Keisha had been determined not to become a stereotype of the black teenage mother.
Even when her father, the pastor of the local Pentecostal church kicked her out, she had refused to go on welfare. Though she had been forced to accept charity from friends and other relatives back then. But she had worked to repay them all over the past ten years.
Not that Keisha minded any of that. A mother did what she had to do. She inhaled and plastered on the smile she saved for those really rough days as she slammed the door close and walked around to the driver’s side.
Looking over at the young beauty, whose smile reminded her of the only man she had ever loved, she asked the question that had plagued her all day, the one she could no longer put off, “So what do you want for Christmas this year, baby?”
Though she knew that whatever she could afford would not be as nice as the toys that had been donated, the off-brand tablet or even the new coat that was such a blessing this time of year, Keisha made it a priority to buy her daughter something just from her each year. No matter what her bank balance said.
Her angel smiled and shook her head, “You don’t have to Mommy. Just being together is the most important thing of all.”
She fought back tears at the child’s wisdom. At moments like this she sometimes wondered if her daughter’s condition was not a mixed blessing. When other little girls her age were demanding grown up clothes, make-up and worried about their hair, her daughter had been through so much pain, so many tests and hospitalizations that she just seemed…like an old soul, she supposed.
But that only made her more determined to give her whatever she could, however she could. “No, angel, Mommy wants to give you something special this year.” She forced the words out, “Whatever you want,” and steeled herself for the answer.
“Do you mean that, Mommy?” and Keisha’s heart beat faster. She supposed she could beg work for an advance though that would only make things tighter in the New Year.
But, yes, she meant it. “Of course, baby,” she nodded as she brushed her fingers across her daughter’s cheek.
“I want a Marine then, Mommy. One like Daddy was,” she said with all the innocence of a child as her mother’s heart stuttered to a complete stand still.
Now…name that story?
Tara Cox - Literary Erotica 