Welcome Sean Michael to my blog this week -- Sean's here to share a bit of Making It Work.
Making it Work, a Mannies
Incorportated Novel
Parker
has been Manny to Grif and Blue’s kids ever since the twins were first born.
Fourteen years later, he’s caring for five kids and Grif is now a widower.
Everything is about to change again for Park and his charges, though, as Grif
is marrying a man with three girls of his own and the new family is moving to a
big house they’ve built just outside of Ottawa.
Rand
has been with his family since fifteen-year-old Josie was little, and he now
finds himself transplanted from Austin, Texas to Ottawa, Canada when his
charges’ father, Mike, marries Grif. Coming to a new house in a new country
with a new blended family, he’s determined to make sure that even though
they’ve been uprooted, his girls still have everything they want and need.
What
could go wrong?
Park
and Rand’s styles as mannies couldn’t be more different, the kids all hate each
other on sight, and the newlywed fathers are busy honeymooning. It seems pretty
clear the whole situation is a recipe for disaster. Can everyone find their
place in this brand new family, including both mannies? And will Park and Rand
ever see eye to eye on anything? The answer surprises even them.
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Excerpt:
The
front door opened and he heard, “Good Lord, look at this place. It’s the size
of a cruise ship!”
That
had him chuckling, and he headed through the kitchen to the huge living
room/front hall/great room/whatever that made up the front third of the main
floor of the house to greet who had to be the other manny.
“Hey
there. I’m Parker Bouchard, but you can call me Park.”
He
stopped, more than a little stunned. The kids had warned him that the Richards’
manny was a hippy, but he hadn’t thought they were serious. This guy wore two
braids hanging to his waist on either side, a vest and a pair of baggy tie-dyed
pants and rope sandals, and piercings in his lip, his ear, and in his nose.
There was a guitar slung over one shoulder, a lean body covered in wildly
colored tattoos, and a bright rainbow bag. “Rand. Rock on.”
“Right.
Dude.” Because a guy like Rand had to be a dude, didn’t he? Park shook himself
mentally. Be nice. He’d met Mike and the girls, and the girls were well-behaved
young ladies. “I was just making a cup of coffee, we could sit and have a drink
and I’ll give you the loonie-tour afterwards.”
“Works
for me. I brought some kickass free-trade organic coffee from Austin, along
with all the kids’ teas. I can’t wait to explore my grocery options.”
“Grocery
options? I put in an order once a month online, there’s a half a cow in the
freezer, and we get a green goods box every week for fruit and veg. I’ll just
increase the order.” They had to combine the family, right?
“Yep.
Penny is vegan. Josie is gluten free, and Carrie, at this point, only eats
peanut butter and eggs.” The man put his guitar and bags down. “Lead on,
MacDuff.”
“Is
Josie allergic to gluten or have celiac disease?” He didn’t hold with different
food for different kids, but allergies had to be worked around. He was even
willing to find vegan options for the Penny as long as she followed through on
that mindset in the rest of her life, too. But the youngest was SOL as far as
being catered to went. If you were hungry, you ate. He led the way to the
kitchen.
“She’s
gluten-sensitive. It bothers her ADHD. No need to worry. I’ll cook for them. I
have that down. I’m sure you heard about the horror when your brood visited. They
couldn’t wait to get home to ‘real food’.” The last words came with air quotes.
“I
don’t see why we have to make four different meals just to feed the kids.
They’ll all have to learn to compromise. And your youngest needs to learn she
eats what’s on hand or she doesn’t eat. You can’t let her dictate you like that
or it’s going to expand into more than just food.”
He
grabbed an extra mug and poured them each a coffee.
“Thanks
for the input.” That didn’t sound even a bit like an agreement.
“Look.
We need to work together here, help integrate the families. If the kids see us
divided, they’re going to think it’s just fine and dandy that they are too.
Whether or not we agree, we can’t let them see that. We should keep this kind
of discussion private. And frankly, I think we should decide now on as many
things as we can think of that are going to come up so that we already have our
position to fall back on.” He wasn’t asking a lot, really. He just wanted his
well-oiled machine to continue being a well-oiled machine. He was pretty sure
Rand was more a blowing-in-the-wind kind of guy and that wasn’t going to work
here. Not with eight kids coming together because their dads got married.
“Hmm.”
Okay, what did that mean? That was the epitome of nonanswer answer.
“Is
that agreement?” Think positive, right? Just because Rand looked like he was
the total opposite of Park physically didn’t mean their thoughts on child
rearing were so different. He could hope, anyway, right? There had to be a
chance, slim though it might be.
“I
have zero issues communicating. However, the girls have been through a lot of
change. I’m not going to force the meal issue with them. I’ll cook for them or,
if you’d like, cook for the group, but I’m not interested in disrupting them
any more than they have been.” The words were calm, quiet, and utterly
immovable.
“So
how long are we going to do this cooking whatever anybody wants even if it
means something different for eight different kids thing? At some point they’ve
got to deal. And my kids have been uprooted too, you know. This is a new house
for them, and they’re going to be going to different schools. And the whole
blending-the-families thing. If we just keep everything the way it is, that
blended thing is never going to work.” He was a little surprised that someone
who looked like such an easygoing hippy was being recalcitrant about fitting
them all together.
“Well,
probably thirteen years, unless Rommy decides that I’m not trying to poison
him. Then I could cook for fifteen. I still haven’t figured that out. I tend
not to plan more than a decade out.”
“You’re
going to cook different meals for every kid until they leave the nest?
Seriously? So they rule the roost is what you’re saying?” Ran roughshod over
Rand big-time, he bet.
Bio:
Best-selling
author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out
in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several
documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi,
Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean
fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by
horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until
then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.
Sean
Michael on the web:
WEBSITE:
http://www.seanmichaelwrites.com
BLOG:
http://seanmichaelwrites.blogspot.ca
FACEBOOK:
https://www.facebook.com/SeanMichaelWrites/
TWITTER:
seanmichael09
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