Page 4 of Succeeding Love

One year later….

“Hey, mom,” Preston came into the kitchen behind me, swinging his keys around his finger. Kevin was leaping excitedly around him.

“Hey, sweetie. Where’s your sister?”

Preston grimaced. “Dad came to get her.”

“Again?” I turned off the water, wiping my hands dry on a tea towel after doing the dishes from dinner prep. “He’s gotten her three times this week.”

“I know,” Preston said, not looking happy. “He said he’ll bring her home after shopping for something like that.”

“Shopping? Did you not get an invite?”

He shrugged.

I gave him a half-hearted look of disapproval. “You can’t snub your dad forever. He is trying.”

“Trying to be a pain in the ass,” Preston muttered.

“Hey!”

“Butt. I said butt,” he smiled teasingly.

“Uh, huh? Sure you did.”

I grabbed the leash for Kevin. Jessie usually took him on his afternoon walk with me, but over the past few weeks, I’m doing these walks alone more than with her. Nick has been picking her up from school a lot. It’s never been for long. They get ice cream, or he’ll offer to take her to her dance lessons, or small shopping trips. He insisted on weekends in the divorce, which was completed six months ago, but has been spending the weekend here more. He kept talking me into letting him stay in the guest bedroom Friday and Saturday nights.

He says it’s to get out of the city since his and Arlene’s place isn’t comfortable for the kids, but I think he and Arlene are having trouble. That’s none of my business, so I haven’t asked. To avoid misunderstandings so I don’t get dragged into their problems, on the few weekends he’s stayed here, I’ve gone to my sister’s, that way he and the kids can have the house comfortably all weekend without my presence making things awkward for anyone.

He’s tried to tell me to stay, that he didn’t want to put me out, telling me it was my house, but I took it as an opportunity for him and Preston to repair their fragile relationship while I caught up with my sister, helping her with her young ones to give her a break. If I’m there, Preston gets defensive for me and is always looking for a fight. When I’m gone, he tolerates his father more. Since Preston refuses completely to go to his dad’s apartment now that he is sixteen and fully licensed to drive on his own, trapping him at home with his dad is the only way to get him to talk to Nick.

Kevin and I do our lap around the neighborhood, waving at the neighbors in their driveways and the ones driving by. It’sanother beautiful day. You always have to focus on the beauty of each day.

“Hey, Feighlynn! My elderly neighbor, Velma Trude, flagged me down as I walked past.

There was a small Uhaul in her driveway. I looked at it curiously. “Hey, Mrs. Velma. Are you going somewhere?”

“Oh, goodness no,” she waved her hands dismissively towards the truck. “No, no, no. I plan on closing my eyes for the last time in this house. That’s not for me, but for my son.”

“Your son!?” I could sense her excitement.

“Oh, yes. Kevin just moved back to the US from Germany. He’s retired from the military and is going to stay here while he, oh, what’s that word? Transitions? I forgot how he said it, but he’s living with me now! He had to spend the last six months at some fort in the east, but now he’s here!” She said excitedly.

I pressed my lips together, amused at her son’s name. I knew she had a son in the army, but never knew his first name. She just calls him her son the few times he has come up. The old picture of him from when he first enlisted she keeps on her mantle just has ‘TRUDE’ written on his name tag, and I never thought to ask.

Velma was getting a little confused more days than not now, and I’ve tried stopping in to check on her every time I go to get the mail, but she never mentioned her son moving in.

“I’m so excited for you!” I said, matching her excitement. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Oh, you can meet him now. Kevin!”

My Kevin whined and perked up, shifting back and forth between his feet in response. “I think something is wrong with your dog, dear,” Velma watched him.

“Maybe,” I pressed my lips together to hold in my laugh.

Heavy footsteps echoed from upstairs, and seconds later a big, militant looking man, with faded brown hair and the beginnings of a bread appeared from behind Velma.

He was tall. Really tall. He had to be over six feet. He entirely filled up the doorway. I’m a short five foot three inches, and I felt like I was going to snap my neck looking up at him.

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