Best Served Cold

by Mistress Cindi

 

Chapter 1

 

It was in the summer of 1976. Tom has just turned fourteen. He was what could only be termed as average in every respect. He was five foot seven and weighed about 127 pounds. Tom's hair was shoulder length, straight and light brown. His big eyes were hazel and adorned with thick, long lashes. Tom was involved in baseball and was a relatively good hitter and an average third baseman. He loved baseball. He loved being out in the warm sun on the cool grass. He loved the smells, the sounds, everything about the game pleased his every sense.

It was after one of his games that the event that would change his life occurred. He had just came in the back door of his house when his mother came over to him. "Tommy, we have to talk, dear," his mother said, a look of deep sadness on her face. "Your father has left us for another woman. He has been having an affair, and has decided to go with her. It seems that she is being transferred to another state in her new job, and he is going with her. We will probably never see him again."

Tom did not know what to think, he just collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and sat there in stunned silence. His mind was reeling. How could his father have been carrying on an affair? How could he choose this woman over his mother, over HIM? Tom had always respected his father, even loved him. He had always believed that his father loved him, but now…………….? Tom did not know what to think. His mother came over to him and put her arms around him. She held him close, and began to rock him gently, taking comfort in comforting him.

They stayed like that for about a half an hour, mother and son, both with their own thoughts. It was Tom that broke the spell of melancholy that had gripped them both.

"What are we going to do? How will we pay the bills? Is he going to send money? What will happen to us?"

"We will get by, I am going to re-open the boutique I used to run a few years ago, and we will do the best we can. You will have to help me, so I am afraid that you will have to give up the rest of the baseball season. I know, but I promise that I will make it up to you," his mother said.

As Tom ate dinner, it was with little acknowledgment of taste. He was eating automatically, out of habit. He got up from the table and went upstairs to his room where he stared out of the window until it was time for bed. He tried to sleep, but could not get his mind to relax. His thoughts raced. He tried to imagine what the future would hold, but every thought led to more uncertainty. Tom finally went to sleep due to exhaustion. When he awoke, he was stiff and tired. His sleep had given him no refreshment.

Tom got dressed and headed downstairs to find his mother on the phone. She was busy getting a location lined up for her new boutique. The boutique would be for young girls, ages ten through eighteen. His mother had once run a very successful store of this type before, but his father had insisted that she give it up in order to take care of the new house that they had bought. Tom mused that at least that was one good thing. The house was paid for, they would not have to worry about a place to live. Between phone calls to get products, licenses, utility services turned on and seemingly a thousand other details, Tom's mother managed to get breakfast for Tom and herself. Tom could see that this was going to be a lot of work and that she could not do it on her own. He knew that she needed his help, but baseball? He knew he had no choice if their now abbreviated family was going to survive.

  

  

  

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