Previously in The Murder of Ted…
Ruth gave us the hope we needed, and after following every lead, we finally hired our team.
This week: The battle plan is taking shape, and it’s time to prepare for war.
Thank you for joining me on this unexpected, uncozy adventure.
The Murder of Ted
A Series of Unfortunate Events, an Uncozy Adventure
Chapter Seven: Preparing for Battle
Every good sleuth knows that sometimes the final pieces of the puzzle begin falling into place all at once.
After weeks of searching, researching, interviewing detectives, and trying to figure out which path would lead us to Ted’s downfall, the week had finally arrived.
Things were starting to line up. The military tactics team was being assembled.
Now it was time to prepare for battle. And you thought this was just a murder mystery. Get ready because we just added epic action-adventure to the list!
Somewhere between phone calls, research, and planning, I had lunch with one of my dear author friends, Rena Koontz.
Rena has always called me her firework friend because, apparently, I put that much excitement into everything I do. She isn’t wrong. I had just never thought of it that way.
I often tell people that the world hands you crap almost daily. The trick is finding the glitter. God’s glitter.
Because if you have ever dealt with glitter, you know something important. Once you have it, you are never getting rid of it. It sticks around forever. It shows up in places you never expected, and just when you think it’s finally gone, months later, somehow there it is again.
That is how I think of God’s blessings.
The world can dump all kinds of things on you, but if you look closely enough, there are always little reminders that life is good, and there is a rainbow at the end of the tunnel.
At our lunch, Rena reached into her bag and handed me a tiny tube of pink glitter. Her name was on it.
She looked at me and said, “I will be your glitter, my firework friend.”
That was one of the most meaningful gifts I have ever been given. I will carry it with me always. Rena went on to promise she would sit with me during treatment and make me laugh or hold whatever hair I had left back when a throw up.
Let me tell you, if you have ever helped someone while they were throwing up, you are a true friend. No one wants to see, hear, or smell that!
Ted had no idea how many people he had coming after him.
The dreaded port was weighing on my mind. I don’t know why, but the thought completely creeped me out. I guess I will have to get used to more creepy thoughts on this adventure.
That night I had a terrifying dream.
I was being taken back for the port placement, and my grandmother’s crystal rosary shattered during the procedure.
I woke up shaken. Was it just a dream? It had to be.
But when you are facing cancer, medical procedures, and a villain named Ted, your brain starts adding its own interpretation of the events to the list.
Ted was always lurking in the darkness.
My grandmother’s rosary was special.
It wasn’t just an object. It was a connection to my faith, my family, and the people who had guided me through life.
I already owned my own rosary, but mine was made of metal.
If something happened, it could be repaired.
Before the scheduled Port Placement, my daughter called and arranged something very important. Especially after that dream, an Anointing of the Sick.
Just in case my dream was a warning…
I took my rosary to the priest and asked him to bless it for me after he had anointed me. Because when you are preparing for battle, you take every piece of armor you can find. Even the spiritual kind. I felt a little more at ease about the procedure afterwards, but was still not looking forward to it.
My fur baby Flynn added another layer of worry to an already overwhelming week when he suddenly developed a limp.
He was in so much pain that he would hiss and growl at his own shoulder like something was hitting him. Of course, that meant a trip to the vet.
The vet said it appeared to be muscle pain. He needed steroids and possibly antibiotics, but because Flynn had been diagnosed with PKD back in December, he would need to be checked over the next few weeks.
I cried yet again.
I told the doctor that my daughter would have to take over his care because I was battling Ted.
We changed his contacts over to my daughter so she could resume his care.
It added another layer to the stress of going away. Not because I didn’t trust my daughter to take excellent care of him.
I did, but I am his mother, and I felt like I was ditching him while he was sick.
Port day came, and I told the nurse I was nervous. For some reason, the port felt like an invasion. Maybe it was the idea of permanently adding a new roommate to my body that made me uneasy. She assured me I would be fine. They were giving me a medical cocktail she jokingly called “Twilight Plus.”
The plus stood for all the extras they had to add because of my strong aversion to medical procedures; I required the deluxe package.
She promised I would do just fine.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about who was soon to become yet another roommate. My nurse told me not to worry. She explained it was basically like an arranged marriage. We would grow to love each other during my treatment.
The Twilight Plus did its job. I don’t remember much except feeling the pressure of my new roommate moving in.
I mean, for the first time meeting him, he could have been gentler.
If this was going to be an arranged marriage, he needed a name. I couldn’t just call him “port.” That sounded far too boring for something that was going to help me fight a war.
So, I introduce to you my new roommate, Bionic Buddy.
BB for short.
I am officially a cyborg!
Unfortunately, once the Twilight effects started wearing off, my internal attack team completely freaked out about the new invasion.
They acted like BB had crash-landed from a foreign planet and was there to destroy.
The throbbing pain from his arrival made sure everyone knew a stranger had entered the territory.
I had to remind them to calm down. We needed BB. He was here to help us catch Ted.
Although I have to admit, I would have appreciated a little more kindness from my new roommate. The sharp pains he was causing felt like unnecessary drama for someone who was supposed to be joining my team.
I really hoped the nurse was right about my new Bionic Buddy because, whew, his first impression was a little aggressive.
Meanwhile, Ted stayed surprisingly quiet.
Almost like he knew something much bigger was coming.
And he was right. Because while BB was getting settled in, I was about to call in reinforcements.
The battle was beginning. I would leave for LW’s on Sunday, and Ted was to suffer profusely.
My internal attack team was to go through bootcamp as soon as we arrived at LW’s. He needed my team briefed and up for the tasks. I was put back on a keto diet too. Only 12 carbs! Who eats only 12 carbs?!
Just as fast as my Mangos came back to me, they were snatched away. Plus, I am almost a vegetarian, and this diet requires so much meat and fat. LW says it’s part of my bootcamp training.
Stupid Ted. I was so mad at him. He was packing as much punch as he could, insisting that he could outsmart me. This game of cat and mouse was about to get nasty.
Emotional from the abuse of BB’s crash landing, the lack of delicious vegetables, and the fact that I wasn’t even healed from surgery, I tried to pack my bags for LW
In pain, I couldn’t wrap my head around what I needed to do. I didn’t want to. I prayed to have this burden removed from me. I wanted to close my eyes and have the road behind me. My husband kissed me and reminded me that I was strong and that this, too, shall pass. He wasn’t wrong, but remember that patience thing I have? I wanted it over already.
I cried when the day had come that I needed to leave my friends and family behind.
My St. Bernard Aussie, Paige, must have sensed my distress because she felt the need to climb onto the couch and give me the most wonderful, nasty slobbery kiss, letting me know she was here for me.
I hugged her, my family and my friends, especially Eve, as tight as I could even though BB complained with pain. I didn’t want to let them go. It felt like if I held tight enough, I wouldn’t have to.
Tears filled our faces.
The manhunt had officially begun.
Stay tuned for the next episode of Chapter Eight: The Battle Begins
Need a little escape after all that Ted drama? ☕🔎
Come sleuth with Taryn O’Kelly in my high-stakes cozy mysteries, where the coffee is strong, the humor is salty, and the murders are fluffy.
If you’re looking for a little murder without the gore, a little romance, and a lot of fun, my Taryn O’Kelly Mysteries are waiting for you.
Start the series with Party Planning for Murder.
And don’t forget, the antidote to the uncozy is a cozy mystery.
Until next chapter…
Happy reading.
As always, thanks for stopping by for some Salty Inspirations! -Michelle ❤️
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