Through His Eyes

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Through His Eyes is a short story seen through the eyes of the man. What he experience and how he felt when he fell in love. I hope that you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Romance / Other
4.8 5 reviews
Age Rating:

I Am In Love

This is a short love story. I hope that you enjoy it.

Hello, my name is Maddox Wellington and I am 57 years old. You must be wondering why this 57 year old man is interested in telling his story. Well, I will tell you why. I feel the need to share how I met the love of my life.

I was born in the year 1965 and in the year 1975 when I was 10 years old, my parents decided to move from sunny Florida to the cold of what is famously known as Pennsylvania, but in the very posh suburbs. My mother, Penelope Wellington was offered a teaching job as a 4th grade teacher. Wanting to make my mother happy, my father William Wellington transferred his medical career and opened his own clinic that stood four stories. The first floor was pediatrics, the second floor was for OB GYN, the third for labs such as blood work, X-rays and MRI and the last floor was the cafeteria with outdoor balconies with sitting areas. This is where he met fellow colleague Dr. Farrow. He was a pediatrician and has two children of his own. He was a single father. His wife had passed away when his youngest child was only three years old leaving him solely responsible to raise his children.

I was placing books in the bookshelf when my dad walked in the front door. He greeted me, then went straight to the kitchen where my mom was finishing up cooking dinner. She was licking something off her thumb when he gently placed his hand on the side of her head and kissed her forehead making mom smile up at him. My dad was never embarrassed or afraid to show his love for my mom. He showered her with attention and spoiled her to no avail. He would do anything for her and proved it when we moved because he knew it’s what she wanted to further her career. He never stood in her way or tried to control her. The man loved and respected his wife and to hell what others may think.

I once asked my dad how he met my mom and when did he know she was the one. My dad smiled as his eyes shone brightly as he watched her walk by him several times minding her own business. He said that he met my mom in an RV Park when he, his siblings and his parents took a road trip. They set up a campfire to roast marshmallows after they ate dinner and were just talking and laughing. Then she appeared with a bunch of twigs in her hands heading towards her campsite. My dad said from the moment he looked into her big brown eyes, he was a goner. He was only 14 years old at the time, but he knew that she was the one. He told me that he followed her, which wasn’t far from where he and his family were and offered to carry the twigs for her. From there, they swapped their phone numbers and wrote to each other for the next few years. Long story short, they went to the same college and the rest is history.

All three of us sat together at the dinner table and talked about our day. Mom and I will begin school on Monday so we tried to get as much done this weekend as possible. I made sure to hook up my bedroom first. I placed my favorite posters of Aerosmith, ACDC and Black Sabbath on my light blue walls. The next thing I tackled was the garage which had my punching bag and other boxing gear. I may have only been 10 years old, but I was a hell of a boxer. My dad signed me up one year at my school during the Summer and let’s just say, I grew to love it. My mother hated it, but since it made me happy, she kept her protest to herself.

After dinner, we sat in the living room, my dad turning on the TV to watch the NEWS as he held my mom close to his side. He then looked at her getting her attention. “My coworker Dr. Joe Farrow invited us to have dinner with him and his family tomorrow on Sunday. I told him that I will confirm with you first and let him know.”

My mom clapped, smiled up at him and nodded her confirmation. “I will make a casserole and bake some chocolate chip cookies.” She kissed his cheek making him smile. “Where does he live?”

“He lives across the street actually.” He pointed towards the living room window that faced a two story brick house. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow morning.” He turned to me. “He has a son your age that also boxes. I think you boys will be great friends.” I only nodded. He then yawned as he stretched out his very long limbs. My dad is a very tall man. He stood at 6’ 4, muscular build, dark hair and blue eyes. I was his replica in the years to come, only I had chocolate color eyes like my mom. My mom wasn’t a short woman. She stood at 5’10 and had long blond hair. At only 10 years of age, I was her height. My mom placed her hand into dad’s outstretched hand and they left together both saying good night to me and not to go to bed too late.

I woke up the following morning at 7am. It was my routine as a boxer. I went downstairs to eat a hearty breakfast that my dad had already prepared for me as he sat at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and reading the paper. When I was done, we both went into the garage and began my training. The garage door was opened allowing the warm air breeze to float around us. It was very sunny outside and some people were out gardening or walking their dogs. I had my cassette tape of Aerosmith playing as I trained, ignoring the world outside of my garage. It was already 11am when dad and I went for a jog.

When we got home, mom scrunched up her face as our manly odors wafted up her nose. The look on her face was enough to know we had to shower. Dad and I only laughed, kissed on her cheek, dad on the right, me on the left as we passed by her. Later that evening, we were dressed and ready to head across the street to Dr. Joe Farrow’s house. My dad rang the doorbell as my mom smoothed out creases that didn’t exist on her dress. When the door opened, a man with a smile welcomed us in. He shook my dad’s hand first, then my mom then me. Dr. Joe Farrow was my and my mom’s height, only she was a little taller because she wore heels. Dr. Joe Farrow thanked her as he took the casserole and baked chocolate chip cookies from her and placed it on the table that was set up nicely. I heard a door open and walked in his son. “Hey, my name is Mo.” He introduced himself to my parents first, then me.

“I’m Maddox.” We were sizing each other up, but knew right away that we were going to be best buds. “Come on, let’s go to the basement. I have a game room setup there.” I looked at my parents for permission. When they nodded, I followed Mo. “Dad, yell for us when dinner is ready.” When we made it downstairs, my eyes bulged at all the gear and games he had. There was an air hockey table, ping pong table, a big TV. What caught my attention the most was the punching bag Mo had in the far corner of the basement. He also had weights along with a jump rope. “We should train together some time.” He spoke to me as he handed me over a soda pop. I took it with a smile and twisted the cap off with my bare hands.

“We should. I train mostly with my dad, but it will be cool to have more people to train with.” I sat on the leather sofa. “Does the school offer boxing?”

“Yeah it does.” He sat down taking a swig. “I used to get into so much trouble at school for having fights, so when the gym teacher brought up boxing, it helped me channel my anger on the bag and not on some poor boys face.” He laughed as he shrugged his shoulders.

I could only agree with him on that. The kids back in my old school in Florida would test me and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in the Principal’s office with my parents scolding me. We heard Dr. Joe Farrow called out for us to eat dinner. Mo and I ran upstairs. I don’t know about him, but I was starving. The table was round making it easy for all of us to have an interactive conversation. My dad sat to Dr. Joe Farrow’s left and my mom on his right. I sat next to dad, Mo next to me, then there was an empty chair between my mom and Mo. As if reading my mind, Dr. Joe Farrow spoke up. “My daughter is very shy.” He smiled apologetically. “I’ll go get her. Excuse me.” Dr. Joe Farrow got up and headed up the stairs to retrieve his shy daughter.

“How old is she?” My mom asked Mo.

“She’s nine.” He answered her with a smile. “She’s very shy like dad said. It’s hard for her to meet new people.”

“Oh? Why is that? Doesn’t she have friends that come over?” My mom’s curiosity gets the best of her.

“My sister doesn’t have any friends...all the girls in school...hate her.” Mo swallowed. “They’re all mean to her and because she’s so shy, she doesn’t fight back. So they take advantage of her.”

“That’s horrible.” My dad stated in disbelief. “She’s only a child...a baby.” This news made my parents upset and wanted to meet the little girl now more than ever. I was upset too. I hated bullies, just like my mother.

“Well, that nonsense will stop now that I will be teaching there. I’m the new fourth grade teacher. I’m taking over for Mrs. Sanders.”

“Oh that’s great. Mrs. Sanders was her teacher.” My mom was about to say something else when we heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Dr. Joe Farrow held his daughter’s hand who had her head hanging down letting her long brown hair cover her face. She walked practically glued to her father. She took her seat between Mo and my mom, still not looking up.

“Say hello to our guest baby girl.” Dr. Joe Farrow softly spoke. We all heard a soft whispered hello.

My mom smiled at the little girl. “What is your name sweetheart?”

It took her a while to answer, but then she did in the cutest voice I have ever heard. “Amberlene.”

“Amberlene? What a beautiful name.” My father said smiling at a child who hasn’t made any form of eye contact.

“Amberlene, honey. It’s rude not to look at our guests when you are spoken to.” Dr. Joe Farrow said softly. She slowly raised her head to give a full view of her face. At that moment, my heart thumped in my chest so hard, I thought it would break through my ribs and fall on the table. I’ve never seen such a beautiful girl in my life and I’ve seen girls. I go to school with a bunch of them and none of them can hold a candle to Amberlene. She had full pink lips, a small button nose, long dark brown eyelashes and brows, but what I found the most beautiful were her eyes. I believe it’s called heterochromia. Her right eye was the color of Amber and her left was a caribbean green, like crystal green water. Her cheeks burned red as she whispered a thank you to my parents.

“Oh my!” My mother gasped. “You are beautiful!” My dad nodded in agreement. I couldn’t do anything but stare at her. Her eyes turned to me, then she blushed, bit her lower lip and put her head down again. I wanted her to look at me. I wanted to see her face and look into her amazing eyes. Everyone began eating and talking as I was lost in my own world that only consisted of me and Amberlene. Now I know what my dad meant when he knew after seeing my mom that she was it for him. This is what he felt and it feels amazing. I may only be 10 years old, but I know that I am in love and her name is Amberlene.

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