Cradle of Conflict: John Ross Boomer Lit Series

By Michael Embry

With their son, Brody, John and Sally Ross await the arrival of a new grandchild with anxious anticipation as his girlfriend Ashley goes into premature labor.

But tragedy strikes and what should have been a celebration of life turns into a toxic conflict between the Rosses and Ashley's family over the newborn granddaughter.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781590880920

Michael Embry

Michael Embry is the author of eight novels, three nonfiction sports books and a short-story collection. He was a reporter, sportswriter and editor for more than 30 years. He's now a full-time novelist. He lives in Frankfort, Ky., with his wife, Mary, and two Chorkies, Bailey and Belle.

Book preview

Cradle of Conflict

John was jarred from his idleness by banging on the front door, triggering Whiskers to bark while dashing to the living room. John glanced through the peephole and quickly opened the door. He heard Geraldine’s cane striking in the background. Moments later, Sally stood next to her, craning her neck, clutching a robe against her chest.

His son Brody stepped inside the house wearing a blue University of Kentucky sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, holding the hand of his very pregnant girlfriend, Ashley. She stood there in slip-on athletic shoes, her belly protruding in a long pink gown and heavy bathrobe.

She’s having labor pains, Brody said, worry etched on his fatigued face. We’re not sure what to do.

Sally hurried to Ashley, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. How far apart are the contractions? Sally asked as they sat next to each other.

About every ten minutes or so, Ashley said with a pained expression.

"How long has it been going on?’

Maybe a couple hours.

Have you called your doctor?

Dr. Palmer said to wait until they’re five minutes apart. Ashley wiped away tears. But I hurt. Something doesn’t seem right.

Cradle of Conflict

Michael Embry

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Boomer Lit Novel

Wings ePress, Inc.

Edited by: Jeanne Smith

Copy Edited by: Bev Haynes

Executive Editor: Jeanne Smith

Cover Artist: Trisha FitzGerald-Jung

All rights reserved

NAMES, CHARACTERS AND incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Wings ePress Books

www.wingsepress.com

Copyright © 2023 by: Michael Embry

ISBN 978-1-59088-585-7

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress, Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS 67114

Dedication

For Bailey (2012-2022)

He brightened the lives of my wife and me with his gentle disposition and unconditional love.

Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really.

—Agnes Turnbull (1888-1982), American writer

In Memoriam

Frederick Meade Rick Bailey (1945-2021)

Lexington, KY

James Duane Bolin (1955-2022)

Murray, KY

June E. Bradshaw (1930-2022)

Leitchfield, KY

Sheila M. Carwile (1956-2022)

English, IN

Richard A. Embry (1949-2022)

Wallingford, PA

Bobby Flynn (1927-2022)

Lexington, KY

Delma Francis (1954-2022)

New Hope, MN

Jack Funk (1948-2022)

Bardstown, KY

Eric F. James (1943-2023)

Danville, KY

Timothy M. Kelly (1947-2021)

Lexington, KY

Joan K. Klein (1940-2023)

Richmond, KY

Steven D. Lutz (1966-2023)

Henderson, KY

William F.Billy Reed (1943-2022)

Louisville, KY

Mary A. Troedel (1933-2022)

Frankfort, KY

Christine Wilcher Wilbert (1947-2022)

Bloomington, IN

Richard G. Wilson (1937-2023)

Frankfort, KY

One

John rolled over in bed and put his arm around Sally’s waist. She moaned softly and eased closer to him. They lay silently in the darkness for several minutes. John softly kissed her slender neck and backed away, planting his feet quietly on the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. He glanced at the illuminated digital clock on the nightstand that glowed four-thirty-two in thin red numbers.

John found the pants he had tossed on the dresser before going to bed, pulled out a T-shirt from the drawer, and slipped on house shoes next to the bed. He stood outside the bedroom to put on the clothes, not wanting to disturb Sally.

Whiskers, his forever friend, must have heard his movements as he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, tail wagging. John bent and gently ruffled the doggie’s furry mane for a few seconds.

Ready to go potty? he asked Whiskers, opening the front door. The dog darted to the side of the house and disappeared as if he couldn’t hold it any longer. And probably couldn’t.

John stood on the porch, feeling a slight shiver in the crisp March air as he waited for Whiskers to return. It was too early for the newspaper to arrive, something that seemed to get later each month as the paper grew thinner. It had been more than two years since he’d retired as sports editor.

He remembered arriving at the newspaper in the early hours to prepare for another edition, and staying until the final product rolled off the presses before calling it a day and heading home, only to go through the same routine the next day and every day after that in what seemed like an endless loop. He smiled to himself, thinking that was something he no longer missed, even though he was still an early riser. The mornings belonged to him, something he savored and treasured. No more deadlines. No more meetings. No more office politics. Simply me time.

The street was relatively quiet. A few porch lights were on at the darkened homes. A car moved slowly down the street, perhaps someone heading to an early work shift. Or maybe someone canvassing the street to steal items left in front yards. Even the neighborhood wasn’t what it used to be. It was thought to be a good place to live and raise a family when he and Sally bought their modest tri-level many years ago.

John snapped out of his break down memory lane and clapped his hands lightly several times. Whiskers bounded from the corner of the house and ran up to him. John patted the top of the pooch’s shaggy head and opened the door. Whiskers licked his hand several times before they entered the house.

Let’s get something to eat, little buddy, John said as he followed the hungry pet to the kitchen. He filled the bowls with kibble and water, then went to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. Whiskers wasted little time munching down his food and taking a few laps of water, then disappearing to his pad in the downstairs den, leaving John alone at the bar.

Unsure when the paper would arrive, John thought about going back to the bedroom and getting his smartphone to see the newspaper’s website. He decided not to disturb Sally from her slumber. He could go to the den and turn on the television but that might wake up Geraldine, his mother-in-law, who was a light sleeper. He wasn’t ready for that. She’d probably be up soon enough, her cane tapping on the floor heralding her presence. He preferred quiet and solitude for as long as possible, clutching his warm cup and taking a sip of coffee in the somber silence.

John was jarred from his idleness by banging on the front door, triggering Whiskers to bark while dashing to the living room. John glanced through the peep hole and quickly opened the door. He heard Geraldine’s cane striking in the background. Moments later, Sally stood next to her, craning her neck, clutching a robe against her chest.

His son Brody stepped inside the house wearing a blue University of Kentucky sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, holding the hand of his very pregnant girlfriend, Ashley. She stood there in slip-on athletic shoes, her belly protruding in a long pink gown and heavy bathrobe.

She’s having labor pains, Brody said, worry etched on his fatigued face. We’re not sure what to do.

Sally hurried to Ashley, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. How far apart are the contractions? Sally asked as they sat next to each other.

About every ten minutes or so, Ashley said with a pained expression.

"How long has it been going on?’

Maybe a couple hours.

Have you called your doctor?

Dr. Palmer said to wait until they’re five minutes apart. Ashley wiped away tears. But I hurt. Something doesn’t seem right.

Nothing feels right about having a baby, Geraldine chimed in as she sat on the easy chair across from the couch. You ain’t seen nothing yet, girl. Pretty soon it’ll feel like you’re passing a watermelon.

Mother, please, Sally said, her brows furrowed.

Well, it’s the truth.

Sally turned toward Ashley. Anything else?

I had some blood.

What?

I saw it after I talked to the doctor.

We’re taking you to the hospital now, Sally said in a controlled voice. She looked at Brody. Call the doctor and let her know you’re on the way.

Brody pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed the number. He informed the doctor’s answering service of Ashley’s condition.

Let me get dressed, Sally said, rising from the couch. It won’t take a minute.

Brody sat next to Ashley, placing a hand on her lower back, rubbing gently.

That blood doesn’t sound good, Geraldine said, breaking the momentary silence in the room. Thank god that never happened to me.

John closed his eyes and shook his head. Everything’s going to be fine, he said softly to Brody and Ashley.

Sally returned, wearing gray jogging pants, a lavender sweatshirt and pink running shoes she had worn the previous day when she and John had walked to Shipley Park, a popular neighborhood destination. She grabbed a light windbreaker from the closet next to the front door. Let’s go, she said without looking at anyone.

Brody stood and helped Ashley up from the couch and they followed Sally out the front door.

I’ll be here with your grandmother, John said to his son, holding open the storm door. I’ll be over at the hospital as soon as I can. Keep me posted.

Brody nodded with an unsettled look, his mouth closed tightly. He held Ashley’s hand as they walked slowly to his car and opened the passenger door for her while Sally went to the back seat. Brody glanced back at John, got into the vehicle, and drove down the shadowy street.

John went to the kitchen where Geraldine was already seated at the bar. He poured her a cup of coffee and sat across from her.

Do we have any pastries? she asked.

Huh? What? John said with a baffled look.

It is time for breakfast.

No, we don’t have any pastries, Geraldine.

Can you go get some?

Can you wait a bit? I don’t want to leave the house until I hear back from Sally or Brody.

That could take several hours.

I don’t care, he said with a measure of irritation. Be patient. Eat some toast.

Well, just be that way, Geraldine said, scrunching her nose. She’s not the first person to have a baby.

I don’t see your point. John walked over and poured another cup of coffee.

Men just don’t understand.

"If this happened to Sally, would you be saying the same thing?

Geraldine face reddened. No, she said meekly. But she’s my daughter.

And Ashley is about to give you a great-grandchild.

I know.

Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

I guess it does, since you put it that way. I almost forgot that.

"Then let’s wait until we hear back from them. Okay?’

Okay.

Thank you.

Uh, will you go get some pastries then?

John held his breath for several seconds and let it out slowly. Of course, Geraldine.

Thank you, John.

Two

Thirty minutes later , John convinced Geraldine it would be wise to go ahead and eat breakfast. She was unhappy with the advice, but after a few minutes, relented and allowed John to make her toast and jelly. However, he promised to pick up some pastries when he was out for the next morning. That brought a tiny smile to her fussy face.

His phone rang as he was about to butter her toast. He handed the plate to her and answered the call. It was from Sally. Geraldine gave him a hard stare.

What? he mouthed silently to her.

Jelly, she said slowly.

John sighed, got the jelly from the refrigerator and handed it to her. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to spread it on the toast. He turned his back to her to let her know the queen had to do it this time.

Are you still here? Sally asked.

Sorry, he said. I got distracted by your mother for a moment. So, how’s Ashley?

She’s doing better, Sally said. Her doctor says it was false labor.

Really? Even the blood?

She’s going to keep her in the hospital for observation, but said it wasn’t that uncommon on a first pregnancy. Besides, her contractions have stopped.

How about Brody? How is he handling it all?

He’s been at her side the entire time, Sally said. It’s so sweet. I know they’re both worn out, but they seem less stressed after talking to the doctor. They both need some rest.

Has anyone notified her parents?

Brody talked to them briefly after the doctor left. I believe her mother may be driving in from Louisville to be with her.

"Are you coming home soon?

I’m going to stay here for a while, she said. I may go down to the cafeteria and get a coffee and pastry.

Don’t mention that word around here when you get back.

Coffee?

No, the other word.

Oh. Sally laughed. Mother does love her pastries.

John glanced at Geraldine with a forced smile. She was wiping crumbs off her chenille robe. Keep me posted if anything else happens. And let me know if I need to pick you up.

I will, honey.

After ending the call, John gave Geraldine an update on Ashley’s condition. Then she asked for another two slices of toast. You must be hungry, he said.

John put in two slices of bread in the toaster, lightly drumming his fingers on the counter while waiting for the toast to pop up.

A person could starve around here, Geraldine said.

Let’s not get carried away, he said, grinning, as he placed the toast on the plate in front of her. I don’t think you’ve ever gone hungry living here.

Maybe not, but it gets a little boring. She began buttering her toast while John warmed his coffee.

The food selection? he asked.

Everything.

John sat across from her at the counter. What’s the matter, Geraldine? Is something on your mind?

She took a small bite from her toast and chewed it slowly. I’m just getting tired of sitting around the house all the time.

You’re getting restless?

You could say that, she said. Maybe I should move back to Arizona. At least there were activities I could do to keep me busy.

I could take you to the senior citizens’ center, John said. That wouldn’t be a problem.

That’s too much trouble, she said. Besides, I’m not sure I want to be around all those old people.

John crinkled his brows. Oh.

Plus, I don’t know any of them.

You would after a while. It takes time.

I don’t have that much time.

Maybe move to a similar retirement village here in Lexington?

I never thought about that. A smile brightened her lined face.

Should we look into it?

Let me think about it, she said. Maybe we can discuss it with Sally and see what she thinks.

You know they’re expensive.

Are you worried about me spending the inheritance?

You know better than that, John said. It’s your money to do as you wish.

Thank you for your consent, John.

There you go again. John shook his head. You know I don’t mean it that way. Sally and I will support whatever you choose to do. And you know you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. There are no time limits. We’re family.

Geraldine pushed her plate with one piece of toast and the other half eaten aside. I think I’m full. Conversation over. She grabbed her cane and headed toward the den. Less than a minute later, the recliner squeaked and the TV came to life as she got settled in, likely until lunch time.

John cleaned the counter and went to the front door to check for the newspaper. He noticed it at the end of the driveway, almost under the rear of his car. When he cracked open the door, Whiskers was there and made a beeline to the side of the house. John knew he’d be going there soon with a pooper-scooper.

After picking up the newspaper, John waited on the porch for Whiskers to finish his business. He opened the paper but didn’t see any headlines shouting for his attention. Whiskers took his time coming back, sniffing and leaving his mark on several bushes along the way.

Whiskers went to his water bowl, took several sips, then returned to his pad in the den, despite the noisy chatter from the TV. John topped off his cup of coffee, sat at the counter, and glanced at the newspaper. As usual, his second stop after the front page, was the obituary section. He scanned the page and felt a small sense of relief that he didn’t recognize any of the names. That was becoming his idea of good news.

John noticed it was going on ten o’clock. He felt restrained by how much time had passed since Sally had left with Brody and Ashley. He thought about taking Whiskers for a short walk, and maybe even going to the grocery store to pick up a few items, especially pastries for Geraldine. But he sensed that something might happen at the hospital, which would necessitate him going there at a moment’s notice.

Instead, he put his half-empty coffee cup in the sink and went to the living room, where he kicked off his house shoes and lay on the couch, intending to rest his eyes for a few minutes.

Three

John was jolted from his nap when Sally opened the front door. Whiskers barked but quietened after seeing it was Sally. An uneven smile creased her tired face. John blinked several times, rubbed his eyes, rose from the couch and followed her to the kitchen.

How’s Ashley? he asked as he sat at the counter across from her.

No change. She was sound asleep when I left. Both she and Brody are beat. Poor kids. It made me remember how it was for us when Chloe was born.

They’ll get through it, just like we did.

Of course. At least I hope so.

How are you? You must be frazzled as well.

I’m okay. A little tired, but that’s it. Were you sleeping?

Resting my eyes, he said.

Sure. She grinned. Then why didn’t you answer when I called?

You called?

Right before I called Uber.

I left my phone on the counter, he said, pointing to it.

I was only calling to let you know I was leaving the hospital, she said. Anyway, I’m starving. All I’ve had is a cup of coffee. Do we have any pastries?

Are you serious? John asked, raising a brow.

What do you mean?

Never mind. I’ll be running to the grocery store soon to pick up a few things.

Where’s Mother?

The usual spot.

Sally glanced toward the den. Okay. I should have known.

What are your plans today?

I’ll go back to the hospital later in the afternoon. Maybe take a nap before then. That’s about it. She covered her mouth, trying to stifle a yawn.

The clock on the wall read 11:22. They heard the recliner squeak, signaling that Geraldine was pulling it up to an upright position. She would be making her presence known soon, so they sat looking at each other without saying a word. John had thought about oiling the springs on the chair but decided it was a good warning device to alert them when Geraldine was on the move. Surprisingly, Geraldine hadn’t complained about it like she did about most everything she used around the house.

As Geraldine approached the bar, John stood and moved a stool out for her to sit.

Can I get you some more coffee? John asked her.

No, but you can get me something to eat. That toast didn’t stick to my stomach long.

I’ll be going to the store in a few minutes. I’ll get some pastries.

It’s a little late for pastries. How about a pizza?

Sally wanted pastries, John said.

Well, can’t you buy both?

I suppose I can.

Hello, Mother, Sally said with a pressed smile.

How are the soon-to-be parents? Geraldine asked, resting her bony elbows on the bar.

Ashley appears to be doing okay, Sally said. "The doctor says it was

Reviews for Cradle of Conflict

[rtb_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Reviewed by RobinReivew copy provided by Ellora's CaveThis story is filled with plenty of romance; it is thrilling, gripping and a page turner to the end. I was disappointed that it ended. I enjoyed it and wanted to ride along with the Midnight Angel on her quest for revenge. The year is 1770, a time of highwaymen, pirates, smugglers, and redcoats; if you lived in London/Cornwall area that is. It is a time when the proper young ladies were brought out in season, to the ton of London in hopes to find a rich husband. For Karalyn (Kara) Marshall, she was seeking revenge against the redcoats for the rape and suicide of her mother and the killing of her father and infamous highwayman. Kara the mysterious ‘Midnight Angel’…a Robin Hood of her time, steals gold from the redcoats and giving it to those in need in her small hamlet of Cornwell. But on one raid she is challenge with a kiss from a pirate; Adrian, Marquis of Ravenrook. Adrian just as fascinated with Kara, the Midnight Angel, he sets out to win her at first for his bed but later for love. Kara's father, an infamous highwayman, and his wife were murdered in cold blood leaving Kara and her brother to be raised by the town's Reverend. Kara and her brother Robert vow revenge on the men who murdered their parents and devise a scheme to bring about the enemy's demise. That is why Kara dons the disguise as Angel and becomes a masked highwaywoman who along with her other masked bandits, strike at night, robbing the red coats of their gold and leaving one of them with a parting kiss, while her brother buys a commission as a lieutenant in His Majesty's horse dragoons in London, hoping to find clues of their parent's murderer. Stealing a kiss as is customary, from the pirate, she finds that she is just as taken with him as he is with her. Adrian is determined to find the elusive ‘Angel’ following her trail to London. His aunt is there with her niece Kara. Some coincidence, I think not? His aunt knows the truth behind the identity of the Midnight Angel of Bodmin Moor. Soon Adrian will find out as he is not that dumb. He has his demons to deal with from his past and she has hers. Can these two find in each other the chance to love and heal each other from the past? Not wanting to give away more of this captivating story, Midnight Angel of Bodmin Moor captures your interest from the start and keeps you captivated till the satisfying conclusion. As Ms. Mays, takes us from one extraordinary love that of Kara’s parents to the love of Kara and her pirate, Adrian. I loved the secondary characters just as much as I did the main ones. Ms. Mays had a way of bringing them to life and giving or should I say starting their stories never once taking anything away from Kara and Adrian. The mystery that she wove into the love story will keep anyone interested in finding out what will happen next. She did a wonderful job of portraying the vivid images of the characters and the countryside where the mist on the moors tends to swallow Angel and her band of renegades. Ms. Mays also uses the poem, “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes’ to the fullest which adds to the intrigue of the story. I loved this story and highly recommend it. So find yourself a comfortable chair grab a nice glass of wine and enjoy the love story of the Midnight Angel and her Pirate. I can’t wait to read more from Ms. Mays.