By the Weak

7

A few days later, on Saturday, I was decorating for Christmas and stringing lights on the bushes out front. I loved living in the south because I didn't have to wear a coat, but the weather was still chilly today.

I hadn't seen Joel since our fight. I hoped not to. We need to move on, and seeing each other was not how to do that.

An Audi sports car pulled up in front of Joel's house, and an older man got out. He was tall and broad. He wore a shirt and tie, but he rolled up his sleeves on his forearms to give a more informal appearance. Some modern aviator sunglasses and a stainless steel watch accessorized his look. Probably the mom's boyfriend.

When he turned around, I saw a dark curl fall from a perfectly quaffed hairstyle and a smirk that looked exactly like Joel's. This hot zaddy was Joel's
father.

Whelp, the mystery of where Joel got his good looks is now solved. Case closed.

He did a slow jog up to the door of Joel's house, and Joel's mom answered. She held the doorframe with her hand as the other went to her jutted hip. It was clearly a way to block her ex from entering or seeing inside the house. Classy.

Their conversation didn't seem heated, but obviously, Joel's dad wasn't pleased with the outcome. The anger and frustration were evident on his face as he turned to go back to his car.

"Ask her!" The mom said, pointing at me as I connected another strand of lights to the previous set. "He talks to her."

The father looked in the direction of the mother's finger - at me. He removed his sunglasses, and I immediately felt nervous when our eyes met with my belly flipping and my core tightening.

He jogged across the street as Joel's mom returned inside the house.

"Hi! I'm Garrett, Joel's dad. Uh, Christy said you might know where Joel is...he mentioned a neighbor that he...are you Sadie?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm Sadie. Sadie Dawson. I'm not sure where Joel is. Joel was just helping me with some things around the house. That's really it," I fidgeted a bit, remembering him licking me in my bedroom that second week.

"Oh? Didn't your husband or boyfriend help..."

"Divorced," I shrugged before he could finish.

"Ah. Well, I can see why he offered," he said with a sly smile and wink. Oh, he is good. Charming like his son. Or I guess his son's like his dad. And is he flirting with me? "Joe has always had a thing for older women," he chuckled. Joe, huh? Wait, a thing for older women?

"I'm sure that isn't the case with me," I said, dismissing him with a wave. "Should I call you if I see him?"

"It's not necessary," but Garrett paused and reached inside his pant pocket for his phone. "But it may be good to exchange numbers. Ya know, just in case. This time he was just trying to reach me for a few days, and I was away on business. But, uh, it could be an emergency sometime. I hope we will see each other again," he said with a smile that mirrored his son's, and then slid his aviators back on the bridge of his perfectly sculpted nose.

Did all forty-something men look this good? Perhaps after thirty, all men look good? I really needed to look at men my age. Or older. Or just Garrett Morris.

He took off in his Audi, and I finished up the lawn decor. I stepped down to the curb to admire my work. It was about 7:00 PM, so only the street lights were on.

As my garage door began to rise, I noticed the headlights of a truck a block away approaching my house. Only one truck had access to my garage, and I wouldn't talk with the owner on my lawn in front of my plastic Santa.