Sunday Afternoon at the Ramsey’s
When Braedon arrived home after his date with Catherine on Sunday morning, he found his house empty. Tricia had told him that she’d be taking the girls to the church, so he figured they’d be back soon, probably in the early part of the afternoon.
After slipping on some comfortable clothing and a pair of flip flops, he made his way to the family room, plopping on top of his favorite reclining chair. Nothing like relaxing in solitude.
He turned on the television and flipped the channels until he landed on a show about the uber wealthy. That got his attention. Yachts. Mansions. Cars. A man with an upper class English accent moderated the show, which was designed to spur envy and desire from the masses and portray the wealthy as people who were living the ultimate dream. Braedon dozed off into his own very similar dreams.
A few minutes later, the garage door opened and he woke up to the sounds of the chirpy little voices of his girls.
“Daddy!” Kaylee called out as she ran into the house in her red and white strawberry sundress.
“Kaylee! How was Sunday school? I missed you.”
“I missed you too Daddy. Miss Jackie taught us a lot today about Jesus. He died for us on a cross.”
“Yes he did.”
“Daddy!” Haley called out as she entered the house from the garage in a sundress that matched her sister’s.
“Haley!” How was your day at Sunday school?
“Good Daddy. Why don’t you go to church? Don’t you want to learn about Jesus?”
“Yes, but I already know everything there is to know about Jesus.”
“You know everything Daddy. What’s for lunch? I’m hungry.”
Braedon looked out into the garage through the door, which had been left open by Haley. He didn’t see his wife. “Where’s Mommy?”
“She’s on the phone in her car.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I can make lunch. What do you want? Peanut, butter, and jelly sandwiches?”
“Yes,” both said in unison.
After pulling himself up from his comfy chair, he walked into the kitchen, where he grabbed the ingredients and plates to make the girls lunch. He cut up a couple of apples, poured milk, and placed their lunches on the kitchen table before he sat down alongside of them.
A few minutes later, Tricia walked into the kitchen.
“How was church?”
“Good. I just found out they need help this afternoon sorting the filled shoebox donations for the kids in Guatemala. I’m going to head over there in an hour, after I change into something more casual. You’ll be home to watch the girls, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll watch them. Gladly. When will you be back? What do you want to do for dinner?”
“I should be home around seven. There’s some leftover pizza and lasagna in the fridge. Are you okay with fending for ourselves tonight?”
“Sure, no problem. That’s a good way to save money.”
Without further comment, she left the room and headed towards their bedroom. Braedon noticed that she looked better than usual in her black pants and purple knit top. They fit her well, though they didn’t hide the weight she needed to lose. You could still see her bulging pregnant-looking stomach and tell that her legs were chunky.
“Church. She lives at that church,” he thought, feeling a spurt of resentment.
His little strawberry delights were by his side eating their sandwiches. “Girls, what do you want to do today? Want to go to the park?”
“Yeah!”
***
Braedon stood behind Haley and Kaylee on the swings and pushed them. Their strawberry blonde hair blew in the wind as they giggled in delight. They were beauties and he was lucky to have them in his life.
Catherine would be a nice addition to his life too. He pictured himself in the Hatteras with her at his side and the girls just behind him as he steered the boat along the bay. The girls would love the Hatteras.
“Do you like boats?”
“Yeah, I love boats,” Kaylee answered.
“Me too. Are we going to go boating?”
“Hopefully sometime soon. Hopefully.”
Braedon thought of his wife. She needed to be out of the picture. How could he make that happen? He’d already told Catherine and her son that his wife had died of cancer, but she was very much alive. Would killing her be the solution? Or could he simply make her disappear?
It wasn’t like he had a squeaky clean police record, but his felony was for something much different than murder. He’d dealt marijuana in college, just to pay his bills since his parents couldn’t help him out. At first, he sold small bags of marijuana to friends only, but he soon progressed into much larger quantities, which he sold to friends, and friends of friends. Soon he found himself rubbing elbows with major drug dealers and that’s when the cops stepped in and snagged him.
“People are much more lenient about marijuana today,” he thought.
He’d never told Tricia about the marijuana problems he’d had; she probably wouldn’t have married him. She was squeaky clean.
Maybe he could convince Tricia to go away on her own. Divorce him. Move on.
But he wanted full custody of the girls with her child support, of course. Then again, if he set up camp with Catherine, child support from Tricia wouldn’t be necessary. Still wanted full custody. Tricia wouldn’t give that to him without a battle.
How could he let Catherine know he had kids? He never told Catherine he didn’t have kids. He just said his wife had died of cancer. How could he explain that she didn’t actually die and was still very much living? Should he say that he had two previous wives: one alive and a second who’d died of cancer?
“Complicated. I’ll need to work on a story,” he thought.
He sent Catherine a text message, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you. When can I see you again?”
No reply. Maybe she didn’t hear the chirp on her phone. Maybe her phone was in another room. His mind turned to his daughters as he pushed them on the swings.
“Higher Daddy, push higher!”
“Okay, hold on,” he said to Haley as he pulled her swing back and launched it high into the air.
“Me too. Push me high,” Kaylee shouted.
“Okay, here goes.”
As he pulled Kaylee back on her swing, his phone chirped. After he released her, he pulled it from his pocket and read Catherine’s message. “I’d like to see you soon too, but I’m just too busy this week with work.”
“Hold on girls,” he said as he backed up from the swing set to text Catherine back. “Soon works for me, but now would be better.”
Hopefully he didn’t come across as desperate. Maybe he should have waited a few minutes before sending the message. No chirps. No reply yet.
His thoughts returned to his wife, the baggage. How could he get rid of the excess baggage?
A minute later his phone chirped. “I’ll try. Have to travel on Thursday. Will try to see you after I return.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting for your call.”