A Date with a Turkey (The Dating 11) - Page 1

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Maeve

Three months.

Three months feels like ten years in small-town life. Never would I have ever thought I’d move back to New Hampshire. It’s nice being close to my parents because I can see them on more occasions other than just the holidays. I miss Baltimore, though, the big city life. I’m used to being on the go twenty-four-seven. But alas, all I had in Baltimore is gone. Being newly divorced, I thought I could make it on my own, but it’s not easy being a single mother. I practically was one even when I was married. That’s what happens when you marry a pilot, and he’s traveling from country to country most days of the week. Growing apart was inevitable.

“Mom,” Logan calls out, his voice echoing down the hallway.

Propping my feet up on the coffee table, I lean back on the couch. I already know what he’s looking for. “What’s up?” I shout back.

“I can’t find my shoes.”

They happen to be right under the coffee table. “Come here, and you might find them.”

When it comes to his room, he’s not perfectly tidy, but at least he’s somewhat neat. I don’t know what it is about his shoes, but he’ll leave them in odd places. I’ve found them under the bar in the kitchen, in the laundry room, and sometimes in the hallway for no apparent reason. Maybe it’s a quirk most ten-year-old boys have. I don’t know, but I’m learning new things about boys every day.

Logan marches into the living room, dressed in a pair of jeans and a Baltimore Ravens long-sleeved T-shirt; it’s his favorite team. When we moved away from Baltimore to Plymouth, he said no matter where we go, he’ll always pull for the Ravens. I hated having to uproot him, but there was no other choice. Logan spots his shoes and smiles. “That’s right. I took them off while we were watching Cobra Kai.” He grabs them and sits beside me so he can put them on.

“Maybe you should keep them in your room from now on. That way, you won’t lose them.”

Logan turns to me with those big, brown eyes of his. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I run a hand through his messy brown hair. Everyone says he’s my mini-me. We both have dark brown hair and brown eyes, but he gets his outgoingness from his father when it comes to personality. I was more of the shy type in school, very plain jane. That’s not my Logan, though; he’s not like me. Luckily, he’s made some friends since starting school. His teacher happens to be one that taught me many years ago.

I bump him with my shoulder. “You ready to go to Nana and Poppy’s?”

He ties his shoes and stands. “Yep. Are you coming with us to the festival?”

“No,” I blurt out with a shake of my head. “I’m going to take it easy today since it’s my day off.” That’s not the real reason, but I don’t want to explain to him that I dread the thought of running into people I went to school with. I had a few friends, but nothing that stuck after high school. We all went our separate ways. My way was straight out of New Hampshire. I stand and drape my arm over his little shoulders. “You’re going to have so much fun.”

“Do you want me to get you a caramel apple?”

He knows the way to my heart. Grinning, I squat down to his level and hug him. “That would be very sweet of you. You know I can’t resist a caramel apple.”

“I know,” he laughs. I tap a finger to my cheek, and he kisses me. “Bye, Mom.”

I open the door, and he runs out. My parents live just three houses away, so I watch him until he gets to their door and goes inside. When searching for a place to rent, I got lucky when this one came available. Both my parents are retired, so when I work, they’re able to watch Logan. It saves me tons of money on childcare. In Baltimore, I worked just to pay for it and keep Logan on his football team. The fees aren’t cheap. Even with child support from my ex, it wasn’t enough to help with all the expenses. Now that I’m in a smaller town, my pay is less but so are my bills. It’s all worked out. Logan is on the youth football team, and he’s happy; that’s all that matters.

Grabbing a wine glass out of the cabinet, I can’t help but feel excited about having some peace with a nice cold drink. My favorite holiday is coming up, and there’s a lot to be thankful for. I reach into the refrigerator for my wine and tip the bottle until my glass fills to the top. It’s not every day I get time to myself. Since being back in Plymouth, I’ve either been working, unpacking, or taking Logan to school, football games, or his practices for the past three months.



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