#ThrowbackThursday: Little Pauses

 

A few minutes later, glassware clinks down on the counter. He glances over expecting his mother’s disappointed face, and instead finds Tommy, folding back the sleeves of his sweater.

“What are you doing?” Lawson asks, stupidly.

“Move over. You cooked, I’ll wash.” He steps into Lawson’s space and hip checks him over. Plucks the sponge from his hand.

“You don’t have to,” Lawson says.

“Yes, I do.” Tommy plunges his hands into the soapy water. “You can dry if you want.”

Lawson pulls a clean towel out of the drawer, and Tommy thankfully doesn’t ask why they’re doing this by hand rather than loading the dishwasher. They do have an appointment with a repair guy, for next week in fact; they’ve replaced the motor in the thing twice, and they ought to spring for a new one. If Lawson says this, he’s sure there’ll be a Lowe’s delivery truck in the driveway tomorrow, so he takes the clean, dripping plates from Tommy and dries them.

They work silently at first, nothing but the low murmur of the TV from the next room and the slosh of the water in the sink the only sounds.

When Tommy starts in on the pasta pot, he says, so quiet Lawson leans closer to hear him, “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

The near corner of Tommy’s mouth hitches upward, and it’s a sad sort of smile he bestows upon the pot in his sudsy hands. “What it’s like being here with your folks. Your family is…”

“Hanging by a thread?” Lawson suggests. He at least feels that way, most days.

“Warm,” Tommy corrects. “They love you, and they love each other, and I always felt…” He trails off, and shrugs. “I always felt like I was wanted, when I was here.”

Oh. Oh, damn. “You were.”

I love the high-octane action stuff; the mysteries, the car chases, the showdowns. All of that. But my absolute favorite scenes to write are always the quiet domestic ones. A good action scene is all about choreography; it's okay to go a little crazy.

But the slow beats are where the heart of any story lies, and that's where you have the chance to make a story real for your readers. Knowing when to push forward, and when to pull back is a delicate balance in scenes like these; walking that line of saying just enough to get the meaning across without the characters word-vomiting. Life is full of so many little pauses, and the challenge of writing those in a believable way is my favorite aspect of the craft.

College Town, and its Tommy POV follow-up novella, A Cure for Recovery, are available for Kindle, paperback, Nook, and Kobo.