Page 94 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Reason To Sing

no cowboy (like Mike). At least Mike is legit. And that’s how
it is here in Calgary. Lots of drugstore cowboys. My neighbour
has a medium build and is in pretty good shape for his age (yes,
I am starting to notice these things). On the weekends, he likes
to show off his arms and chest in a tight white t-shirt. His jeans
fit him pretty tight too. He is very bald. I know he shaves his
head. You can just tell. People on the street are already calling
him Kojak after that bald guy on TV.
Tonight I am babysitting for them and he greets me at the
front door. “Hey sweetheart, come on in!” He flashes a toothy
grin of pearly whites augmented by one gold one. I’m sure it’s
just for show.
As he opens the door wider, I feel his glare. He barely gives
me any space as I awkwardly attempt to slide in past him. His
cologne is bold and so is his body language. He opens his stance
toward me, keeping one hand on his belted hip. His shiny gold
wedding band is sparkling. On the other hand, a heavy gold
ring looks like it could knock your block off if he ever tried. A
flashy thick gold chain hangs around his neck, completing the
look.
I wonder why I’ve never noticed all this stuff before. I think
he is trying just a bit too hard to be cool. I’m sensing this guy
has a big ego. It’s just a feeling but he sure has given me the
creeps a few times with his stares and sexual comments. It
happened once when I was out washing my mom’s car and
another time when I was helping with some yard work. At first,
I felt flattered but eventually I was just embarrassed. Awkward
and uncomfortable. But just like when you walk past guys
at a construction site and they whistle, I never know how to
respond. So I did what I always do. Nothing.
“The Mrs. still isn’t quite ready yet,” he moves in closer.
“She’ll be down soon. Come on into the living room, Sweetie.”

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