Page 1 of Boxer Next Door

1

Lydia

“It’s a gloomy day outside, Charlotte, North Carolina, and snow may just be on the way. Bundle up if you’re going out tonight! Here’s a new track from...”

I turned the radio off, frustrated at just how cheerful the DJ sounded about the weather. It was the beginning of November, and the weather outside certainly showed it. While it wasn’t raining, there were dark clouds in the sky that had been hanging around all day, and now as it drew closer to evening, the air felt much chillier. He might be right, snow might just be on the way.

The weather was bad enough, but after a hectic day of court, I was at the end of my rope. Being a lawyer had been my dream, and while it had been hard when I started out, I doubt I’d ever been as tired as I felt then. It was probably just my years catching up with me, but to say I was glad the day was over and I was glad to be home was an enormous understatement.

I practically stumbled through the door, tossing off my high heels and dropping my purse and some files on the table in the foyer.

“Bryson!” I called out for my eight-year-old son. “Mommy’s home!”

There was silence as I slowly flexed my toes. Then, there was the sound of little feet rushing on the hardwood floor above me. I smiled as I kept my eyes on the stairs. Bryson came around the curve and paused when he caught sight of me. He grinned at me, and it was enough to give me a little more energy.

“Mom!” he exclaimed, practically flying down the stairs and attacking me in a hug.

I let out a squeal as he slammed into me. My balance was a little off, and we almost went tumbling onto the floor. I let out a delighted laugh. I squirmed out of his hold so I could squat down and pull him into a proper hug.

“And how has my little man been?” I asked as I pulled back, ruffling his dark hair. “You didn’t give your babysitter any trouble, I hope?” I asked in my best mommy voice.

Bryson scoffed at me, pouting. “Of course not! I stayed in my room almost all day playing video games and reading comics. Julie is in the kitchen, she was going to make me a snack.”

I pecked a kiss on his cheek. He gave me an expression of disgust as he wiped his cheek and I laughed some more.

“Why don’t we go see Julie for this snack then, hmm?”

I got up to my feet, wincing a little as I walked. I’d been on my feet for most of the day, and my feet were sore from the high heels.

Just a little further, I soothed. A little more, and then I can rest my feet.

Julie was in the kitchen, putting together some sandwiches when we walked in. I let Bryson rush over, following behind him.

“Hi there, Julie,” I greeted, giving her a small smile and a wave. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble today.”

Bryson stuck his tongue out at me. Julie just laughed.

“It’s all right, Lydia. He was a perfect little angel.”

I pursed my lips, doubting the statement. I knew how hyper my son could be.

“I’m glad that you came. I kinda need to go home; I’ve got a lot of assignments that I need to get back to.” She gave me an apologetic look.

I shook my head. “No, I completely understand. Bryson, take a sandwich and sit down, okay? I’ll walk Julie to the door.”

I watched as Julie brought a sandwich and a glass of juice over to the table, and Bryson hurried over to get into his seat. She ruffled his hair, then we both left him to eat.

Julie was the daughter of my neighbor and a teenager in her junior year of high school. Her school wasn’t that far from Bryson’s. It had been hard before she came into our lives, hurrying to get away from work so I could pick him up in the afternoons, only to leave him at home or take him to work with me or leave him to his own devices as I locked myself up in my home office. I’d talked to my neighbor at a local party some months back, and she’d told me her daughter was looking for a part-time job.

After we’d talked, since their schools were so close, she’d agreed to pick him up after school on the days I couldn’t make it and take him home to wait for me to get there. There were nights when I was away longer, so I paid her per hour with a little extra on top for picking Bryson up. I didn’t feel he was old enough to be left alone, and I didn’t have anyone else I trusted my son with, so I was very grateful for her help.

We stopped at the foyer, and I went to the table where I’d left my purse and my papers. I reached into my purse and pulled out some bills.

“Thanks for looking after him, Julie,” I said with a grateful smile, handing the bills over to her.

“Anytime, Lydia,” she said happily, tucking them away. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

She waved on her way out, and I made my way back to the kitchen where Bryson was still eating. I selected a sandwich for myself and a glass of milk, then sat across from my son at the dining table. He had his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk as he chewed his food, and I couldn’t help smiling.