English Violets, TD Mitchum, Chapter 1

Beginning Again.......Starting Over, Young Love

 

English Violets: Chapter One

Written by Teresa Dale Mitchum

Copyright© 2015 All Rights Reserved

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THE DIVORCE

Julie Marie’s heart break paralleled the quietness, the peculiar silence in Pineville as she walked down the grey descending court steps. Nature was hidden away in silence, like her emotions. There was nothing left to say, feelings echoed by the world around her as if they knew she could bear no more. A cloudy haze enveloped the sky, akin to her muddled self-worth.  

The judge hammered his gavel onto his brown mahogany desk leaving her numb. Her frozen senses, like a glacier never to melt away. She was exhausted and uncertain of her future. Single again at twenty-nine after five miserable years of marriage, but it seemed like an eternity.  She did thank God for the finality of the marriage and faith in his promise, “I will never leave you or forsake you,” (Hebrews 13.5).

The temperature was below freezing on that November day, and she pulled her tan trench-coat tighter, slowly inching each stiletto heel into the icy steps, “Another slippery slope,” she thought exhaling watching her breathe float away; a ghostly mist in the fog. At least now she was more prepared for the unexpected.  It would be her luck to trip and fall, not back in love, but careen down those dicey cascading steps into the street.  Her now legal x-husband Charles Matthews would run her over in his shiny new black BMW.  “No, he’ll never run over me again,” she whispered.  

Maybe the ice would be attracted to the bubble of ice cold numbness encasing and protecting her fragile heart.  “A broken heart like mine will never mend,” she thought.  It was a beaten up waterlogged puzzle. The delicate top layer veined reddish pink, torn and bruised, like it was stampeded upon by wild stallions.  The etched scars, souvenirs left by Charles Matthews’ many humiliations and degrading words had taken its toll. Damaged too by the invasion of tears, such a multitude her soft skin reabsorbed them passing by the pulsing sounds of desolation.

She thought about the wild mustangs roaming the shores of the North Carolina outer banks. Although she had only seen them once, the excitement of that moment roared within her soul and was safely tucked away. Their free spirit lifted her higher like their hair bouncing with each strong gallop. The sand had flown high into the air carried by the winds splattering the squawking gulls. Now, it seemed like a mirage, but it was no vision, it was real as her heartbreak and her desire for that same unabated freedom. Her mind wandered wishing she could find that treasure, a tiny space of peace in her vortex of worries. She prayed for the courage to climb out and find that calm; to roam and explore the world like those mustangs.

Her English Grandmother, Corinth Masters, told her she would find it again.  Her Meme was very wise and taught her many things, like the tedious art of growing and caring for English violets, something Charles never appreciated.  “The aroma of a violet is like no other flower.  Its aroma is powerful, so decadent, it’s used in many perfumes,” said Meme.  But Jules truly savored the challenge it took to grow them from seeds. It matched her meticulous nature.

When she met Charles at Brown he put her on a pedestal. “A fork-tongued charmer, like a shaman,” she thought. He lifted her self esteem so high she felt like a queen. The marriage was tempestuous from the beginning. He consistently criticized everything she did: cooking, cleaning, walking, talking; a never ending list of slices to her self esteem.  She was so off-balance, her mind swirled like a spinning top.

Jules took marriage vows seriously, and worked very hard to keep all her promises. She tried to put Charles first, but that was a huge mistake. She finally realized no-one would every please Charles Morris Matthews III. He was a cheating selfish egotistical liar.  A model narcissist in every attribute according to the psychologist they began seeing before the divorce. To blame her for his cheating and say she needed more spice in the bedroom was so ludicrous.  He admitted no wrong doings, only excuses his pathological mind consistently aimed at her. 

He was so possessive and jealous of her, all the while cheating with every desperate woman he could find.  He targeted the weak and passive, but they had to be attractive. His starving ego had to be fed.  “God help them,” she shouted inside, knowing his manipulative ways far too well. But that was none of her concern.  She had to go forward and make a new life, and although the death of hope for their marriage had failed, she knew without a doubt she had tried everything possible.  “Forgive, not forget and move forward,” she thought.    Their last conversation came to her mind and she smiled, thinking of her words and her beautiful purple English violets, soon to bloom.  

“Maybe I’m not so nice, maybe my personality is infected deep down to do what I did, but he deserved it,” she rationalized.  It did help her to concrete the burial of disappointments and betrayal somewhere below the crevices of her once beautiful spirit.

She thought about when her brother Joey met Charles at Brown.  His words were spot on, “Jules, he’s an a*****e and a half.”  Her brother didn’t like the pretty boy preppy types that lived off their parents, and that was Charles to a tee. She earned her scholarship through hard work, and in retrospect things do seem much clearer.  She and Joey were raised in New Jersey, and although she lost her accent courtesy of Meme, Joey loved New Jersey. It’s bred in his bones, like his true-blue childhood friends.  He was the typical protective older brother, and no one had ever hurt her until Charles. He had always watched out for Jules and loved her more than anything on earth.  She hid a lot of their relationship from Joey, but when it came time for the divorce, he was by her side.  He and his friends helped her move into a small apartment.  Charles drove up unexpectedly and he and Joey exchanged words. According to Charles, it was ridiculous; all she heard was the word “guts”…. 

She knew Joey and he would never let it go.  It was a New Jersey thing, a guy thing.  “Joey think we need to fix that guy up,” said Tommy.  “Don’t worry Tommy, he’s got plenty coming, we’ll fix him up.”

 

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Final Conversation

 

Julie arrived for the last time at the home they had shared to pick up a few remaining boxes.  The ‘For Sale’ sign gleaming like a banner screaming failure, but she continued up the pristine sidewalk entering the home, emotionless without regrets. She laughed to herself as she saw the once immaculately kept living room in disarray and entered the long corridor to their bedroom. Instinctively, she found herself gathering the nearly overflowing trash bag from the canister. She breezed into the kitchen and made a final pot of coffee, grabbed a tissue removing debris from the canister. She poured herself a cup of coffee and retrieved another one for Charles and continued outside stacking the boxes in her car when Charles drove up and rushed to her side.    Immediately he began his sorrowful pleas for her to stay, for them to begin again, confessing his ever enduring love.   

“Jules, I really wanted our marriage to work, I never would have swayed if you would have tried in the bedroom.” 

“His shallow self serving ego seemed boundless,” she thought.   “Charles it will not work, give it up, we’re through.  You used my Christianity against me, but you will never understand the principals.   Meek doesn’t mean weak, just the opposite. You will continue to seek out wealth, but it will never be enough.  I never wanted wealth but you covet it.  It wasn’t easy, but with a lot of prayers, and great legal advice, I will take every dime the judge orders me due. You cannot make me feel guilty Charles.  It’s over,” she responded calmly.

He seemed to search for a response while lapping up the coffee, like the dog he was. After years of betrayal and abuse, she used her only weapon and said, “Charles, do you really want to know how to satisfy a woman?

“That’s one area I don’t need your help,” he replied laughing sarcastically. “I certainly remember your wailing moans,” he snickered.  

That was it, Julie Marie was through with his warped attitude of superiority, and said, “It’s called faking it Charles, and for the rest of your life, and in fact right now every woman you believe you’re satisfying is doing the same thing.  I tried so many times to talk with you about it; give and take, but you always got defensive and pissed off.   You’re repulsive!”   

Charles, now looking insulted and shocked responded, “I’m not seeing anyone, Jules, and what do you know anyway, you were a virgin when I married you.”  

 “Of courses, Charles Matthews, The All Knowing Powerful Sex God,” replied Jules. How asinine! I deserve a real man. Not a self-centered narcissistic self-serving a*s. Don’t try to blame your habitual infidelity on me. It’s only degrading to you.”

“That’s bullshit, Jules; you can’t fake it that well,” laughing even louder.   “You want to bet?  I learned people aren’t always as they seem.  You taught me that, Charles. Thank you, I appreciate it,” responded Jules, now shaking with anger.

 Julie Marie had always tried to be a lady, to maintain her composure, and to be the best wife, but his excuses and blame game had taken her over the edge.  “Charles, I’m certain you enjoyed the coffee, it contains a flavoring made especially for you, by you,” she smiled and with that, she pulled the tissue from her purse, threw the now empty condom at his face and closed the door.   His dark eyes bulged like a dead fish rotting for days.  

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Moxy

Jules had no idea Tommy and Joey were outside on that day.  She had promised to call Joey if she had any problems.  They pulled the truck up slowly, each retrieving a canister, until all six were empty.  Joey and Tommy had to wear masks and to keep from retching, but still could smell it and the damn maggots and flies were everywhere…since moving day, Joey and Tommy had visited the butcher every week for six weeks to pick up a 32 gallon container of rotting foul intestinal pig guts and whatever else the butcher threw in.  They quickly opened each container filling his car to the brim.  “There’s your guts Charles, told ya I’d get you some, my pleasure,” said Joey smiling and bowing.    Later that day Charles called hysterical but Jules hung up.  She never asked her brother either.  Whatever he got, he deserved and more.

 

 

 

April 2© 2015 

Author's Note

This chapter has already been given great reviews and I am shocked! Please provide any insights into content; Ignore Grammar. Thank you in advance for reading and any suggestion.....Dale

Reviews

[Pushkar Prabhat]

Dale: WoW!!!!
i hate myself for waiting this long to read this..........this is truly remarkable.......
the depth and insight.........amazing.......
the characters are thoroughly enjoyable and interesting.......even Charles.......though he and the brother Joey is a stereotype..........not a complaint.
your narration is incredible.......
to say the least.....i am hooked.
awesome chapter......
i loved it!!!
:)

[Shivai]

The start reminds me of a Jeffery Archer or Sidney Sheldon novel, I have no clue why. Its really nice, and i love the name "English Violets"!
Really well written, and honestly I see no grammar problem. Plus your description is amazing, "watching her breathe float away; a ghostly mist in the fog" I could literally see the...I don't know what you call it...snow smoke..?... I mean I would have literally just written snow smoke.
The characterisation is also wonderful.
I don't have any suggestions but for an honest opinion all I have to say is that, as I read I felt that the description was a little too over powering, nevertheless I love reading descriptions so I did enjoy and you have written them really well too!
Loved it!!

[Confuser]

Got a lot to do on this....thank you so much!!!

[Shivai]

Your welcome!

[Confuser]

Thanks again & have a great day!!! You're so kind....:D Yay...think I did it correctly....Bye

[Emily]

Dale: Is this your first novel? It's really solid! I think you have a lot of potential in this story. I do have some suggestions, though. I think in the first part, The Divorce, you're too heavy-handed with the imagery and similes. There's not a lot of movement in the story. As far as I could tell, Julie was standing on the court steps the entire time, musing about her relationship. Also, I know that your POV is third person, but I think that you should let the reader know more later on, instead of a big chunk in the beginning. But I like the characters so far. Great write!

[Confuser]

Thank you Emily: Of course it's my first novel; Thanks for the advise; I'll put a transition into her car at least...LOL...Thanks again....you're sweet as cherry pie, and so smart. Thanks again!!!

[Emily]

No problem!

[Jennie Baron]

I certainly like and admire your writing style and your eye for detail, and I love the characterizations and the imagery of the horses and the violets and how they tie into Julie's emotions. This first chapter definitely makes me want to go on and see how she gets through the divorce and moves on!

I do tend to agree about that that first speech of hers in the conversation sounds perhaps rehearsed. The dialogue, however, tells so much about Charles! I was really taken aback that he showed up professing love and pleading to be taken back (perhaps you could reveal something about that part in dialogue?) and so quickly turns on Julie with insults, etc. Great touch!

A couple of little suggestions:

"although the death of hope for their marriage had failed": I'd suggest "although the hope for their marriage had died" or "although their marriage had failed."

"things do seem much clearer": I would change do to did for consistent verb tense.

Principals should be principles

Whaling s/b wailing

That said, those are tiny things and the concept of the chapter is amazingly good. As Marcel said, keep up the good work.

In dialogue, be sure to start a new paragraph each time a different person speaks.

intestinal pig guts

[Confuser]

Wow, I'm blown away, I'm still laughing at Whaling, thinking of a whale story I read, I am so ADHD, well A to The DHDDDDD, thanks for the insights - I suck eggs with grammar, and my God, didn't even think about changing paragraphs,....Thanks again, Woohoo!!!! I'll make the changes!!! Thanks again, owe you a lot - so kind of you.....Dale

[Jennie Baron]

Except I somehow didn't say anything about the intestinal pig guts. It seemed redundant so I thought maybe I might say pig intestines or pig guts. A pleasant subject to think about!

[Confuser]

LOL, Jennie: Are you referring to the meek...week or the entire section? I have some ideas. She also did more, but that will only be revealed when she on the road to her new destination. I may could give a clue....Thanks...will send you a message....you're wonderful!!!

[Jennie Baron]

I think it's mainly the meek versus weak speech, come to think of it, specifically the part about his obsession with accumulating wealth. Maybe "You will continue to seek out wealth, but it will never be enough. I never wanted wealth but you covet it" is repeating the same thing in two different sentences? "Covet" also does not typically come up in informal conversation. Certainly keep it if it is a word that Julie would typically use given her background and upbringing, though.

[Confuser]

You're right, it does sound rehearsed. You are so right on...LOL....Thanks Jennie!!!

[R Smith]

Absolutely brilliant Dale, it held me from beginning to end and the retribution carried out on Charles was both stunning and hilarious, he certainly got what's coming, I did not notice if there were any errors I was far to engrossed in the story, i'm not usually a good reviewer of stories since i guess its cos i can't write them but i know a good read when i see one and you wrote a very good read, thanks for sharing Dale :)

[R Smith]

hi Dale, as requested i have moved my review to here, I hope this helps, i have had a similar problem recently on WC, i click onto my reviews and comments and as i'm looking at the screen the words are vanishing until all i have left are empty boxes and blank pages, sounds weird but has been happening for about a month, tried updating Java but so far no luck, hope you have better luck than me :)

[Confuser]

Thank you so much Richard. Java is updated...unless somethings gone awry. You have made me feel better...Emily gave me a link to the moderator and I tried to explain: I'm sorry it happened to you, but now I know it's not just me. Maybe a quitch. You may wish to let him know you are having the same problem??? I honestly have no idea. Thanks so much. Happy Mother's Day to you & yours.

[Workvio]

Dale,

You want my official and not so professional critique? ... You asked for it, and so here it is ... Yes, it is nice in a perfect world to achieve perfection in grammar and punctuation, but we do not live in a perfect world, nor are we perfect writers ... In fact most good writers are not all that great at their grammar and punctuation (punctuation most especially), and so let's see you stop putting yourself down before folks even get to enjoy your heart penned to page ... Okay ...

Now, very few good poets are also good story writers, and very few good story writers are also good poets, Edgar Allen Poe was an exception to that rule of thumb and I am sure there are others that simply do not come to mind at the moment ... That said, you are amongst those who are the exception to that rule ... You are a wonderfully odd duck ...!

So, my critique is: A HOT new romance writer has arrived on the scene to sweep readers off their feet and into an enchanting world that is very close to virtual reality ... A good story writer does not write, he/she/YOU paint with words to the canvas of page, and you do so quite majestically in using the brush of your pen to paint an image and world within your readers minds that is very much like being swept away and caught up within a blockbuster movie in theaters of olden days when movies were still magnificent and not the cheap five and dime productions they are today ... To capture your audience, your reader, from the very first paragraph, is the goal of every writer, just as catching the eye of the audience with the fine strokes of his/her brush is the goal of every artist ... I am pleased that you have chosen to begin writing stories, for you have talent that is simply oozing forth from within you, and has, hence, been going to waste ... You have paid attention to the writing of other good writers who use their pens as brushes to paint rather then to simply pound words to a page, and you have adapted what you have learned to your own style, a style that brings your painted words to life upon page ...!

Keep honing the skills you have been born with, and do not let others (self professed experts, glory grabbers, and the jealous) discourage you ... I truly enjoyed this, and am looking forward to more ...

[Marcel Grant]

I really really loved the detail here - "watching her breathe float away; a ghostly mist in the fog." (you need to remove the e in breathe though) to "like the tedious art of growing and caring for English violets, something Charles never appreciated." Everything here had such emphasis to what Julie was feeling and your comparisons were great.

The ONLY thing I found a little off, was the first paragraph of dialogue that Julie has with Charles. Reading it just seems a little funny to me, like she was reciting poem or a scripture. The rest of the dialogue was fine though.

For a short story, you generally can't get to know the characters too well, but I felt like I understood Julie just fine by the time it was done. I'm an older brother myself so I totally related to Joey too. Nice job and keep up the good work. :)

[Confuser]

Thanks for the insight Marcel. I re-read, and maybe I see what you mean. I suppose you could be right, I would talk like that....maybe a broader audience, non-Christian, wouldn't get it. Thank you so very much.

[Briana O'Connor]

This was absolutely enthralling. I didn't notice any grammar errors, but I was so eager to read through the story that I may not have been paying that close attention to the particulars. This story has so much potential to turn into a book. Nicely done. Thank you for sharing.