All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are all products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.
This is the third story in the Conestoga Court series, the first two being "Two Couples Suspicions" and "I Think It's the Wine." All of the stories are independent and meant to be read separately and in no particular order. Conestoga Court is a typical suburban neighborhood with eight homes located around the nearly circular court. Married couples occupy five of the houses. One has an unmarried couple living together; one a single woman and the last a single man.
* * * * *
"Lorenzo, you need to trim a little more carefully. You have grass growing over the edges of your sidewalk and the driveway."
"Good idea, Mom. I'll get to that as soon as I can. How are you, anyway?"
"I'm fine, not that you'd ever call to find out," she replied, a disgruntled look on her face.
"I call all the time, mom, but you're never there. And, if you'd ever relent and get an answering machine, I could at least leave a message.
"Humph," was her only reply as she began looking around the house. "I'm not interested in hearing your voice on some kind of a machine. It's bad enough to listen on the telephone instead of looking at you while we talk. Is the dishwasher empty? I'll put these things in for you."
"Thanks, Mom, but you don't need to bother. I'll get them later this evening ... like I always do," he added, to let her know that he had some kind of organization to his life.
Lorenzo watched his mother as she prowled around the house, checking to be sure he was doing things properly and in a timely manner. He was thirty-nine years old and had lived by himself since the divorce, seventeen years ago now. Three years of an ugly, fruitless, and unrewarding marriage had ended very predictably. The best part of it was that he and his former wife had not seen each other since the day the divorce was finalized.
"So, son, do you have a lady-friend now?" Usually, that was the first question she asked.
"Well, I've had a couple of dates with a lady, but nothing serious yet."
"At least some dates, for a change," she said, a disappointed tone to her voice.
He didn't mention that the two dates were separated by over two months and he was determined there wouldn't be a third. He just wasn't interested in women, even though he hadn't been totally abstinent during those seventeen years. One-night-stands were all he'd needed and had served him well.
Her inspection complete, Melanie seated herself very primly on Lorenzo's couch. Since she was clearly planning on visiting, Lorenzo had a question he'd been harboring for some time, unsure what his Mom's reaction to it might be.
"May I ask you a question, Mom?"
She cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. "If you have to ask that question, yours must be something very out of the ordinary."
"I guess it is. I've always been curious about ... why did you marry Dad?"
Melanie started slightly. "That's an odd question. Why do people usually get married?"
"That's why I asked the question. You're, well, very straightforward, a time and a place for everything and—"
"Victorian?" she interrupted.
"Would you describe yourself that way?"
"I suppose if I had to. I guess it seems to fit."
"Admitting that and what I said before, that's the reason I asked the question."
She settled back on the couch, adjusting a pillow. "I played the violin and he the trumpet. We saw each other at practice each night and began discussing the music, the conductor, and how things were done. He was very polite, intelligent ... and handsome, I guess. He began coming past my house, and we'd walk to practice together. He laughed so easily and made me laugh as well." She paused and looked at Lorenzo very intently. "Honestly, the color or his skin faded from view—it wasn't important any longer."
"That just seems amazing, Mom. It's just so ..."
"Different and out-of-character for me?" She nodded and smiled. "It was indeed, and your grandparents reminded me of that often. And in a very loud voice. But it didn't matter. When you fall in love, really in love, those little things don't matter. They become invisible holes in the path that you pass over without even seeing."
Lorenzo had never heard that detail from either his mother or father, and it shined a new light on her, a light that made her much easier to visualize.
"I think you know the rest," she continued, "that I wasn't able to have children and we were lucky enough to adopt you rather quickly. I guess you were so good," she laughed, "that we decided we didn't need any others."
Lorenzo moved to the couch and hugged her. She was what she was, and he loved her, even if she exasperated him no end sometimes.
"You need a good woman," she continued, standing and obviously ready to leave.
"If I can find one as good as you are, I might consider it."
"You just need to fall in love, like your father and I did. That's what I pray for nightly."
"Thanks, Mom," he said, following her out the door and waving as she climbed into her car. She tooted and very slowly exited his driveway.
"Was that your Mom, Uncle Lorenzo?" he heard a voice call and, turning, saw Alison Donellan running toward him. She jumped into his arms, and they hugged.
"What are you doing around here?" he asked, holding her at arm's length and checking her from top to bottom.
"Sis and I are here to spend a couple of weeks with Mom and Dad. It's soooo good to see you too." Her deep blue eyes bored into his. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Ali and Jen as well."
"I'm ready for a little B-ball any time you are, too. I can whip your butt now."
"Is that because you think I'm old?"
"You'll never be old, Unc. You look just like you did when I went away to college," she added with a warm smile.
Of course, Lorenzo wasn't really her uncle, but the two girls had always called him that. Both girls were basketball players and had been outstanding in high school and done well for their Division III colleges as well. The three of them had many intense one-on-one duels at the Donellan's court, and the girls credited Lorenzo for much of their athletic success. He had been an excellent high school basketball player, so he had enjoyed helping the girls and missed only a very few of their high school games. When they'd gone away to college, it was a little more complicated, but he still managed to get to some of the important ones.
"How are you enjoying being a nurse?"
She laughed. "I
love
it. I meet so many interesting people, and I get to help them too, and that makes me feel really good." The look on her face left no doubt about the sincerity of what she'd said.
"I knew you'd love it, and I knew you'd be good at it. And, by the way, you look good."
Alison gazed at him for long seconds before she replied. "Thanks, Unc," she said softly, those blue eyes meeting his once more.
He felt something inside his body stir, a feeling he didn't recognize. Alison had undoubtedly grown up. He laughed at himself. What normal male wouldn't respond that way to a girl like Alison? She wasn't beautiful by any means, but she was trim, athletic, bubbly, and definitely very cute at five-foot-eight. He was sure she'd have a guy if she didn't already.
"You still at the Shelter?"
"Yep, and, like you, I love it. Wouldn't want to do anything else."
"What's the name again, and I won't forget it this time?"
"It's Mac's Shelter. The MacAlisters, who gave the big chunk of change to get the place going, didn't want their name on it. They were just good folks. They agreed to Mac's, though, since they thought that was kind of cute."
