Thursday, June 13, 2013



Introducing The Kokomos:








Esteban









Gloria







Marco







 
Mira

Cassandra


Name -  LTW - Traits – Favorites – Eye Color

Esteban Vincente' Kokomo.  LTW:  Surrounded By Family.  
Traits:  Brave,  Family-oriented, Green Thumb, Grumpy, Handy.  
Faves:  Pancakes, Kidz Music, Orange.  Amber Eyes.

Gloria Lynn  Kokomo.  LTW:  Swimming In Cash.  
Traits:  Easily Impressed, Frugal, Genius, Natural Cook, Nurturing. 
Faves: Cookies, Pop Music, Pink.  Turquoise- blue Eyes.

THE KOKOMO CHILDREN and Grandchildren

Marco Kokomo - 1st Born. Heir.  Adult.   LTW:  Professional Author.  
Traits:  Computer Whiz, Couch Potato, Coward, Easily Impressed, Family Oriented.    
Faves:  Vegetarian Chili, Classical Music, Pink.  Turquoise-blue Eyes.  
Wife:  Tresa -  YA.  LTW:  CEO of a Mega Corporation.  
Traits:  Ambitious, Dislikes Children, Friendly, Hopeless Romantic, Workaholic.  
Faves:  Tri-tip steak, Classical, Purple.  Lime-green Eyes.
Vincente' - 1st Born.  Toddler.  LTW:  ?  Traits At Birth:  Genius, Slob.    
Faves:  Peanut Butter & Jelly, Roots, Irish Green.  Turquoise-blue eyes.
Cara Lynn - 2nd Born.  Toddler.  LTW:  ?  Traits At Birth:  Genius, Couch Potato.  
Faves:  Ceviche', Rockabilly, Hot Pink.  Turquoise-blue eyes


Mira Kokomo - 2nd Born.  YA.  LTW:  Seasoned Traveler.  
Traits:  Adventurous, Athletic, Friendly, Gatherer, Loves The Outdoors.  
Faves:  Dim sum, Hip Hop, Red.  Turquoise-blue Eyes.


Cassandra Kokomo - 3rd Born.  YA.  LTW:  Vocal Legend.   
Traits:  Absent minded, Charismatic,  Diva, Slob, Excitable.  
Faves:  Cookies, Songwriter, Hot Pink.  Turquoise-blue Eyes.

****************

CHAPTER 1

Esteban Kokomo's life in Aurora Skies began after a temporary military posting.  However, as an amateur gardener, he had appreciated the ecology driven lifestyle and settled there permanently.  

Recently he had endured midlife crisis without fulfilling one errant desire or wistful urge. Not by accident, oh no;  Esteban deliberately chose to live bravely; with a sense of truth, guided by responsibility, honor, and

purpose that made him answerable to an extremely harsh dictator:  himself. 

Some fleeting thoughts had been quite enticing; but in the end he had refused to qualify any of them.  He simply did not take the time to, even once, give serious consideration to acting upon any of  the nudges which rose from his subconscious now and then.

After some months the craziest of the urges became less insistent, and finally they receded obediently back into his subconscious.  Esteban thanked the Watcher that he had not rushed to either move to another house, quit his job, risk his reputation and marriage with a flirtation, or spend hard earned simoleons on a flashy new car.  He was a pragmatist as well as a bit of a pessimist, and given the opportunity, had no hesitations about sharing his views and opinions of people, life, and the world at large.


He knew that Gloria would not have tolerated self-centered behavior anyway; she hadn't for their children and was not likely to make an exception for him.  Not that he needed her to; Esteban's main focus was his wife, helping to raise their three children, and how he could improve his craft as a senior manager over the Morningside Morgue and Cemetery's Epitaph department.  Using his available energy to meet  the demands of marriage, children, and career had therefore left little time for mid-life dreams, spontaneous wishes, or self-centered indulgences.

Where there had seemed to be no time, to Esteban's chagrin,  he now had plenty. Within a few years of surmounting the obstacles of mid-life crises, his oldest son married, his middle daughter, and then even the youngest, their baby, had followed; packing up and moving out to maneuver through life on their own.
Then seemingly out of the blue, the company he had pushed himself so hard to please had decided to gold-watch him into an early retirement.

Esteban Vincente' Kokomo grumbled.  Now, at least officially, he was an old man.

So, he had lots of time. In fact, he had nothing but seconds, upon minutes, upon hours, upon days of time on his hands; more time than he could fill.  After the initial rush of pleasure at being able to relax when and where he wanted, and finding no need to multi-task his day, he began to feel adrift and truly resent what few tasks in life remained for him to manage.

Unconsciously, as some elders tend to do, he had also developed a nervous habit; that of frequently checking the time on his gold watch.  It was not that he ever expected the precision timepiece to gain or lose a second, still that did not prevent him from glancing down at it again and again.  He fell into a pattern; surreptitiously noting how many minutes had passed since the last time he'd looked.

They should not even give old people expensive watches, or ornate desk and table clocks he groused.  Remembering a few retirement parties he'd gone to Esteban realized that clocks and watches, or time themes, had usually featured prominently.

It was as if society had made it mandatory that parties for people over a certain age remind the recipient that their usefulness had ended, that life was passing them by, and the Reaper closing in.


Esteban found the more he thought about all the things he had not done, his days seemed long and his nights seemed even longer.  Now that he had the time, he also found himself looking to mirrors and seeing reflected not just his aging face, but his heart as well.  The state of neither encouraged him.

Even when he forced a tiny smile, his reflection showed how fast time was passing.  It also reflected undeniable evidence of  his increasing discontent.  He recalled in younger days that there was always a puffiness under his eyes when he first woke up; but now the bags under his eyes stayed with him all day. Once vibrant chestnut brown, his hair, along with his beard and eyebrows was fading toward murkiness as it grayed more and more.
He'd always thought his eyes too small, and now they seemed to actually be disappearing into the lines and wrinkles forming around them.  Sometimes Esteban wondered how his Gloria could even stand living with a face such as his!

When he made an off-hand remark to this fact, she chuckled and told him that she loved his face just as it was.  She also said that his face wasn't the problem and that he was probably feeling something known as “Empty Nest Syndrome.”   The malaise could be overcome, she insisted,  it if he would only apply himself to something.  In return that something would give back to him the renewed sense of purpose he desired.

Esteban shrugged a shrug that signaled she could be right, and she smiled pleased to have helped him. His mind drifted as she continued talking.  Gloria always had quasi-scientific opinions for everything.  She read a lot, and although he  loved her deeply, as was the way with most very smart people, she thought she had the answer for everything.
In retrospect, to her, their nest must have seemed very empty;  for Gloria was perpetually busy.  She was always applying herself, doing something, going somewhere, meeting someone for lunch,or joining a new committee.

Esteban on the other hand, readily accepted that he did not know everything; but what he did know was that he did not want to just keep busy; he wanted . . . well, he wanted to be useful, to have a truly worthy goal.  She was trying to encourage him, but Gloria did not understand.  He was a man who had always reached toward something.  Now he was a man who no longer had a mountain to climb, a real work to do, or a destination in mind.

 Gloria

Esteban


When Gloria and he were younger, just starting out, everything had seemed possible!  Perhaps that was the way it was with all new husbands, but Esteban remembered that he had wanted to reach up and pluck the sun, moon, and stars from the skies on her behalf.

In those days they'd chatted about how he'd surely rise to the very top of the company, that they'd have at least five children; and that if it were possible to do so, she'd swim in cash.  He had dreamed that with all their financial success they'd one day move into a luxurious mansion.

Life had taken several detours, twists, loop the loops, and other turns; he'd done none of  what he'd hoped, none. Three children, forced retirement, and a half empty three-bedroom house was the result of all his dreams.  That was the best he had been able to manage; he was a failure.  His failures haunted his days and nights as he tossed and turned asking himself, "Is this all there is?"

He had yet to bring himself to share with Gloria all that was on his heart.  He knew that she would only psycho babble him, and coddle him to try and make him feel better.  So he let her prattle on about how it hurts when things change and children leave home.  Esteban smiled a little; nodding now and then in order to be agreeable.  Being agreeable would end the conversation as quickly as possible.

He had learned over the years that it did not pay to argue with Gloria, unless it was a battle really worth fighting.  So he nodded and smiled at her, but privately he did not think he really had this "empty nest" whatchamacallit.
Empty nests did not trouble him. He missed the kids some, sure, but not a lot.  He had learned to accept their moving on, up, and out.  Mother birds push fledglings from the nest to make them try their wings; kids leave home.  Their children visited for most major holidays, and they called home to talk with their parents regularly; for him, it was enough.

Gloria would be shocked to know that the majority of the time it actually felt good to him that there was finally quiet in the house again. Esteban had quickly grown to like knowing there would be something left in the refrigerator when he wanted a snack.  He liked being able to walk around in his underwear if he wanted to.

He also took pleasure of  knowing that he could freely open any door in his home without someone screaming "Daaaaad!"  in mortification, or shooing him out of the bathroom when he really needed to pee.  No, Gloria was wrong, he did not regret their so called "empty nest" being empty at all.


What would not let him sleep through most nights was a thing Gloria had never considered.  Regret was the name of the specter that shrouded his thoughts.  Regret weighed down his shoulders and made him squint with pain when its headaches came, pounding their tiny metal hammers just above his left eyebrow.
Sometimes instead of giving him an earful, Esteban saw Gloria's  beautiful blue eyes fill with water and he would feel even more ashamed of himself; adding weight to the burdens he already carried

Esteban's general curmudgeonly attitude had escalated; and as his grumpiness increased.  Protracted silences, sharp glances, and sharper words between them became more, and more, and more common.  Gloria already knew something ugly had crept into their home.

She also noticed that Esteban no longer attended to his garden.  Being retired, he was able to, at last, putter in the yard as much as he wanted. Yet now that he had ample time, he did not want to putter at all.



Even the seed hunts that once gave him such pleasure seemed so trivial now.  She remembered a time when Esteban had enjoyed wondering whether the seed he'd found was viable, or what the sprout that surfaced would finally grow to be.

Some seeds he had eventually come to recognize on sight, others were complete mysteries to him and he'd talked about, and looked forward to, pruning and watering the seedlings to harvest stage.  It was hard to believe that once upon a time the ban with whom she now shared her heart and life had even dreamed of cultivating a garden with one of everything.

Now most of the plants in their garden had either gone barren for the winter, or given up and died of neglect.  Gloria still patiently nurtured the few hardy stragglers which had insisted on producing through the fall season.  She had even planted the special seed Esteban had found- and then negligently tossed into an empty patio container and forgotten about -  to sprout!

When leaves had first unfurled from the budding branches, like a kid Gloria had raced into the house and forcibly pulled Esteban into the backyard so that he could see this wonder! He told her that he had never seen a tree with such kaleidoscopic leaf colors and had no idea what species it was.
He had promised her that  they would take leaf samples to the Science Research Center to find out the name of their mystery tree on day soon; but since he had yet to keep that promise, Gloria had simply nicknamed it her "Fiesta Tree".

"Fiesta is one smart little tree," she'd once shared.  "Winter is coming, but it knows that in life sometimes you may have to party all by yourself.  Party regardless of what is going on around you."

When Esteban heard those words, he thought to himself:  Gloria, you deserve better; a better man and a better life than what I have given you. You deserve a fiesta, a party, everyday.

Esteban sighed.  He knew their garden was neglected, but he just didn't want to pull weeds anymore.  They would defy him by reappearing almost as soon as his back was turned.  What was the use?  Gardening was a losing battle against insects, disease, weather, marauding deer, and countless other challenges.  Even if you overcame everything else, just when you thought you had succeeded, plants went barren.  No, no, no; gardening was not his idea of fun, not anymore.

"Esteban?" Gloria asked last week.  "Please just go rake the lawn, and mow our grass; okay?"  He had grunted an acknowledgement that he had heard her, but then plopped down in front of the television to eat a second helping of that morning's delicious apple pancakes.  He loved pancakes.  He did not love mowing the lawn. 



An hour later as he was surfing for yet another new program, Gloria had stood beside the sofa and glared at him.

"There are rodents in our yard!  Squirrels and chipmunks are scampering through the vegetables; do something, do anything!  He stared at her.
"You're driving me crazy Esteban; nobody likes grumpy old men!"

With her flashing blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and both fisted hands resting on her hips, she would have been a fearsome sight to the children.  They would have been like the squirrels and chipmunks she'd mentioned, and gone scurrying for cover!  Esteban however was not a child.  "Later," he told her and defiantly went back to his channel surfing. He expected her to lash out at him further, but she had only exhaled, placed one soft palm against his forehead for a few seconds, then walked away.

Later in the week, just after breakfast, Gloria had conversationally hinted that their lawn was now over 3" high.  She said that soon she would not be surprised if some of the area's deer came over to graze.

Esteban had  sighed and checked his watch.  The day had barely begun and she was starting in on him.  He did not want to garden!  Didn't she realize that if he mowed the grass, then he would have to water it, and then if he watered it, it would grow back?  He would then have to cut it again, and it would grow back!  It was a stupid, vicious, self defeating cycle.

In all seriousness he had told her that as far as he was concerned, the deer were welcome to dine as they pleased with his blessings. 

*******************


CHAPTER 2

Esteban sighed and looked around the waiting room.   He hated waiting.  He especially hated waiting in doctor's offices.  He checked the time on his gold watch.  He should have kept his mouth shut.

 Perhaps then Gloria would not have insisted that he go to the doctor. At least, he thought, consoling himself; it would eventually be over.

The only thing left for him to do now was wait for the sadistic lab techs to descend on him with the pretense of monitoring his cholesterol.  Oh!  They were so gleeful as their needles poked and prodded his arm looking for a "good" vein; the ghouls!  They complained last time that his veins were uncooperative,  and kept rolling out of the way.  He'd winced with each stab of the needle.  They talked as if he was deliberately controlling his body's rebellious response.

Esteban sighed aloud  at the irritating memory, and reached for one of the magazines displayed.  His mind churned.  Gloria was such a worrywart!  He had answered all her questions.  He had told her that he was okay.  Still, his word had not been good enough.
Esteban snapped the magazine open; she had made a blankety-blank doctor's appointment for him anyway!  Then she had deliberately kept it hidden until it could no longer be cancelled without a fee!

In the part of his mind that harbored honesty, he could not help but chuckle to himself.  She had outsmarted him!  Esteban knew Gloria loved him, and was concerned about him.  However, the grumpy part of his nature continued to seethe at her meddling.

As those emotions grew, he felt more and more irritable.  She was wasting good money!  There was nothing wrong with him; nothing!  A doctor, a team of doctors could search forever, but would not find the answer to his ague in any of their miscellaneous test tubes.

Esteban sighed his zillionth sigh of the day, and closed his eyes; asking the Watcher for patience with the office's ghoulish lab staff, with Gloria, and with the entire world. They were all conspiring to drive him mad!.


His chin dipping toward his chest startled him.  Had he dozed off?  Only tired old men did stuff like that!  Deliberately widening his eyes, he noted that the waiting room was starting to fill.  What was it, a part of him groused as he again perused one glossy advertisement after another in the magazine he held, what was it that made wives meddle, poke, and prod?
He did not interfere in her life!  Gloria had the house, her clubs, the Fiesta tree, cooking their meals; and lots of other stuff to attend to.  He never interrupted, corrected, or plotted behind her back  She however had, and she was also trying to force him to be healthier whether he wanted to be or not!
He'd told her that he accepted he would live as long as he lived.  And when he couldn’t . .  well then he just wouldn’t; end of story!  His parents did it that way, her parents too!!!  Why borrow trouble?


Esteban smiled grimly.  At least when his time came, finally there would be no more nagging, no more needles and no more lectures. Then, at last maybe, he'd have real peace!  Snorting over the mental image of himself lying peacefully in state and surrounded by bouquets of colorful flowers, he reached for another magazine to scan, discarded it and impatiently grabbed yet another; thanking Gloria for this complete waste of time.

Suddenly an article in the magazine he held caught his attention.  Wait a minute, wait a minute! What was this?  As he sat up straighter, looking over the words with interest, a lab tech called his name.  Muttering to himself, he reluctantly dropped the magazine back onto the table.


Throughout the day's tests, Esteban's mind buzzed.   He'd been weighed, had his chest thumped as he took deep breaths and exhaled.  They used various gadgets to shine lights into his eyes, ears, down his throat, and even embarrassingly up his rear!  They'd taken his blood pressure, his temperature, a urine sample, a stool sample, and a gallon of blood.  Like a recalcitrant kid he'd even been made to discuss meal plans with a dietitian.

The worst was still yet to come, however.  Esteban dreaded facing the hurdle of lectures and medical admonitions he would undergo before a prescription was finally renewed or changed.  
The icing on the cake was that in spite of their good intentions (and for with all their smarts, diplomas, and the capital letters strung out behind their names) to him most looked like kids playing doctors.


How was he to convince himself to take them seriously?  When he looked into their eyes it was almost like looking at his own children.



When he was shown into a consultation office, he swallowed hard; one last hurdle to go and he'd be home free.
                                                                                   

Across from him sat young Dr. Nielle.  Dr. Nielle was Gloria's favorite, and also the one who was most stern with him.
“ Mr. Kokomo," the pretty, pony-tailed coiffed gerontologist exhaled his name.  "Your LDL is up, " she said disapprovingly.  He'd shrugged.

"You must eat more vegetables!  You’re going to have to get serious about reducing your red meat consumption, increasing your intake of whole grains, drinking plenty of water,  and above all not just becoming resigned to sitting around and watching the world go by.  This is your life, the only one you have. Find something to do; something that will make you getup, get out and exercise!”



As Dr. Nielle droned on and on Esteban smiled inwardly at the thought of following her instructions  by defiantly taking up snowboarding.  



On his next visit, if he plopped a couple of trophies and some prize ribbons down on the desk, that would shut Dr. Nielle up for sure!  Sludge huh?  That would show her, that would show all of them!



With a shake of his head Esteban came back to earth, nodded toward the earnest young doctor, sighed and checked the time yet again.


The reality was that at his age he was more likely to get a prize for  falling from a snowboard than maneuvering one.  And such a fall would likely break every breakable bone in his body.
It irked him that even if he really wanted to, realistically he would not be taking up the dangerous sport of snowboarding.  He knew it perfectly well, and hated that as much as he would like to, he wouldn't be showing Dr. Nielle, or anyone on her staff, a thing.
In his heart he knew he was still a capable man.  In his heart he felt he could still do something worthwhile, perhaps even something a little daring.  He was not really that old, was he?  And he had inherited the constitution of a bull from his forefathers, even if his body admittedly, wasn't what it used to be.

The doctor cleared her throat a couple of times to get his attention.  She frowned across the desk at him, then fixed him with one of her infamously stern parent-to-child type gazes.
 “Nice watch," she said.  "Am I boring you Mr. Kokomo?  We've talked about this before, and I'm sure you'll agree that being healthy is a fight you can't afford to lose.


Think of your wife, your children; and  what about your grandchildren? A better diet, exercise, and with proper care you could live to see them graduate; perhaps see great grandchildren one day.  I'll be blunt Mr. Kokomo; your blood will slowly turn to sludge if you don’t change your lifestyle!”

Esteban tried to concentrate on the  diplomas on the wall behind her head.  But once again all he was hearing was yadda, yadda, yadda; and more yadda   He didn't understand why Gloria had decided that they needed start seeing fancy- schmancy gerontologists anyway.  A good old fashioned M.D. would have done him just fine!

He could talk to, and definitely better relate to someone who'd lived long enough to have a touch of gray in the temples and a bit of life under their belt.  The kids knew nothing about getting old, or being old; nothing!

After a few more comments Dr. Nielle finally scrawled his prescription.  After firmly looking into his eyes, she shook his hand just as firmly; and he was free.  Relieved that for a few months all this was over, Esteban hurried to the cashier window to pay the bill.

Uncharacteristically he did so without once scrutinizing the charges, grumbling, or complaining.  He was mainly still preoccupied with the glimpses he'd had of that magazine article, and his mind kept swirling over the few blurbs he'd read.  Esteban checked his watch.  He could hardly wait to get to the reception area and read the entire magazine article without interruption.

After finishing the article, he sat for a few moments genuinely smiling for the first time in a very long time. Then getting to his feet, he hurried right past the reception desk, thought better of it, then returned to ask if he could borrow or buy the magazine that he'd been reading.

Her name plate read "Melinda."  She had platinum blond hair, long eyelashes, and a pert nose.  She was stunning until she looked up.  Her eyes glared, and her pump pink lips were curled in a disdainful snarl.    What had he done wrong, he wondered, asked her a question?  Wasn't that why her desk was in the lobby?  He glared back at her in return.

 "Whoa!" Esteban gestured. "You act like I snatched your lollipop, or repo'd your car or something.  For a simple question, I'd like a simple yes or no answer please.  I don't need the attitude, I've got enough of my own.  Believe me when I say, you don't want to go where I think you're headed."

 After of few seconds of murderous glares over the top of her monitor screen, the receptionist snapped that he could keep the magazine with her blessing, and to have a nice day.

 Esteban took a deep breath.  Lacing his fingers together, he forced himself to be calmer. 

"Thank you Melinda," he replied. "Same to you; and I will."  Although both Melinda and her supervisor could certainly have used a refresher on the importance of  good customer service, today was not the day.  Melinda, with her pretty name and ugly attitude, was lucky.  Ordinarily he would have been delighted to hang her out to dry.  However, for today any Melindas he encountered would be given a reprieve, today he wouldn't let  such rudeness faze him.  Today, right now in fact, he had to get home!

A glimmer of a possibility was shimmering just out of reach.  Esteban snatched the magazine off the small center table and walked out.  He believed he had found a challenge worth pursuing, and he had to get home as soon as he could to tell Gloria about it and see what she thought!

*************


CHAPTER 3

Gloria stared at Esteban.  She was a little irritated.  Well actually, she was very irritated.  He had come home a few minutes ago waving his arms in the air and calling out her name at the top of his voice.  He had been  like a crazy person!

At first she feared something had happened to one of the children, or that the doctor, Watcher forbid,  had given him some very bad news.
She had anxiously put aside the tofu hot dogs she'd been grilling, and rushed towards him.
Her heart was pounding.  "What! What?  What is wrong Esteban?  What is it?  What in SimEarth has happened?" Gloria demanded, throwing up her hands, bracing herself for the bad news.  In fear her eyes had widened to the size of saucers.


When she learned that the kids were safe, and that he was also fine, Gloria was relieved.
When she learned all of this commotion was about some magazine thing he'd just read, she began to get pretty angry. Esteban had scared her half to death!

Making growling noises deep in her throat she counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty to help circumvent saying something she knew she'd regret.

Realizing his mistake and how he had upset her, Esteban looked at the wall, the ceiling, anywhere else; but he could not look her in the eye.  "Sorry," he mumbled.  Clearing his throat a few times, he decided that if he wanted her to hear him with an open mind, it would be better for him to speak complete sentences in a normal tone.  Then, if he was lucky, perhaps Gloria would also forgive him, calm down and listen. He crossed the fingers of the left hand hanging down at his side and offered her a heartfelt apology.

********************


CHAPTER 4


Esteban paced; Gloria's frown deepened..  She read, then re-read the article in the magazine.  Esteban's mouth was finally quiet, but in a way, he was just as loud with his pacing, pacing, pacing; like a crazy man.  When she cleared her throat pointedly, he’d stop; only to look at her and pace some more.  Watcher!  He was making her so nervous!  His scrutiny interfered with her concentration; already she'd had to read the magazine article twice.

It was a struggle at first, but once she had successfully blocked Esteban's nervous pacing out of her mind she had been able to plod ahead; making herself read carefully.  With a sigh of relief, after she finished reading and examining the fine print on everything,  she sat silently for a few moments with her thoughts.

Was he telling her he wanted to move to some island? she wondered.  Or was he asking, did he just want her agreement to enter some tropical contest?  Maybe, it was actually both.  Impossibly if he should win they'd then need to move away from Aurora,  their home, the children, and their friends.  Everything familiar would have to be left behind.


Gloria wanted more than anything to please Esteban; she always had.  He had been so heartbroken when she'd miscarried a month from term.  After a simple memorial service they had buried their precious 4th born.  The man had grieved so, she had thought he would never recover. They had tried again later but even with medical shots, schedules, and charting her temperature, the Watcher had not brought them any additional children. 

Concentrating on the three little ones still living, they had slowly healed; but it had been a dark time in their lives.  When forced retirement had pitched Esteban into another darkness of spirit, Gloria had talked to him, made suggestions, reasoned with him, cajoled him, even intentionally heckled him; but nothing had helped shake him out of his stupor, and she had begun to fear for him again.

She looked across the room, not yet ready to meet his excited gaze.  It was true that this magazine article had put some sparkle back into Esteban's eyes; but it was a contest.  It was a slick advertising gimmick, a creative travel magazine filler, something fascinating enough to resonate subliminally; very few people wouldn't like to run away to a tropical island.
What it was not, was a sure thing; not at all.  Esteban was searching for something to anchor himself to; her poor Esteban had grabbed a contest form as the buoy to keep him afloat.  He had drifted from grumpy to unhappy lately, but still Gloria had to ask herself hard questions.
 Esteban wanted her to enthusiastically agree; but what would it do to him if she did and then they failed to win this tropical grand prize?  Would the darkness return even worse than before?   Was it worth the risk?  Was the way things were now any better?


Esteban had always had her respect and support in everything, for he was a good man; a faithful, loving husband.  Even more than agreements Gloria felt she owed her husband the truth.  Truth was what they had based their marriage on, and in 40 years the trust between them had never been broken or proven misplaced.
Because she loved him, trusted him, Gloria felt that she would have to voice her reservations.  Even if it hurt him, Esteban would have to listen. In good conscience she could not simply acquiesce to the allure of the spell he'd fallen under.  She could not stand by and just wait for his heart to be broken.



"Let us both sit here in the kitchen my Love.  We need to talk," she said.  Taking a deep breath, Gloria laid the magazine on the dinette table between them.  Esteban lowered himself into a chair opposite her.  And so began a deep conversation as back and forth, first one and then the other voiced their thoughts.


As tactfully as possible Gloria reminded Esteban that having optimism was good,  but caution was stilled called for.  The odds of winning such a contest, logically, were not exactly in their favor.  She also pointed out that they were elders and not the bright-eyed newlyweds they once were, and that contest judges often seemed to love so much. 








They also had children to think about she warned him; and grandchildren as well.  Plus, and foremost, they could try their best, but they might not even pass the interview process and make it into the necessary final elimination round. All of that must be considered and if he still felt taking such a chance was vital to his well-being, then she would support him all the way.  




Gloria then paused, having run out of words.  For the first time since they'd sat down, the tension between Esteban's shoulders began to relax.

Of all the things Gloria had just said; Gloria had not said no.

At least she was considering it; accepting the possibility of them moving.  She was concerned about the children though; he knew her nurturing instincts were strong; it was one of the things he loved most about her, she truly cared about people.

"Gloria," he began patiently, carefully.  "The children are not our little babies any longer; the children are all grown.  They will be fine; they are fine.  We do not need to keep looking over their shoulders.  They do not need us to wipe their noses, and we do not need to deny ourselves this chance on their behalf.
"Whether we enter this contest or not, whether we win or not; the one thing we should accept my Love is that this time of life we now share is very precious.  Whatever time we have left on SimEarth, we are older yes, but we are almost as we were when we started out; it is the two of us."

Gloria sat silently.  Esteban waited silently.  Although it was he that had most wanted a larger family, it was Gloria that felt everything that had to do with their children more keenly.  She had always been an agreeable person for the most part, but Esteban knew she did not like change, and that she could not be rushed; a feeling of security was very important to her.  He must let her settle her heart and then, if it would, her mind would follow.  The silence between them continued.

After a few more minutes Esteban softly added that nothing anchored them to Aurora Skies but memories; mostly good memories, but together they could still make new ones.  Yes, they did have family, children and two wonderful grandchildren whose proximity they would surely miss, he acknowledged.  "But there are holidays, vacations, planes, and boats Gloria," he'd said. "The world is ours today, Sims can go everywhere; there is even an established Lunar Colony!  If we win my Love, should we move . . . Isla Paridiso is not so far away, not too far.  Imagine what wonderful reunions we could all have together on a tropical island!"  Gloria timorously smiled.

***************


CHAPTER 5

Marco was unlike his younger sisters Mira and Cassandra.  Marco was a home body; he was never bored indoors.  He had actually preferred watching television, long talks at the dinner table, surfing chat rooms, and hacking websites to playing tag or riding bikes. Gloria tried not to have a favorite, but Marco was a perfect son.
Little Mr. Perfection had come home from school class one day, and over their daily milk and cookies talk told his mother that had made up his mind to marry the girl in his math class.  Gloria had smiled and ruffled her fingers through his wavy hair.

In high school the girl, Tresa, often came over to do homework with Marco.  One day she announced her ambition was to become the first female CEO in Aurora Skies.  Gloria frowned.
Later, after boarding school and landing her first job Gloria overheard Tresa make it crystal clear to Marco that although she loved him, she wanted a successful career more than she wanted a house full of children.  She'd gone on to whisper that actually she pretty much disliked anything to do with children.  Gloria's breath had caught in her throat, for it was no secret that Marco, like father like son, had always hoped for at least five little ones of his own to raise. Would he choose a life with Tresa over accepting his role as family heir?

Before long Tresa was selected for a mentoring program at DooPeas' branch office in Aurora Skies.  Soon after that, the two married. Gloria cried for days but she and Esteban finally resigned themselves.  Marco loved his wife, he seemed content to run their house, swap recipes with his mother and others, and take sporadic courses to perfect his writing.

As the elder Kokomos saw howTresa and Marco seemed to truly love and care for each other in ways that eventually managed to surmount their obstacles; it was enough.  Their acceptance was replaced by delight when Tresa  and Marco added twins to the family.
     

It was Marco who enthusiastically made sure the littlest Kokomos were fed, changed, rocked, and well snuggled.  With Esteban and Gloria helping as needed, the twins learned how to potty, walk, and talk in such record time that Esteban proudly declared them both to be geniuses!  

 
When the twins became toddlers, surprisingly, Tresa made it a point to come home early enough every evening to make sure that she could read the twins a bedtime story.  Whichever child met Tresa at the door first was instantly wept up into her arms, tickled, and kissed with abandon.

The other child watched and waited from the security of either PopPop Esteban's or Grammy Gloria's arms.  Both always looked forward to their turn at being smothered in Mommy's lipsticked kisses, and gleefully enduring her version of "The Claw." 

Afterwards Tresa would sit down on the carpeted floor and hold both children in her lap as she patiently read to them. Even if she left afterward to hold a late meeting, or in order to leave DooPeas early brought so much work home that it kept her up most of the night . . . Tresa had never disappointed the children.  



When she traveled, Tresa  then read Vincente' and Cara their story by computer.  They were more fascinated by their mother's image on the screen than the pages Marco was turning in the duplicate book he held.  When Tresa was promoted to a Division Manager, DooPeas transferred her to Riverview, moving little Vincente' and Cara Lynn hours away; once again Gloria cried. 

Shortly after the move, a barbecue flash fire scared Marco so much that he passed out!  Luckily the fire was outdoors, small, the children were napping, and the fire department had arrived quickly.  As a result Marco began a list of emergency rules he strove to follow.  He called them "Daddy Dues and Donts."  From that grew a plan to write books that would help new fathers anticipate the joys and better navigate the challenges of fatherhood.  As the children grew, Marco envisioned sequels stretching through the twins' teen years.

Gloria said that Mira had been a restless child, even in the womb.  She was still restless.  
For a time they had been worried.  Mira was always racing around the house having pillow fights with the air or out in the yard seemingly playing tag all by herself.  She had at first maintained that she had an imaginary friend but by the time they sent her away to boarding school she had thankfully grown out of it. 
Mira's job, as a Travel Critic for SimCation Magazine was a perfect fit.  She was paid well to, pretty much, take vacations for a living.  She would document the sights with her photos, and write accompanying articles describing the best places for Sims to visit and what fun things they could do locally after they arrived.  Having almost continuous assignments had Mira happily traveling the globe.  


Her small apartment, as well as one of the Kokomo's spare bedrooms, was cluttered with the relics and souvenirs Mira kept sending from the far flung corners of Simdom.  
"That one" Gloria had prophesied one day with a shake of her head as yet another heavily custom stamped crate had arrived, "will never slow down and get married.  Mark my words."  Esteban had loved having a family, and that made it difficult to understand why anyone would choose to live alone.  Hesitantly, as the years passed, he was leaning towards agreeing with Gloria.  Their Mira seemed content as she was and it was entirely likely she would continue to give them artifacts in their old age, not grand babies.

Cassandra, their youngest, had left home three years ago.  She'd taken an apartment in the entertainment capitol of Starlight Shores, and was determinedly pursuing stardom through a singing career.  This summer Cassandra was singing in Moonlight Falls as part of a touring musical revue.

So far they had been unable to hear from her or reach her by phone; but they weren't really worried yet.

Unfailingly, especially when she was on tour, Cassandra was a bit more self-centered and absent-minded than she usually was.  She was also opinionated and headstrong, but she'd never given her parents any serious trouble; even as a prank loving teenager.

  The Kokomos believed that either their calls would be returned, or Cassandra  would eventually write.  

Their little Diva wasn't the type to avoid family, or any attention she felt was due her; she had always thrived on both.  Cassandra's conversations were always frothy with excitement about her best reviews, her next tour date, and any really famous stars she'd seen, dined or attended parties with.  Everything was all about her, but that was their little Diva; she'd always focused on the path her life was taking. Although Cassandra didn't know it, with luck it might be her staid and settled parents with the biggest surprise when next they spoke.

***************


CHAPTER 5

Over dinner Esteban and Gloria Kokomo finally reached an agreement.  They would try!  They'd compose and send in their essay and all the snapshots necessary to enter the Island Paradise Giveaway!

They would dare to take a chance, dare to dream of winning the grand prize that would relocate them from the too short summers and too long winters of Aurora Skies to a tropical island paradise!

Gloria mentally began a preliminary sift through the organizational steps that would be necessary if they actually got to move.  She had never worked outside their home for pay, but she had a sharp, logical mind and her Esteban was a hard worker; so they were good together.  They'd raised three children, sent them to boarding schools, paid off their mortgage, and still regularly gave to charitable causes such as the local Homeless Shelter.
Through it all Gloria had seen to it that they’d lived well but with common sense.  From long practice, Esteban trusted her guiding hand, and in Gloria's mind they were a winning team whether they won this contest or not.
But if they won, oh Watcher if they actually won, they would do this; they could absolutely do this!  They would pack up and leave Aurora Skies, the hail, the icy rains, and months of  snow behind them!

******************


CHAPTER 6

Esteban didn't know it yet, but it actually turned out that it was a good thing he had been so distracted that she'd taken over the gardening. She'd hesitantly planted the strange little seed he'd brought home from one of his nostalgic walks outside the cemetery gates.  To her surprise it had actually taken root and sprouted!

Soon it had grown  up to her knees; then when it was above her head, its tightly curled buds unfurled overnight  into an unbelievably fluffy cloud of colorful leaves!  Whooping with delight she'd dragged Esteban into the garden to see this wonder.


Even though Esteban had no idea what type of tree it was, Gloria did not care; it was the first time she had planted and nurtured something to actually grew.  She continued to talk to it, telling it that her husband had promised one day soon they would have to take a few of its beautiful leaves to the science research doctors and find out its true name.  However, to her it would always be her little Fiesta tree. She greeted the tree good morning, and she often told it good night.  As she watered it and fed it she told it how tall it was growing and how beautiful it was; the tree silently listened.

Gloria kept watering, talking, and fertilizing it for its abundance of colors; but one day, to her surprise, she went to water it and found that  it had fruited!  She could not believe her eyes at first, but finally recognized small bags of  simoleons were nestled here and there among the leaves. Gloria had always thought money trees were a fable, but they actually existed; they were real and the Kokomos had one for their very own!


Gloria  harvested the sturdy little tree faithfully and tended it lovingly, it was obviously rare and she did not know how long lived it might be.  Before it went barren she hoped that it would produce seed she could possibly plant here or even perhaps take with them to their hoped for new home.

Ever practical, Gloria had decided that even if they did not win the contest, she'd still be content to harvest and save seeds from the little Fiesta tree for her grands future security.  Esteban had always been the gardener in the family, but her success with the Fiesta tree had her thinking of taking a gardening class at the science building.  Perhaps she could eventually become proficient enough to earn a certificate!

She smiled to herself as she imagined how surprised her Esteban would be when she told him everything. She had just added up all their savings, some of which he did not yet know about.  Since he began his retirement, between saving and harvesting the Fiesta tree she had already managed to add $16,500 simoleons to their household account!



"It does what?  You saved what?" Esteban exclaimed.  Gloria had placed on the floor before him, just three bags of the simoleons which the little Fiesta tree had produced so far.

Gloria smiled broadly and told him that as near as she could figure, if they budgeted moving expenses carefully, and after selling their current home, they would have a nice nest egg.  It should prove adequate to fund the fresh start he longed for.  Whether they won the grand prize or not, his dream was still possible.

" Gloria, my Gloria! This is  marvelous!  We have a veritable fortune!" Esteban shouted excitedly, first grabbing both her hands, then grabbing her by the waist and twirling them both round and around in dizzying circles.


Soon her head was spinning and she rested her hands on his shoulders, holding on firmly.


Esteban smiled at her happily, lovingly.  Her husband was still quite a  man; strong and healthy, his arms and shoulders still corded with muscle.

He'd lifted her with no problem, though admittedly she was several pounds heavier than she was three children ago.

At last he set her on her feet.  "Ahhh," he breathed contentedly.  "My Gloria, having the nerve to ask you to marry me, to dare to ask you to take a chance on me, a poor tombstone engraver who had nothing to offer but his heart, was the best thing, the bravest thing I have ever done."


Gloria blushed.  Esteban began to softly hum the melody to the wedding song he'd chosen to be played for their first dance as husband and wife, "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?"

He then darkened the room lights and turned on the stereo.


Click the link below to hear Gloria and Esteban's Wedding Song :)


When he reached out to embrace her, she eagerly stepped into his arms. They kissed softly and swayed to the love song whose words were still playing in their hearts after all these years.

Finally the song ended.  They just stood still, holding each other for a long moment, contented; and smiling into each others eyes.

*********************


CHAPTER 7


Esteban and Gloria  no longer owned own a personal computer.  The children, one by one, had each taken a computers with them as they left.  Communication these days was mostly done by smart phone.

The library however had a desktop computer that could be used.  Esteban and Gloria would use the library computer to  post their entry, essay, and the required family photos.

Trips to the library would also give them an excuse to take leisurely walks together before the grip of winter firmly took hold.  They could search the shelves for info on tropical flora and fauna.  They would not rely on the contest alone, looking forward to using the computer to narrow down likely neighborhoods and types of houses they might be able to afford on their own.  They would also need to research and gather statistics regarding the cost of living on Island Paradise and the possibility of part-time jobs if necessary.

Combing the library would not only be informative, but a way to pass the time together while they waited for the Isla Paradiso contest finalists to be announced.  It was all very thrilling to dare to break out of their routine, and clear cobwebs from their retirement years!  They had many things they could do to get ready, just in case; just in case they were the lucky, lucky, luckiest ones!





Hearts and minds attuned . . .




Esteban and Gloria Kokomo . . .






moved towards each other in the romantically dim room light.



Closer,
 . . . and closer,






. . .and closer still.











They had not felt such a rush of excitement and anticipation . . .



 . . . since they had first realized they were going to become parents!




 Their lips met with a passion that soon forced them to gasp for breath. 


 And for a long moment they stood just blinking at each other in wide eyed surprise.



Come what may,
Esteban and Gloria Kokomo agreed on one thing: 
it felt good once again to be sharing
 a single dream . . . together.

************************************
Click the link below to hear the song that inspired Esteban Kokomo and his story :)












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