Once Again for Old Time's Sake

Chapter 1 - WTF?

This book is the sequel to Homecoming Proposal and is not a stand-alone.  You will want to read it before continuing with this story.

RILEY-earlier in the week

Was Mrs. Durant holding another one of her fucking Sip and Paint nights? I've told her not to use my driveway again. Slowing down, I counted nine cars in my driveway and six in front of the house blocking all the available parking and preventing me from accessing my garage. I white-knuckled my steering wheel as I backed my truck into Mr. Dean's driveway. Not the way I wanted to end this Thursday night.

Mr. Dean was a crotchety, older man who despised Mrs. Durant's social activities as much as I. He and I have a tentative ceasefire when it comes to her behaviors. Her husband was well-liked. He passed away, leaving a hole in the community and opening a revolving door for his widow's bedroom. Like hell, she's going to have free reign to use my property for her parties.

I was supposed to fly out this morning and had left my home vacant but secure for a long weekend. However, due to some FUBAR supply chain issue, the investors canceled our meeting resulting in my early return home. Right now, I wanted to get this shit sorted and get into my own house. It's not as if I wasn't up at 4:30 a.m. to make it to the airport on time. Now I have to deal with this.

As I got out of my truck, I pocketed my keys and started pulling my tie free, leaving it hanging open. I almost reached into the back seat to grab my go-bag and jacket. Fuck it. I need to piss like a rushing racehorse. I'll deal with it after I deal with Mrs. Durant.

Slamming the door, the metallic groan and sudden burst of noise scared the neighbor's cat and prompted at least two dogs to begin their twilight howl. Even the night insects ceased their ruckus for a moment. I cracked my knuckles in against one another, itching for a fight with her.

I double-timed across the street, feeling the waves of residual heat rising from the asphalt. The shadows of night had dropped the air temperatures, but there was nothing to save me from the humidity. Talk about sultry summer nights, this is one for the record books, and we haven't even hit the hottest part of the season yet. A light breeze moved the slowly graying dark brown hair I wore short.

What the fuck? Getting closer, I noticed several things that put my hackles up. The curtains I left open this morning are closed. There was no way I heard NIN's Closer from Mrs. Durant's house. As I hit the opposite curb, I realized the sound emanated from MY house. I live alone as all my adult-aged children are in college or on their own.

Five will get you ten that one of my kids came home and brought their buddies over too. My senses were going haywire. Instead of the soft scents of jasmine, honeysuckle, and gardenia, I smell the putrid stench of a skunk and tobacco. The other cloud of smoke coming from around the house indicates someone fired up my charcoal grill. If MY steaks are on that damn thing, I will tan someone's hide.

I mounted the steps. I heard brakes before a series of doors opened and closed. Turning to the new arrivals, I saw a towering stack of pizzas teetering up the walk, proudly boasting the local pizzeria's name and logo. A masculine voice breaks, "Thanks for meeting me out here. Let me go get the rest." He passes the pile of hot cardboard to me. I could smell the hot pepperoni and gooey cheese without even opening one.

I turned to set the pizzas on the double swing. Using my knee, I held it still as I stacked the pizzas. The acne-ridden face of the teen was flushed with the heat when he returned. He extended the clipboard to me to sign the receipt. Looking down, I noticed my credit card covered this meal.

I signed the mile-long receipt, mollified because the child in question had some decency, giving a large tip despite using my card. I never wanted my kids to be inconsiderate of those in a position to serve them. Handing it back to him, I also pulled out a $20 bill and gave him a little something extra. I remembered how hard it was to live on tips.