“I missed you too, pal.” They continued on out of the school and into the parking lot. “What did you and your mom get up to this weekend?”
Freddie’s mouth dipped into a small pout. “She was busy with work, so I spent a lot of time with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Irritation itched along Scott’s arms. Not that Scott begrudged his son spending time with his maternal grandparents, but what bothered him was how often Katrin used her parents as a babysitting service when she had Freddie. Whether she left for a work thing or to go out on a date, Freddie was with his grandparents a lot. And all Freddie said he ever did with his grandparents when they had him was watch the news while he helped his grandfather roll cigarettes.
The first time Scott heard that, he’d nearly blown a gasket. He drove right over to the Davids’ house and asked if they were smoking in the same space as his son. Both Dennis and Barb smoked like chimneys, so the house smelled like cigarettes—that was one thing—however, if they smoked around his son, Scott would make sure they never fucking saw him again.
Dennis and Barb swore up, down and sideways that they never smoked around Freddie, that Freddie just liked helping his grandfather roll his smokes. What else could he do besides put the fear of God into them and then make sure he and his son had an honest relationship and Freddie told him the truth about whether Dennis and Barb smoked around him? Oh, and bathe Freddie like he’d just wrestled a bunch of pigs after he came home smelling like an ashtray.
As he helped Freddie climb into the back seat of his truck, he bent down and sniffed his son’s hair and clothes.
Fuck, he stunk. He was going to have to not only scrub every square inch of his kid in the bath tonight but also wash all his clothes, including his backpack and coat. You’d think his ex-wife would think to do that before she sent Freddie to school on Monday, but noooo. Not Katrin. How dare she consider anybody else—including her child—and how he might smell all day?
He made sure Freddie was all buckled in, double-checked the seat belt and then pecked his son on the forehead. “I really did miss you, bud. House feels so empty and quiet without you.”
Freddie grinned. “I missed you too, Dad. I’d rather just live with you all the days instead of spending some days with you and some days with Mom. We have more fun.”
This was always the narrative when he picked Freddie up on Mondays and then when he dropped Freddie off at school Monday morning the following week, before his week with his mother started. He often cried when Scott dropped him off, clinging to his leg. It damn near ripped Scott’s heart out each and every time.
The lawyers had advised him and Katrin to do a week on/week off custody arrangement, said it was easier on children with fewer transitions. And they had been right. When they divorced three years ago, Freddie got into the routine pretty quickly, and Scott’s week with his son was awesome. Only now, since Freddie started kindergarten in September, he was showing signs of not wanting to be away from Scott for a full seven days, and his reluctance to go with his mother was becoming more vocal.
Liam, his brother and lawyer, had advised him to keep the arrangement as it was for now, until Freddie was bit older and the transition of starting school wore off. Most likely, Freddie was simply having a tough time adjusting to school and after-school care, and his angst was coming out in a resistance to being with Katrin. At least that’s what Scott hoped was the case. He promised Liam he’d give Freddie a year to acclimatize to school, but if his kid was still resisting going to his mother’s by the following September, Scott was going to revisit the custody agreement and see about getting Freddie full-time. No way should his kid be miserable if he didn’t have to be.
“What’s for dinner, Dad? I’m starving,” Freddie asked as Scott climbed in behind the steering wheel of his truck and turned on the engine.
“How does homemade mac and cheese sound with cut-up veggies on the side?” Freddie wasn’t the most adventurous eater, but he also wasn’t as picky as some kids. Like Scott, the kid enjoyed comfort food—meatloaf and mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, tomato soup and grilled cheese, beef stew, spaghetti. All the things that filled you up and made your mouth happy.
“Sounds good. With ranch dip for the veggies?” Freddie asked on another yawn.
“You know it, pal.”
It was only a short drive from the school to Scott’s house, and they were there in no time. Freddie hit the button to roll down his window. “Hey, looks like we have new neighbors.”
Scott’s head swung from the road to Eva’s house, where sure enough, she and two little boys were hauling boxes from the back of her minivan to the front door. She looked like fucking perfection in brick-colored yoga pants, a dark gray hoodie and long red ponytail. Was there anything she didn’t look like dynamite in?
“We do,” he said, rolling his tongue back into his mouth. “I met the mom, and she seems very nice. Her sons are five and seven.”
“That’s older and younger than me,” Freddie said with excitement. “Can we go over and meet them? Can we?” He was bouncing up and down in his booster seat, his tangible fatigue from a moment ago seeming to have vanished. “Maybe they can come over for dinner?”
“I don’t know, buddy. They’re probably still busy moving in.” Scott turned in to his driveaway and parked the truck. Freddie was out of his seat belt and opening the door before Scott even made it out of his own door.
“I’m going to say hi,” Freddie said, leaping to the pavement and booking it down the driveaway and around the hedge. Thankfully there was about a six-foot span of grass between the hedge and the sidewalk, and then there was a bike lane between the sidewalk and the actual road, so Scott wasn’t too worried about his kid getting hit by a car.
He was, however, worried about his kid just barging into somebody’s house and making himself at home. Freddie was a very friendly kid by nature and had no qualms inviting himself somewhere if it was where he wanted to be.
“Freddie!” Scott called after his son, exhaling deep through his nose as he followed the path his son had taken down the driveaway and around the hedge.
He heard his son’s chipper voice before he saw her face, a mask of amusement making her all the more beautiful. “Hi, I’m Freddie. A really old man used to live in this house before you. But don’t worry, he didn’t die in there. He just went to an old forks home.”
Eva snorted before she smiled. “Well, it’s so nice to meet you, Freddie. This is Kellen”—she rested her hand on the younger little boy’s shoulder—“and this is Lucas.”
All the boys waved at each other.
Her green eyes flicked up to Scott’s, her grin as gorgeous as ever. “Good to know that nobody died in our house.”
Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’m surprised you hadn’t already been filled in about the previous owner from half the block. Are they leaving you alone?”
She scoffed. “Oh heck no. I had six women on my doorstep with cookies and gossip when I drove into the driveway after dropping the kids off at school. Then another three flitted in over the day as I was unpacking. I know everything about everyone now.”
He bet she did. The whole street was already probably talking about Scott hanging out at Eva’s last night. Old Ruthie across the street was a night owl and kept her drapes open twenty-four seven. She saw everything that happened around her and didn’t go to sleep until well past midnight. As she was watching television, she probably saw Scott sneak back to his place.