Page 19 of Boxer Next Door

In the afternoon, I ordered out. Once the food came, I sat down and spent some time going over plans for the studio. I had everything planned already, how to get clientele, where to go from there, but a little fine tuning couldn’t hurt.

Later that evening, I left for home. I’d checked the time, and I practically ran out of the building.

Lydia should be home.

“Fuck,” I cursed as soon as I thought the words. Yeah, she was the real reason I was suddenly in a hurry to head home. I knew I could have gone home earlier, but I didn’t have any work to do in my front yard that would let me catch a glimpse of her. Even better if we got back at the same time and I could start up a conversation.

I drove back home in a hurry. When I got there, I was a little disappointed, because her car was already in the driveway. I sighed as I parked. But as soon as I stepped out the car, I could hear giggling and laughing. Curious, I followed the sound, and I saw them.

Lydia was back, and she was playing out in her front yard with her son. The sun was still up, and it was a warm day. She was still in her work clothes, a gray skirt and a pale blouse, but she had replaced her work shoes for a pair of trainers, and her hair fell messily around her shoulders. The kid was running, and she was chasing him. The tree in her front yard had shed, and her son kicked through a pile of raked up autumn leaves, leaving the yard messy again. Her hair flew behind her, and she lunged, arms wrapping around him as they both rolled onto the ground, further messing up the leaves. Her body moved with an ease that didn’t match her age as they tumbled together.

Beautiful.

I could just picture it, if the scene were in a movie, it would have been in slow motion, and a beam of sunlight would have fallen on her face just right.

If that was me she was chasing… what would that be like?

I couldn’t help wondering.

Or if I got to chase her and caught her up in my arms. What would it feel like to hold her close to my chest, my arms around her gently so I didn’t hurt her, but tight enough so she couldn’t escape me easily. Would she want to escape, or let me cradle her against my body?

Fuck! You’re not supposed to think like that!

My sense of reason kicked in. I’d already decided nothing could happen between the two of us, so what was I doing, intruding on her time with her son and watching such a heartwarming scene as if I had the right? My thoughts about her had been less than decent recently, but that couldn’t continue. Her son was right there, and my mind was still wandering into the gutter.

For shame, Kenji.

I grimaced because I could almost imagine it was my mom’s voice scolding me. I had to get out of there before she noticed. How she’d missed the sound of my truck pulling up, I wouldn’t know. Or maybe, she thought it was just another car on the street. I’d think of something to do with her fence later.

I turned away and was already a few feet up my driveway when her voice came from behind me.

“Ken!”

Hearing her call my name was enough to get me to stop. After a moment’s hesitation, I turned around, smiling. They’d both got up, and she was running her hands through her hair, getting rid of any stray leaves. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath.

“Hi, Lydia,” I called back, raising my hand for a wave.

“Did you only just get back?”

I nodded. “I was at my new boxing studio checking the place out. It’ll be opening up soon, so it’s just last minute preparations.”

I pressed my lips flat together so I wouldn’t keep babbling. She probably didn’t want to hear about all of this. But more than that, why was I suddenly so nervous around her? Everything had been just fine, until last night.

“Boxing?”

I was startled for a moment because Lydia hadn't been the one to say it. Then, my eyes dropped down to her son. He looked like he could be anywhere between seven and ten, and he was staring at me in curiosity.

“Um, yes,” I answered lamely. I hadn't expected her kid to want to talk to me. “I’m a boxer, and I opened up a place where I’ll be coaching,” I added the explanation for both their benefits.

The little guy’s expression lit up, and he walked closer to me. I had the urge to step back but forced myself to keep still. There wasn’t anything scary about the kid.

“Hi, I’m Bryson, and you’re Ken, right? Hey, how long have you been boxing?” he asked. He didn’t stop to let me answer, though, just kept firing off questions, saying, “You’re opening a school for boxing, or studio or whatever? Do you teach kids? Do you think I could learn?”

After standing there for a minute, feeling stunned and overwhelmed from all the eager questioning, I burst out laughing. It surprised me, and the kid, too, because he stopped.

“Yeah, kid,” I said, chuckling. “I’m opening up a boxing school. And I could give you lessons if you want. I started when I was around your age.”

“Really?”