I pull into the parking lot of the studio. I’m early, as usual. I park my car and sit there for a moment. Suddenly another car pulls in, the radio blasting. Their car is booming from the sound of the bass. They park a few spaces down from me. I see three really young passengers get out from the car. After a few seconds the driver gets out. Their car is still on and blaring music. I watch them as they dance and sing around the car. The driver is holding a cigarette that is half gone. He sits on the trunk of his car as his other friends dance. There are two females and one other male not counting the driver. The other boy sits on the trunk next to the driver and takes a puff off his cigarette. The girls dance in sync with each other like there is a specific dance moves to that song. The boys laugh and sing, as the girls continue to dance. Finally the driver slides off the trunk, walks over to his car, and turns off the engine, killing the music.
“You’re such a bitch!” I hear one of the girls yell while laughing. They must be joking. All four of them walk up to each other and stand in what looks like an awkward circle.
“So Kody, who are you meeting today?” I hear one of the girls ask, as I roll up my windows and get out of my car. I stand there for a second and continue to watch them.
“Holland Meyers.” The driver says.
“Not uh! You did not get her! That is so fucking awesome!” I hear one if the girls say with excitement. Wow. I didn’t know I still connected with such a young audience.
“I know right” I hear Kody say. I decided to stop spying on them and walk into the studio. As I walk in the doorway it hits me, I’m supposed to meet the writer today, and her name is Kody Carson. That cannot be the same Kody. I could’ve sworn Marshall told me the writer was female, But I could be wrong. He looked way too young to write such a serious television show. I spot the director, a personal friend of mine, Marshall. I walk over to him.
“Holland!” He says excitedly. “How are you?”
“I’m really good.” I answer.
“How are your boys?”
“They’re great. They’re both doing really well in school, and David decided he wants to join the seventh grade hockey team.”
“That’s great! I’m sure Richard is ecstatic.”
“He is.” As I say that Kody and his passengers who were dancing and singing earlier enter.
“Kody!” Marshall says loudly to get his attention. He looks over and him, and motions for him to come over. Him and his poise of friends, I guess you would call it, all walk over together.
“Kody, this is Holland Meyers. Holland, this is our writer, Kody Carson.” Kody reaches out his hand gesturing me to shake hands with her.
“I don’t bite.” He says as he shoots a smile at me. “Well, I don’t bite often.” I give him a fake smile and shake hands with him. There’s something about him. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but there is defiantly something about him. Marshall at that instant wants to see how we will work together.
One Year Later
I hear one of the boys run down the stairs as I pour myself a cup of coffee. Rich enters the kitchen and stands behind me. He wraps his arms around me, I turn my head and he kisses me.
“Good morning.” He says. I smile and grab another coffee mug out of the cabinet for him. I pour him a cup as well. He lets go of me, grabs his cup and heads for the kitchen table. My youngest enters the kitchen, and walks over to me.
“Mommy, what’s for breakfast?” He asks. I can’t help but smile when I hear Mason still call me mommy. With him being eight, he still believes his parents are cool. David on the other hand who’s thirteen doesn’t share his enthusiasm, and the word mommy don’t really get muttered by him anymore
“There’s cereal, or oatmeal, and I think there’s waffles in the freezer.”
“Cereal.” He says and walks over to the pantry. David enters the kitchen and walks right past me. He sits down at the table next to Rich.
“Do you want breakfast?” I ask him. He does what’s typical for a teenager, and ignores me. So I ask again. “Do you want breakfast?” He shrugs.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Are you sure? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Yes mom.” He acts like he’s annoyed that I even talked to him.
“Be nice to your mom.” Rich demands to him. “She’s the reason you exist.” I love my husband. He’s always been the one to stand up for me.
“Who’s taking us to school?” David asks. I look over to Rich.
“Don’t worry about it.” He says. “I’ll take the boys to school.”
© Copyright 2016 Ryin Kelsin. All rights reserved.
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