Old School: Part II
The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older.
(A Historic Neighbor from Hell Chronicle)
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“You’re exaggerating,” Robert said absently, his mind already back on the house and the apple pie that he’d heard his wife mention that she was going to bake for him.
“Am I?” Noah said dryly, drawing his attention back down to-
“Who’s this?” he couldn’t help but ask as he watched the cute little thing with overdone curls adorned with large pink bows grab onto his son’s arm and held on tightly by the looks of things.
He was actually impressed that she was able to hold onto Noah with the three little girls currently trying to pull her off threatening to break her little fingers if she didn’t let Noah go. Then again, the cute little thing holding onto Noah’s other arm was fending off five girls, so…
“His fiancé,” the little thing bit out venomously through clenched teeth with a murderous look at the trio trying to claim his son.
“I see,” he murmured absently as he shifted his attention from the girls trying to tear his son apart to the mothers standing around the large school yard, demanding that their babies pull harder if they hoped to be an Earl’s wife one day.
“You know he’s really not in line to inherit a title, right?” he couldn’t help but ask as he noted some of the older girls puffing up their curls and getting ready to jump in to make their claim.
“That’s what he said you would say,” the cute little thing clinging to Noah’s leg, who couldn’t be more than four, said as she jerked her thumb towards Shaun, who was sitting on a rock, eating a slice of bread smothered in jam and looking completely bored.
“He had it coming,” was all his son said as he finished off the slice of bread and shifted his attention back to the lunch pail by his feet.
“I see,” Robert said again, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched all the girls, ranging from two to sixteen heading for his eight-year-old son, who simply stood there while girls yanked and pulled on him, telling him that they loved him and promised him all the baked goods that he could eat while he stood there, glaring at him.
“Where’s your teacher?” he couldn’t help but wonder, hoping that the woman could get her class under control.
With a nod of his chin, Noah gestured behind him.
Sighing with relief, Robert turned around and-
“I made you a cake, Noah,” the plump woman that he really hoped wasn’t his son’s teacher said with a huge smile and a giggle that died a quick death when she spotted the competition.
“And I think we’re done here,” Robert said with a nod to himself as he reached over and plucked his son free only to wince when the action earned him a kick to the shin.
Sending the little brat a glare, he threw Noah over his shoulder, gestured for Shaun to get moving, grabbed the cake, and headed back the way they came, wondering how he was going to explain this to his wife.
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