I have lived in New Hampshire most of my life, and for the past 50 years have covered several small towns for various local newspapers, writing both news and features. I am currently back, part time, for the Milford Cabinet, the one I started with, covering my town and the adjoining one with which we share a number of services, including the schools. My favorite subject is local history and am a founding member of the Historical Society (1976) and a charter member of the town’s Heritage Commission. I have just finished, as part of a committee, a history of out village school which was recently combined with the larger one down the road. That will be out in the next month. And, with another committee, am involved in updating our town history, last updated in 1955. That will be at least a two year project.
Since 1983, I have had a regular column of local history in various papers. That is my fun stuff.
No Coming Back will be my fourth published novel. I wrote the first version around 1955, my first contemporary novel, and rewrote it last year for today. Lots of fun updating technology.
Number five novel is under contract with Soul Mate and number six is in the editing stage.
Otherwise, I live in my Civil War-era farm house, which I share with a son and four cats, and spend what extra time I have in the garden, or traveling to visit my wandering family, spread from South Carolina to New Mexico. *Picture: My grandson named this car “Tigger” 18 years ago and he is now snoozing away his old age.
No Coming Back
Rich, deeply embittered, is recovering from an accident he blames on his step-father Jim. The injury has left him in pain, unable to play baseball, and may prevent him from ever returning to teaching physical education, a profession he loves.
Laura, now a nurse, knew Rich in high school and they reconnect in the emergency room. She knows how he should be, could be again, but is her growing love enough to get him there? Will he accept her help?
Ken, Rich’s step-brother, has always known he would one day take over the family business, but will his father ever allow him to do so? And Ken can’t free himself from a teen-age infatuation with his step-sister Wendy who has married someone else. And now Wendy’s marriage is in trouble and she is looking to Ken for support.
Susan, Laura’s cousin, saw Ken at a ballgame and fell instantly and hopelessly in love. But how can she meet him, and if she does, can she free him from his past and make him see he is an independent person?
And Jim, who has always controlled everything in his life, is watching his family disintegrate as much because of his pride as anything else. Is there any way that he can let go in order to keep them?
He didn’t move after they were gone. He didn’t know where Susan had gone and he could hear Tex and Gina somewhere out of his sight. In the bedroom probably. His cup was nearly empty and he drained it. He tried moving his leg but his knee was stiff and hurting from sitting still too long. His therapist had told him about that—keep moving it gently, don’t sit in one position too long to let it get stiff. He called, “Tex? Gina?”
After a long moment of dead silence, during which his frustration grew, Gina said from behind him, “Something wrong, Dickie?”
“It’s getting a little quiet.”
“So it is. Tex, let’s go somewhere where it’s a little livelier and there’s more room to dance. I want to try that new one on a real floor.”
“Gina, this is Rich’s party. I don’t think . . .”
She stamped her foot. “I want to leave.”
“Go on, Tex,” Rich said, not really meaning to. “You’ve got her and now she’s your problem.”
She snorted. “So that’s what you think of me, is it? A problem?”
Rich knew the beer was affecting him and his ability to control his tongue, but he didn’t care. “A big problem. Poor Tex.”
She glared at him, her eyes flashing. “You’re drunk, you poor fool.” “Yeah, I’m a poor fool.”
Tex put his hand on her arm. “Come on, Gina. Rich, take it easy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gina stopped in the doorway, then looked back at him and laughed. “Oh, Dickie!” She laughed again, mockingly, so like Jim Weston, and slammed the door behind her.
“Gina!” Forgetting his knee, Rich lurched out of the chair to follow her, ask her to come back. His knee buckled and he fell forward. Unable to catch himself on anything, the side of his head hit the sharp leg of the steel cot.