Page 8 of Boxer Next Door

“Martha, it’s me,” I said. “Lydia, Bryson’s mom. I hope I’m not calling you too early.”

“Oh, Lydia! Not at all, I was actually about to get started on breakfast. What can I do for you?”

I flipped a pancake on the stove, then went back to the conversation.

“I was wondering if you could have Bryson stay over for the day? And, maybe sleep over tonight? I have some business to take care of, and I don’t want to leave him alone. I hope you don’t mind it’s on such short notice.” Usually, we set up these little play dates during the week, not on the day of.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” she said genuinely. “My kids would love to see him come back, I’m sure.”

I smiled to myself. Her son, Jason, and my Bryson were the best of friends, and Jason was one of the few people my son hadn't stopped talking to when Mike left. He had other friends, but he was closest with Jason, and because of that, Bryson was close with Martha’s three other kids as well. They loved having him over, and whenever I couldn’t stay with him, they took care of him for me.

We talked it all over, and it was decided I would be taking Bryson over after breakfast. I didn’t know when Ken would be coming over, after all, so the sooner the better. We’d stayed up last night and watched three movies before Bryson finally fell asleep, so he’d have a late start, anyway.

It was around nine when I finished making breakfast. I set the table, then went to wake up my little boy before the food got too cold. I walked up the stairs and went to his room, knocking first before I went in. He was still sprawled on his bed, his lips parted. I heard cute little snores coming out of him, and some drool had dripped over his pillow.

I couldn’t help a smile to myself.

“Bryson,” I called gently. I kneeled on the side of the bed and shook him lightly. “Come on, Bryson. Wake up. I’ll be taking you over to Jason’s place today after breakfast. Don’t you want to go see your friend and play?”

My son was something of a heavy sleeper. But after a minute of coaxing, I was able to get him to sit up, then get out of bed.

“Would you like to shower first, or eat first then shower?”

Bryson blinked, then rubbed one of his eyes, his mouth opening in a wide yawn.

“Breakfast,” he mumbled, heading for his door.

I stopped him before he walked into it, chuckling to myself, then I led him down to where I’d set everything up. The smell woke him up a bit, and he hurried over to the table to eat. I sat across from him and supervised as he ate. He tended to move too fast, and I didn’t want him to choke. We were done at about the same time, and he helped me carry the dishes over to the sink. He pulled a stool over and climbed on top of it to help me wash and dry the dishes, humming all the while.

“Why don’t you head upstairs to get ready?” I told him, once we had everything done and I was going around cleaning the kitchen surfaces. “I’ll be taking you to Jason’s, remember? Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“Okay, Mom,” he said, hugging me around the waist before he was running back to his room.

Half an hour later, he came down the stairs. He had a bag packed with random stuff that I raised an eyebrow at, but I didn’t question him. I helped him take his stuff to the car, then strapped him into the back seat, and we were off. Martha only lived a few blocks away. I could probably just walk over if I were on my own, but it would be too much for Bryson.

Martha opened the door once I stopped on her driveway, her son Jason running out of the house over to my car. His excitement seemed to affect Bryson, who was fumbling with his seatbelt. I laughed at my little boy and stepped out of the car, rounding to the backseat to help.

“Mom!” he whined. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can, but let me help you out, okay? Jason’s waiting for you, after all.”

He didn’t argue anymore, but he was practically vibrating with impatience. As soon as I had him freed, and I handed him his bag as he stepped out, he and Jason were attacking each other with hugs. I was afraid they’d topple over for a moment, but instead, they righted themselves and sped into the house. Martha, smart woman that she was, had stepped aside to let them through.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you on such short notice,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

She waved a dismissive hand at me. “It’s fine. I can imagine how hard it is to juggle work and to look after a hyper little boy. I’ll take good care of your son, Lydia. I’ll drive him over tomorrow morning, or you can come pick him up?”

I nodded, opening my car door and pausing with one foot inside. “I’ll call you and let you know, but if there’s no word from me by eleven, just bring him over.”

She nodded her agreement, and I got back into the car, sending her a wave that she returned before walking back into the house. I drove back to my own home. I didn’t realize I was trembling until I was back on my driveway, and I pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Nerves, I thought to myself. What am I nervous about?

I went back into the house and wondered for a moment what I could do to pass the time. I’d finished all the work I needed to do yesterday because I’d thought I would be spending the evening and the whole weekend with my son. I wanted to spend more time with him, so he wouldn’t start to feel neglected just because one of his parents was gone. But now, I was waiting for my super hot, next door neighbor to show up. To make it worse, thoughts from my dream were back again.

No, I groaned internally. Stop thinking about his firm arms and compact body! I’m going to embarrass myself when he comes here otherwise.

I went into the house to find something to keep me busy. I cleaned up the house, then arranged my kitchen cabinets. Then, I found some dirty laundry and did that. Afterwards, there was nothing more to do. I’d wasted an hour already. There wasn’t anything else to do, so I went to my living room to wait.