I know I am the last person that should be starting a new story right now. I've hit a serious road block with my others and this idea just came to me. I promise to get back on track with my updates soon, but for now I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think!
Parent teacher conferences were never pleasant experiences for Richard Gold. He didn't enjoy them when he was the student and they hadn't gotten any better since he'd been a parent. His son, Brayden was in second grade, and was unfortunately falling behind in reading. His teacher, Ms. Blanchard had been explaining this to him for the past ten minutes and he had heard enough.
"What do you suggest I do?" he asked as politely as he could.
She smiled gently at him, "Well Ms. French runs an after school reading program. She works one-on-one with kids who need a little extra help, like Brayden. Her office is at the end of the hall, last door on the left. I think you should sign him up, he'd really benefit from it."
Richard smiled and stood from his seat, he extended his hand to the kind teacher and went on his way. Walking down the hall he glanced into each classroom, noticing the smiles on all the other parents faces, caused from the praises they'd been receiving from the teachers no doubt. Parents. He so wished that one day Brayden would be able to have that, but for now, it was just him. He was so lucky to have his son, and he knew that. He had never had much luck with relationships, having only had one not so serious girlfriend in high school. Then the one night stand that had lead to Brayden. The woman, Mildred, reluctantly agreed to have the baby, upon his groveling request. Nine months later, she was gone and he was daddy.
Richard stood in front of the closed door of Ms. French's office for a couple of minutes before finally gaining the courage to knock. It opened almost instantly, as if she'd been expecting his arrival. "Hello" she said in a cheerful voice. "What can I do for you?"
He cleared his throat. "I, um, wanted to talk to you about my son. About him joining your program."
Her smile got brighter. "Of course! Come right in." She opened the door wider and he slid in, finding his seat in the old fold-up chair. She walked around her desk went into the tiny filing cabinet, pulling out a form. "What is your son's reading level?"
Richard thought for a moment, "Well, he's in second grade, but his teacher Ms. Blanchard, says he's fallen behind. I'm not sure how much." She nodded and wrote a few things down on the sheet of paper, then handed it over to him along with a pen.
"I just need the basic information. Name, address, phone number, those sorts of things." Richard looked down at the paper and started filling in the lines. "How many days a week would you like your son to stay with me? Some just do one or two, other parents have their children stay after every day."
He looked up from the paper to meet her eyes. "I'm not really sure how much help he needs."
"Well, you can have him stay tomorrow, and I can give you my opinion, if that helps." Richard nodded and brought his focus back to the paper. "Do you read to him at home?" she asked. He froze. He had tried to start reading him bedtime stories, but lately Brayden had been rejecting him. He'd started asking questions about his mother, and Richard wasn't sure how to answer, so he didn't.
"I used to" he paused, "but lately, he's become disinterested." Looking down and noticing there was nothing left to fill in, he pushed the paper over to her side of the desk. She picked up and read over the details.
"Your Brayden's father?" Richard simply nodded. "He's such a sweet boy. I'm asked to go into the classrooms from time to time to help with reading lessons. He's always been so eager to learn."
Richard smiled at her comments. She said more good things about Brayden in five seconds, than that Blanchard had in ten minutes. "Thank you. Brayden's the best thing that ever happened to me, I just want him to be happy." When he tilted his head up to meet her eyes, he noticed that she was looking at him in a strange way, almost as if she found him admirable. He shook it off. "If that's all you need, I think I'll head out."
She shook her head, waking herself from the daze she was in. Walking him to the door, she shook his hand. "Thank you Ms. French" he said to here in the most sincere voice. She whispered a quiet 'you're welcome' and watched him leave.
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Arriving home was almost a blessing. He could see the faint glow of the television through the living room window. The babysitters car was parked along the curb. He sat in the car for a few moments, reflecting on his parenting. Where had he gone wrong? Brayden was already starting to pull away and he was barely eight years old. Should he have looked harder for someone to share his life with, to be Brayden's mother. He supposed it wasn't too late, but who in their right mind would want to be with someone as inexperienced with love as he was? He knew Brayden wanted a mother desperately. What he didn't know was how he was going to get one. With all this in mind, he trudged up to the front door of his home.
Richard had a decent enough job as an accountant to afford a nice house. It was two floors, nothing to extravagant, but it topped the neighbors. His car was nothing special. It was an old Cadillac that had definitely seen better days, but it still ran, so there was no point in getting rid of it. He never spent the money he made, unless it was on Brayden. He had already put a hefty amount away for his son's college education, wanting him to be able to go anywhere in the world he wanted.
Walking into his living room, he saw his son sitting on the floor in front of some mindless cartoon. His babysitter, Ashley Boyd was on the couch doing homework. She heard him come in and closed her books, packing them away. She went and said goodbye to Brayden, took her money and left.
"What did you do with Ashley tonight son?" Brayden shrugged his shoulders. Richard tried to brush that off the best he could. "Would you like to hear what your teacher said?" Another shrug of his shoulders. "She told me that you've been having a hard time reading." Silence. "So I signed you up for the after school reading program with Ms. French." Another shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe we should practice reading tonight before bed, so you're prepared for tomorrow."
"I don't wanna" the boy shrugged.
Richard sighed in defeat. "Alright. Make sure you turn off the tele after this episode, I don't want you watching too much of it. I'm gonna go start dinner.
"Can we order pizza?" Brayden asked.
"No, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow we'll do pizza" Richard told him before dragging his feet into the kitchen.
"But I want pizza now!" Brayden shouted.
"I said we can't tonight. I already planned to make that chicken dish that you like for tonight." Richard yelled back from the kitchen.
"I don't like chicken anymore. I want pizza!"
Richard leaned over the counter, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the edge. Then he got an idea. Walking back into the living room, phone in hand, he grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table and turned it off.
Brayden turned around, annoyed, "Hey I was watching that."
Ignoring his son's comment he held out the phone to him. "I'm going to make you a deal. We can have pizza tonight, IF, and only if you practice your reading tonight, for a whole hour. What do you say?"
He seemed to think over his father's proposal. He didn't really want to read, he wasn't very good at, but he really wanted pizza. "Fine. Will you help me practice?" he asked in that sweet little boy voice.
Richard smiled at his son, kneeling down to his eye level. "Of course I'll help you. I will always be here to help you Brayden, I promise you that." The boy smiled and informed his father that he wanted cheese pizza. Richard called and placed the order. He didn't like what he had just done. What was next, bribing him to do math with ice cream? Slumping down into the couch, he handed the remote back to Brayden, who zoned out the second Spongebob came back into focus on the screen.
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Isabelle French, Belle to her friends, spent her drive home thinking about Richard Gold. It was strange, since she had never met him before today. Pulling into her driveway, she noticed her ex-boyfriends car parked on the street. Groaning, she hit her head against the back of the seat. She guessed that this would have to happen eventually. They hadn't talked since he came home to find all of his stuff in a pile on the front lawn. Greg had told her that he was working late. So when he called her in the middle of having sex with someone that obviously wasn't her, new locks were the first things to change. She payed an obscene amount of money to have the locksmith come within the hour to change them, but it was worth it.
Belle was in no hurry to get out of the sanctuary of her car. Getting her bag together as slowly as she could, she reluctantly opened the door and stepped out. Greg stepped out of his own car and walked up to her.
"Can we talk inside?" he asked.
"No" she told him. "I don't want to talk. So you can talk alone, out here, and away from me." Belle walked briskly to her door, fumbling with the keys slightly before finding the right one. Greg followed her up the steps.
"Come on Belles, it didn't mean anything. It was just sex. It's not like you were gonna give me any, I had to get it somewhere, that's what secretaries are for."
Belle wanted to smack the smugness right out of him, but managed to keep her cool. Unlocking the door she whipped around to face him. "I don't want your explanations. I don't care why or who it was. All I give a shit about is that it did happen. You come to my house again, and I call the cops. Stay away from me." Slamming the door in his face, she felt a surge of relief flood through her. Flipping the lock and closing the blinds so he couldn't look in, she glanced around at her empty house. She was already thirty, time was running out for her possibility at a family. She had always wanted a lot of kids, but she didn't want to have them with the first guy that gave her the option. She wanted true love. She wanted the whole fairytale, but white knights and princes were hard to find these days.
She thought of Richard Gold then, and how lucky Brayden's mother is to have someone who is so obviously full of love. Why couldn't men like him ever find her. Pulling out her lesson book, she tried to take her mind off men by planning her lessons for tomorrow. She had a new student to cater to after all.
