After filing his company for bankruptcy, Kyle's wife leaves him and his three-year-old son. Now a forty-two-year-old divorcee with no parenting skills or money, Kyle decides to move back to the small home town he grew up in.
He should have lost all...
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Throughout the next few weeks, Kyle picked Otis up from preschool. The toddler would rattle on about what he did in school, and Kyle couldn't help the tinge of curiosity that would spark in him anytime the boy mentioned Chaska. His son seemed to be fond of the teacher, and he now started most of his sentences with 'Chaska said' and 'Chaska did.' Kyle would just nod along as he spoke, humming from time to time so that the little one didn't feel ignored.
At first, he had been a little confused about how fixated his son was with the teacher, but his mother had told him that that was normal for children. They often liked their parents the most, and then their teacher, but it seemed it was the other way around in this case, though. Otis liked Chaska more.
Was Kyle a little jealous? Maybe, but he was also grateful. It was nice to see his son being eager to talk. For the past few days he had wanted to talk to Chaska about it, but the man kept their interactions and their exchange of words short, and Kyle never really knew when to bring it up.
"Chaska made a paper bird!" Otis said after Kyle picked him up from school on Friday. The boy jumped around as he waved the little paper bird he had in his hands. It was a pink chicken, and Kyle wasn't sure if he should tell Otis that chickens didn't fly. They were downstairs by the post office now, and Kyle was trying to get Otis to stop hopping around so that he could take him into the daycare.
"It's a pretty bird," Kyle said, watching Otis skip around.
"I know!"
Otis turned around, holding the paper bird in the air. His t-shirt was riding up his stomach, and his shorts hiked up as he stood up on his tippy toes, trying to get the bird as high up as possible—which wasn't very far.
Some women smiled at Otis as they walked past, giving Kyle a wave. Kyle returned their smiles, even though they made him feel uncomfortable. That was the thing with young children. It was like having a pet everyone stared at as they walked by.
"Come one, enough of that, let's get you in the car," Kyle said, reaching down to pluck the paper bird from his son's hand before lifting the boy up from the ground. "I'll give it back to you when we get home," Kyle said in a soft voice before Otis could cry. It amazed him how much tone mattered. He had started copying his grandmother's tone when talking to Otis, and it made their interactions a lot smoother. He helped Otis into the carrier chair in the back before getting into the driver's seat and starting up the car's engine and driving into the main road.
Before they could head home, Kyle had to drop by his mother's grocery store to pick up some things. He pulled up at the small parking space before helping Otis out of his seat and dropping him on the concrete floor.
"We're going to see grandma, then get cookies before we go home," Kyle explained, looking at his son who was squinting into the parking lot as his blond curls got tossed about by the wind. At the sound of cookies his son grinned, clapping his hands in excitement. The grocery store was an old place that shared its building with the local bakery. It was early in the afternoon now. Preschool ended at two in the afternoon, and it was currently around four-thirty.
