Page 83 of Playful Kris

I follow him through the house, glancing around as I head for the backdoor. Nothing has changed a bit since I’ve been gone. Nothing is out of place, the house is spotless.

I can thank Nina for that. She dog sits while I’m away, and often cleans up after me because I’m a slob at times. She gets her paycheck, and it helps keep her from having to have a regular eight to five job.

The cool breeze hits me as I step outside, chill bumps forming on my arms. It’s not nearly as cold as it was near the mountains, but it’s chilly enough for me today.

My mind immediately wanders to Kameron, and the way her skin would pebble when we were together at times. I smile, then immediately drop it.

Why the hell am I constantly thinking about her?

Shaking my head, I bend to grab one of Titan’s tennis balls. His gaze immediately zeros in on my hand, like his spidey sense alerted him the ball was now activated for throw.

“You ready, boy?” I smile at him, and that knub of a tail takes off wiggling. “Go get it.” I grunt as the ball launches into the air and some grass kicks up around Titan’s take off.

He rushes through the yard, trying to meet the ball before it hits the ground, but he comes up short just as the ball hits and bounces high into the air. He follows with what I like to call a tail kick before he snags the ball out of the air and comes running back toward me.

“Good, boy.” I run a hand along his back, taking the ball from him with my other.

The doorbell rings, just as I launch the ball for the second time. I frown to myself, before heading inside to see who it is.

Sliding the door shut behind me, Titan doesn’t even notice I’ve left him alone. He’s too focused on slinging the ball himself. What’s he need me for? I chuckle, moving through the house.

My bags are still sitting by the front door, so I slide them out of the way using my foot and yank the door open. Thank goodness my feet are plants, or I’d probably fall over not expecting to see who is on my front porch.

I know who I wish it could be, but that’ll never happen.

“Mom?” I look behind her, but all I see is a car parked behind my truck with no one else inside. “What are you doing here?”

She must have left the brunch with my brother and drove straight here. Where’s her man?

“I came alone,” she tells me. “Something has been bothering me since our talk last night, and I wanted to see you.” She looks behind me, taking in the house she’s never been to.

She’s asked to visit, but I’ve always said no. I just never saw the point in her coming over, I put the distance between us for a reason.

“I’m tired from my long drive, and the weekend. You should have called first.”

“Kristopher, enough!” Her voice raises an octave and I feel like I’m being scolded as a child again.

I’m not sure if it’s the look on her face, or the weekend I’ve just had, or the fact that I’m already feeling like the biggest piece of shit that walked the Earth… but I move to the side, holding the door open for my mother to come into my home.

She exhales a deep breath, stepping into the foyer and out of the way so I can swing the door shut behind her. I walk further into the house, wanting to check on Titan. I don’t normally leave him outside for long by himself.

“Your place is nice.” She smiles, her eyes glancing around the rooms we move through before she stops next to me staring at my backyard. “That’s a big backyard.”

It is. It’s one of the reasons I chose the house. I wanted somewhere that wouldn’t require me to have to leash Titan to walk him daily, some days it’s just too hard and being able to stand out here and throw a ball with him handles that obstacle for me.

My days at work during baseball season at the college are long and grueling, and walking a dog around the neighborhood after dark isn’t that appealing to me.

“This must be Titan.”

My head snaps her direction, and I’m met with a playful smile.

“Your brother keeps me up to date on your life, sweetheart. You may be closed off, but he isn’t.”

Shit. I should have known.

“Which is why I’m here.” She moves away from the door, heading for my couch and I feel like I have no choice but to follow. “I’m sick of this, son. I want to be a part of your life, I want to talk everything out, and move on from it and be better. I know we talked at the wedding, but I don’t feel like anything was really resolved.”

I shake my head, because it wasn’t. Our conversation only stirred up old emotions. Getting some of it off my chest did feel good, but that’s a lot of baggage I’ve been carrying around for years.

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