Chapter 8- Part Two: When the bottle is in fact half empty.

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Chapter 8 Part Two

We spent about an hour after breakfast attempting to teach little Timmy the proper way to enunciate his words. It was an activity I had suggested we do after we’d visited the doctor days before, and which he’d finally agreed to do.

Despite the doctor’s words, however, I was not convinced that the way Timmy spoke was ‘normal’. I’d met many a two year old who spoke full and decipherable sentences and what Timmy spoke—as a child approaching the age of three—was gibberish. Plain and simple.

 As expected though, it didn’t take very long for Timmy to grow bored with the entire ordeal, but it was only when he started making a fuss that we found a way to make a game out of his learning experience.

 And so it continued. Every day we took on the task after breakfast, after which time we worked on the patio under the harsh sunlight, until the days melted into a week, then two. We’d established a routine; the three of us, and I found myself falling into the comfort of it; enjoying the company of my guests, learning about them and from them.

Learning; and when I’d learned a great deal…loving.

 It was on the third week that a shift in our routine occurred and it came the night Jason exited his room with an overnight bag and little Timmy in tow, announcing his intention to spend the night with a friend.

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have affected me the way it did. After all, he had a life too and if he wanted to run off with his kid for a night, who was I to ruin it for him.

But it did affect me. In fact, it made me think about possibilities I had not even considered in a while. Things like him and Timmy disappearing out my front door and never coming back. Things like Jason visiting a long lost lover. Things like the two of them getting hurt when I wasn’t there to protect them and finally, things like; me…going back to the life I’d had before I’d met them.

Three and a half weeks and my life had changed so drastically, that the thought of living any other way scared me. I stared down into the mouth of the half empty beer bottle and frowned.

“You know, frowning at it won’t make it disappear any faster.”

I looked up at the sound of my father’s voice and my frown deepened. So lost was I in my own thoughts, that I’d forgotten we’d been having a conversation.

I took a swig of the bitter liquid and it did nothing to change my mood. It had only been a few hours since they’d left, but I missed my boys and drinking away my sorrows with my father wasn’t making it any easier to deal with.

“I should have let him give me the address before he left.” I mumbled to myself. “Anything could happen and I won’t be there to do a thing about it.”

I caught my father’s slow shake of the head from the corner of my eye. “They were getting by just fine before you stuck your nose in son.” He said. “I think they can manage a single night without you.”

“Yeah, but Timmy left that stupid stuffed bunny, which means he’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight and Jason d—”

“You need to get a grip Michael. This isn’t like you.” My father scolded.

“I think it’s sweet.” I looked up when my mama entered the room; a soft smile of her kind face and I welcomed her touch when she wrapped his small arms around me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Aint nothing sweet about it. He’s making those boys turn him inside out. It aint healthy Marie.” Dad interrupted, his eyes following my mother as she crossed the kitchen to open the fridge door.

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