Caleb was half Beth’s height, yet he ran twice as fast–into the legs of the grumpiest man at the Cottage Cove Senior Center.
Amos Wainright jolted with the jarring motion. The lettering on his blue t-shirt, “I may be grumpy. At least I’m not a Grizz fan,” crumpled when he leaned into the momentum.
Beth weaved her way through tables and chairs being moved back into place. Except for Amos’s knees, in minutes, life would be back to normal for everyone at the senior center.
Some people would return to the tv area off to the side, most likely to recover from the Senior and Tots hour. It had been a great day. They’d played Bear Hunt. People, some with the assistance of walkers or wheelchairs, roamed around the room holding a toddler’s hand. Amos wasn’t one of them.
“I’m so sorry,” Beth apologized to the man with a shadow of a mustache that seemed to outline his scowl. She braced herself for the most common retort given by people who had finished raising kids—When I was in your place, my kids knew how to behave.
Amos was the human equivalent of a lion. He’d snarl and occasionally snap. If a person wasn’t prepared, the things he’d say could take a chunk out of a person’s ego.
Beth held out her hand, imploring her mop-haired son to follow her lead toward the open area of the Senior Center. “Caleb, we need to be gentle with people.”
Caleb wrapped his toddler’s arm around Amos’s leg and leaned in. His childish giggle, which was typically endearing, felt more like a taunt. You can’t make me.
His wavy hair touched the nape of his neck and bounced when he circled back into the space between the older man’s legs and glanced up toward his face.
Caleb’s sandy brown hair contrasted Beth’s dark brown curls. Her mother said that she’d had hair like Caleb until she turned four. Thankfully, both had green eyes—his occasionally mischievous, but mostly bright with hope, hers ever watchful for the unknown.
Teetering on the tightrope of indecision, Beth negotiated with her natural instinct to plead.
She was the adult in this situation. She was supposed to be the one in charge, and if she failed, Amos would call her out.
At three, Caleb was at the age where he’d tasted independence. He’d tested boundaries, expanding his reach. Yesterday it was choosing his shorts. Today, he’d gone big and was picking out allies.
Beth, too, had grown. After books, podcasts, and mommy-and-me talks with her friends, she’d built an arsenal of tools to have a fighting chance of keeping her sanity while navigating single motherhood. She’d use her this-will-be-fun-voice. “Caleb, honey. Come help me pick up the toys.”
It didn’t work. Caleb shook his head no and pushed deeper into Amos’s personal space. Other than grabbing him, which would start an entirely different scene, Beth was at a loss to save Amos from her son, who chose to be gregarious at the most inconvenient time.
“I bet you’re one of those women who won’t let men be friends.” The bite in Amos’s voice wasn’t there. He smiled down at Caleb, who’d gripped the bottom of the older man’s Montana Bobcats fan t-shirt as though his life depended on it.
Beth’s journey is just beginning… but this is where the “public” story ends.
To protect the heart of this story for my most dedicated readers, the full chapters of Cottage Cove: The Finale are hosted in my Private Subscriber Library. Want to read the rest of Chapter One (and the 49 chapters to follow)?
- If you’re on Facebook: Join our Private Reader Group. I post the full chapters there every Sunday and Wednesday for us to discuss together. It’s like a living room book club, and you’re invited.
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I’ll see you back in the Cove!