Succeeding Love

Ducks

“Where’d all the baby ducks go?” I observed the river as we walked hand-in-hand through the Riverwalk trail.

“It’s late. They’re probably sleeping somewhere,” he pulled against my hand, pulling me against his frame and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

The height difference made me fit perfectly into his side. I felt my face heat at the protective way he was shielding me from the people passing in the busy crowd. Even after the past few hours in the hotel, I’m still getting those frustrating butterflies at his slightest touch.

“Where do you want to eat?” He grinned down at me, those green eyes of his catching the gleam from the lights strung up all around. “Tacos again?”

“No,” I laughed. “Mexican food for dinner two nights in a row?”

“Plus, we had it for lunch,” he leaned down to whisper in my ear, “and I ate taco after that, too.”

My face had to have turned bright red. I giggled at his dirty joke. “You can’t say that!”

“Why not?” he chuckled. “It’s true. I plan on going back for seconds later.”

Well, crap. There goes my new pair of undies.

The path got narrower, and Vin had me walking in front of him with both arms around me to guide me. I think he was looking out for me to keep me from falling in. I kept stumbling around as we laughed and teased each other. The stone pathway trips you up if you aren’t paying attention.

We passed a corner of the Riverwalk with a couple of tightly packed restaurants. I was lost in Vin, staring back at him, trusting him completely to guide me as I laughed at another crude joke. That was when I heard a chorus of voices yelling out, “Miss Micheals!” all at once.

I looked around frantically, confused when I heard my last name.

“There,” Vin pointed at the restaurant we just passed.

There were about two dozen teenage boys leaning over the railing on the patio of a restaurant, yelling for me. My son was at the center of them. Preston almost looked smug looking down at us.

“Come on, Preston’s mom,” one boy yelled. “Come eat with us!”

I looked at the name of the restaurant and laughed. ‘Dicks’ was not what I had in mind. At least….not for a restaurant….

“What do you say?” Vin smirked. “Does dick sound good?”

“Quit,” I slapped his chest.

“I meant the restaurant,” he husked in my ear. “What were you thinking?”

I bit my lip, knowing my blush would not fade soon.

“Come on, mom!” Preston yelled. “We’ve got two extra seats!”

Lord, I can not believe that I’m going to be eating at a restaurant called ‘Dicks’ with my son and the man I just spent the better part of the afternoon showing my naked mole rat to. This ought to be fun.

~

Vin

“Pop a squat, Trude,” Coach Cabrera slapped his hand down on the empty seat beside him.

I tried not to laugh at the ridiculous paper hat he was wearing on his head. Most of the kids had on the crudely made paper hats, all with different offenses written on them. BED WETTER, BOOGER MUNCHER, I SUCK MY THUMB , were just some things written on the front of the hats. Coach Cabrera’s hat said OLD FART. The coach sitting beside him, Anderson, I think his name was, didn’t have on a hat. I guess he wasn’t as good of a sport as his boss.

“I like your hat,” Lynn giggled, pressing her lips together as her eyes smiled adorably.

“Thanks. I think we need to get y’all some too,” Coach Cabrera started snapping his fingers for a server.

“You’re going to love this, mom,” Preston said loudly to her, talking over the noise of his friends. He had on a hat that said MAMA’s BOY. “They have to be rude to you.”

I laughed, catching that from when we came in. The host asked “what do you want?” Then just pointed to the door leading out, waving his hand like he didn’t have the time or care to lead us here. Even the door was labeled push, even though we had to pull it to get outside. Lynn looked fucking adorable, trying to force it to open the wrong way.

The server, a college age girl smacking away loudly on a piece of gum, walked over with a bored expression. “What do you want now?” She grumbled.

“Hats! Hats! Give ‘em hats!” One boy yelled loudly.

The server curled her lips in distaste. “I’m busy.”

“Let me do it!” Another boy yelled, his hat saying COOTIE KING. He got up like he was about to walk to a stack of paper sitting on a counter not far away.

“Eww, no. Keep your cooties to yourself.” With one last eye roll, she walked over to the pile of paper and started writing on two large sheets aggressively with a sharpie.

“Where’s your hat?” Lynn asked the assistant coach.

He had a bored, irritated expression, but perked up as she spoke. It irritated the shit out of me.

“I, uh, guess I got overlooked.”

“Nuh, uh. You said the hats were stupid,” the teen sitting next to Preston said with a small smile.

The assistant coach’s face turned sour again.

“Aw, I think it’s fun. You should get one,” Lynn laughed softly, adjusting the hat on her son’s head. Preston was totally a mama’s boy. He looked proud even while his friends started to snicker and tease him.

“Maybe I will,” Anderson murmured, looking back at the server. “Hey, um, can I get one of those too?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but got another sheet of paper ready.

The assistant coach smirked until he saw my arm slip around the back of Lynn’s chair. He was smitten. Anyone could tell, which I suspect was what most of the boys were snickering and whispering about now. Even Coach Cabrera looked amused.

He can have a crush, but I’m not giving him an in. I spent all afternoon making her scream she belongs to me. Those weren’t empty words. She’s mine.

The server walked back over, three tall paper hats in hand. One said MILF , which obviously went to Lynn. Preston looked mortified, which had even me laughing.

The other two hats were obviously for me and the shithead assistant coach. One said MUSCLES FOR brAINS , and the other said I’M WITH STUPID with an arrow pointing down.

Anderson reached for the muscle one, but the server snatched it out of his reach with a disgusted grimace. “It says muscles, not flab,” she sneered, then placed the muscle hat on me and the stupid one on him.

“It fits you so well,” Lynn giggled, staring at me.

“Yours does too,” I smirked, then leaned in and whispered in her ear, “but only I get to do that to you.”

“Stop,” she hissed, her cheeks burning with timidity.

“Sorry. I got muscles for brains,” I pressed my lips to her ear, relishing the way her body leaned into mine. I had almost forgotten that there were kids around. For a second, it was like we were lost in our own little world.

“Gross. Can you both not?” Preston grumbled.

“Oops,” Lynn giggled, leaning away slightly. I didn’t move away from her, though. I was still leaning over her chair, even knowing her son was watching.

He wasn’t the only one watching. A very grumpy coach with a stupid hat was watching my exchange with my girl with a disgruntled face.

“Sorry,” I looked at Preston, my expression not showing any remorse at all. “I was just telling her I liked her hat.”

“Sure you were. Then maybe you should switch.”

I laughed, but complied, switching Lynn’s hat with mine. “I’ve always wanted to be a MILF.”

“You’re dating one,” Preston’s friend said, right before Preston punched him in the shoulder.

“How long have you two been dating?” Anderson asked, looking so awkward with the paper hat.

“A few weeks now,” I looked at Lynn. “I asked her out the second I knew she was single.”

“You asked me out after eating my lasagna,” she laughed. “It was the food that pulled you in.”

“No, your cooking is a bonus.” I smirked. “It was your laugh that got me.”

“My laugh?!” She looked more than flattered. “No. I know it was my lasagna.”

“That was probably the best lasagna I’ve ever had,” I grinned.

“Now you got me craving lasagna,” Coach Cabrera slapped his hand down on the menu right when the server came.

“Uh, we don’t serve that here, old fart. How about a spit burger instead?”

After the server took Lynn’s order, she excused herself to the bathroom to wash her hands. I was laughing with my old coach as the server and another server messed with every one of the kids. That was when Preston moved down to his mother’s seat, and I knew he had something to say.

I looked at him expectantly, a friendly smile on my face as he kind of sized me up. I still had my hand on the back of Lynn’s chair, which was the last thing he started at.

I rested my hand on his shoulder, since it was just a few inches away now anyway, and asked, “Got something on your mind?” My tone was light, but I was nervous as heck. He was his mother’s protector. If I pissed him off or got on the wrong foot with him, it would be detrimental to my relationship with his mother. That was something I wasn’t willing to bet on. I wouldn’t lose the first great thing to happen to me in so, so long. I don’t think I did anything to set the kid off yet, but his stare still made me nervous.

“You really like my mom?” He finally asked.

I felt like I was sitting on fucking pins. I had to work extra hard to keep from moving around in my seat. He was sixteen, but the boy had a stare that would shake a hardened criminal. He’s been the man of his house since his father left, and it shows.

“I like your mother a lot,” I answered honestly. “She’s an amazing woman.”

“I know she is,” he said confidently. “She’s the kindest person in the world, which is why she still puts up with my dad’s bull shit the way she does. She’s been played and hurt enough, so if you are not serious about her-”

“Let me stop you right there,” I squeezed his shoulder. “Preston, I’m so fucking serious about your mother, you wouldn’t even believe. I’ve been where your mom is at. Exactly where your mom is at, only I never had kids. I know what you are worried about, I promise you, I’m never going to play with her. Not like you’re worried about.” I smirked, then added, “We had an awesome water gun fight in your pool last night, though.”

He looked shocked for a minute, then laughed dryly. “Really? Mom got you to have a water gun fight with her?”

“Oh, I brought the water guns. She just supplied the water.”

“Huh,” he laughed, his serious expression melting away. “I bet mom loved that.”

“Loved what?” She asked, just coming back out and hearing the tail end of the conversation.

“You had a water gun fight last night?” Preston got up from his mother’s chair and helped her push it in after she sat back down.

“Oh, yeah!” The cutest smile broke on her face. “I totally won!”

“You think you did?” I chuckled. I know I was the real winner. I got her.

~

Nick

“We’re home!” Jessie sang out as I unlocked the condo door.

Flying for the day only had us traveling light. I only had my keys and wallet, and she had a small backpack. It was a quick and easy flight back. Not baggage checks or claims, and nothing to lug around.

Why do I feel so much weight on my shoulders then?

Ever since we left the game, I’ve felt like complete garbage. The way Fay looked at me…..

My heart sinks in my chest just thinking about it now.

“Can we order more pizza, daddy?” Jessie asked, skipping around boxes to head to her room.

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll make the call.”

She stopped her prancing and stared at me as I opened the cabinet and brought down the bottle of Johnnie Walker and poured myself a glass. I’ve been trying to hide my mood, but coming into this condo that I was hoping to share with her mother after being so Fay was so hostile to me was what tipped me out of my facade.

“Daddy?” Jessie walked hesitantly over to me. “Are you mad?”

She asked me in the car several times on the way to the airport, asking if I was mad at her for thinking some flowers Fay received were from me and not that tattooed asshole she was with.

I was pissed, but it wasn’t at Jessie. I was mad at myself.

“I’m not, baby girl. I’m just tired.” I hugged her to my side.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I picked up a lingering scent of her mother’s perfume on her. A choking sob almost broke free, but I swallowed it down.

“Daddy?”

“I’m fine,” I forced a smile. “Really. Why don’t you see if you can get a head start on Preston’s room? He’ll be here tomorrow. I’ll come help after ordering the pizza.”

“Okay,” she said meekly. I knew she was still worried, but I didn’t know how to put on a better act than I already was.

I felt miserable. I knew it was a long shot, but I still wanted Fay to come back with me. She’s doing who knows what with that ballerina jerk right now.

As I pulled out my phone, I stared at my call log screen, scanning over all the red lines from ignored calls, mostly Arlene’s, telling myself that I was looking for the number for the pizza place.

I knew who I was really looking for, though. When I saw her name appear, my finger hesitated over the call button.

That sinking feeling in my chest was too hard to ignore. I pressed call. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor when a male voice answered.

“Hello?”

It was him. Why the hell did he have my wife’s phone?

“Hello? Hey, is this Nick?” he snickered loudly on the other end of the line.

Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, another familiar voice came through.

“It’s my dad? Let me have it. Go help mom. She’s going to fall in, trying to feed the ducks.”

He was with Preston…

“Hey, dad. Sorry. Mom left her bag here on the patio of the restaurant while she ran off to feed duck french fries. Do you need something?”

I was stunned for a moment, but then found my voice. “Um, yeah. Hi, Pres. I just…. I just wanted to let your mom know we got back safe.”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, holding my hand over my eyes like I could hold in my tears. “Um, Preston?”

“Yeah, dad?” He sounded distracted.

I took a shuddering breath, then said, “I… I love you, son. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I love you too, dad. Bye.”

CLICK

My hand fell to the floor as the line went dead.

My wife and my son. That man… He was winning over everything I had lost in this divorce. I have never felt more defeated in my entire life.