They had had this conversation several times before and each time he promised to do better. She was putting her foot down and taking away his game boy to teach him responsibility and the need to keep his word.
Hauling the trash into the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of wine and just sat for a minute. She was tired, but in a good way. Carrie had called the cottage dingy, but it was her space and until she was able to do better, this was home.
She had started fending for herself when she realized she was pregnant and alone. At first she had thrown a hell of a pity party, but that had soon ended. The reality had hit her in the face. She had participated in the act quite willingly, putting her trust in a man who although six years older had no intention of settling down, much less willing to step up and be a father.
She had contemplated getting rid of it, just for one tiny second. She was a member of a Baptist church, and her conscience would have pricked her if she had gone that direction. Having to abandon her dream of doing a big city and going corporate had punched a hole in her, but she had accepted her situation and stepped up.
She was pregnant, was going to be a single mother, one responsible for another human being. Even though the idea of it petrified her, she told herself that she could do it. And she had. Her son was well brought up.
Aside from his predilection to be messy and his often steely determination to have his own way and consider himself as her protector, he was a polite, well adjusted boy with a sweet center and a generous heart. He did not question the fact or even spend a minute bemoaning the lack of a male figure in his life. She had explained the situation to him two years ago and he had accepted it.
She had told him she loved him enough for two people and he believed her. She was his only parent and would continue to put a roof over his head and food in his belly. His clothes might be department store brands, but she made certain they were of good quality.
He was involved in most sports. She also found the time to see to it that his homework got done. He was starting to get to the age that hugging in public was becoming an embarrassment, but in private, he would lavish her with hugs and kisses.
One could not hope for a better kid. If sometimes she regretted that he did not have a father to shoot hoops with or sit in on his games, that was natural. She was after all human. She was also twenty-eight and having a hard time on the dating scene.
As soon as she put the words out that she had a son, the men started to slide away slowly. And she had to admit to herself of course that she got lonely. She yearned for adult conversations. A touch, a lingering kiss.
A man who would look at her and see only her. One who would share the responsibility of raising her son. One who would love her son the way she loved him. Anything less than that was unacceptable. She had no intention of bringing someone in their lives who was abusive.
She was careful that way. She had never brought a man around in their space. Picking up the wine, she indulged herself in dreaming again.
Ideally, she would love to hit the jackpot and be independent. She had dreams of providing for her son in a way he would not feel the lack. If he wanted new tennis shoes, brand name ones, she would be able to afford them. And a new computer for him, instead of a cast off.
Very soon she was going to have to think about college and it scared the crap out of her at the costs of a good education. Tamping down panic, she finished the wine and considered herself rejuvenated enough to tackle the rest of the laundry and do some weeding. The weather was getting cooler, but she had some gardening to do.
*****
Rodney slipped off the gloves and hung them up, his breathing labored. He had been at it for two hours and felt the workout inevery muscle, from neck to the soles of his feet. His clothing was drenched, his heart beating like a drum.
Bracing against the sophisticated treadmill, he gulped in several deep breaths before padding to the fridge to take out a gallon bottle of water. It was downed quickly, soothing his dry throat and making him feel almost human again.
He had overdone it on the cardio machine, not to mention the weights. His arms were stinging from the brutal punishment. Not to mention the fact that his glutes were weeping. Setting the water aside, he went to stand in front of the mirror and stared at himself critically.
He had started doing that a few months ago. Just studying his form. He was tall, six three. He had been lanky in his youth, a source of ribbing from friends. Thankfully, his face had gone from being beautiful to attractive.
His nose had been broken in a fight when he was sixteen and he was proud of the slightly crooked shape. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow and his legs long. His sable brown hair was rich and thick and needed trimming.
His amber eyes were intense giving him a scholarly look, too sober, he thought. Lifting a hand, he touched the scar above his left eye. Another fight when he was eighteen and just leavinghigh school. His grin came as he recalled that this had been about a girl.
And it gave his face character, at least that's what his mother said. Stripping to bare skin, he moved away and stepped into the shower. He loved his own space.
His mother had protested when he decided to move out of the manor as soon as he finished college, but he had stood firm. It was not long after his dad had passed that they opted to turn the place into a fancy all-inclusive hotel with incredible amenities.
Lancashire Palace was going to rival the Hilton and the Wyndham. He had big plans and the reservations were already rolling in. It was not going to be ready until next spring, but the hype was enough to keep people guessing.
Stepping under the spray, he closed his eyes and let the water beat out the kinks and aches. He was supposed to have dinner with an on again, off again relationship, but wasn't looking forward to it. He wanted something more. Something meaningful.
Switching off the water, he stood for a minute, his gaze unfocused. Then with a sigh, he slid the glass open and stepped out. Taking a towel, he dried himself off and decided that he wasn't going to cancel dinner.
*****
The boy's eyes were huge as he stared at her.
"We're having homemade pizza? With pepperoni and that sauce, you made? It's not my birthday."
Melanie slid him a glance as she put together the ingredients she needed. "It might be because you're such a darling boy."
