CHAPTER 9
The following Tuesday I had an appointment with my father's physician, Dr. Whitlach. He had me sign a release so that copies of my medical records with Dr. Addison could be electronically sent to him. He went ahead and prescribed the same anti-depressant that Dr. Addison had prescribed for me last year. He also recommended a grief-counseling group that met once a week and provided me with their leaflet as to time and place for the meetings.
After my doctor's appointment I went to the styling salon where I had my hair returned to its previous color, highlights and all. That itself had made me feel better immediately. I knew the anti-depressant would take a couple of weeks to fully kick-in.
After getting my prescription filled I stopped at a department store and purchased some training pants and pull-ups for Preston. I decided to use the pull-ups at night and the regular training pants during the day at least initially. I had checked on-line for some potty training tips.
I drove my dad's car back to the estate. He was not in court today so he stayed with Preston while I was out. When I got back home they were playing in the living room together. Dad was showing her how to build a fort with her colorful plastic blocks. Once they finished the fort she climbed on his back and they charged the gate knocking all of the blocks down. It was humorous watching my dad on all fours playing 'horsey' while Preston was on his back, rocking back and forth and squealing with delight.
"How many times have you knocked the fort down Dad?" I asked grinning.
"More times that I can count," he laughed. "She is wearing her grandpa out."
Preston was gathering up the blocks to stack.
"Gain Papaw, gain?"
"Preston why don't we give Grandpa a break? I bought you some big girl panties today. How about we change?"
"Kay Mommie," she said.
"Did you hear that?" I said smiling, "She called me 'Mommie' instead of Maama!"
I took her upstairs and removed her diaper. It was still dry. That meant I needed to put her on the potty now to see if I could get her to 'pee-pee.' I decided that was the word I wanted to use. The on-line tips suggested a word be used consistently with the child to represent urinating and another one for having a bowel movement.
I walked her into the bathroom and asked her to sit on her potty. I ran some water in the sink which supposedly helped with the process. She looked up at me and giggled. I gave it a couple of minutes and then went over and lifted her up. Sure enough she had deposited some yellow 'pee-pee' into the bowl.
"Good girl Preston. You pee-peed like a big girl in your potty," I praised. "See?"
She looked down at her potty and pointed.
"Doodee," she shrieked happily.
"No honey, that is 'pee-pee,' I said.
"Doodee," she said firmly.
(Whatever - I guess with potty training it was best to pick your battles. I wasn't going to get into a war of words with her.)
"Preston is a good girl."
I got toilet paper and showed her how to wipe.
I put a pull-up on her until I could get the new cotton training pants laundered. I waited until she was out in my room playing before I emptied the bowl and flushed away her 'doodee' not wanting her to get upset like she had the day before.
I had a sudden urge to share with Trey what she had accomplished. Then I remembered we weren't really talking much. I hadn't heard from him since I had called him Saturday evening. I had talked to Gina once since then and she said that he and Tristan had not made up yet so she wasn't sure how Trey was doing.
I stuck close to the house for the next couple of days working with Preston on the potty-training and interviewing for Danny's replacement. My father had entrusted me with that responsibility probably because I was the main reason he had an open position to fill.
By Friday I had made my selection for Danny's replacement. He was a man in his early fifties named Ronnie Mitchell. He had great references and Larry had liked him best out of all of the candidates. I had insisted on Larry's input since they would be working together. He would start the following Monday which worked out perfectly since that was the day Matthew's trial was starting. The jury selection had finished up along with opening statements. On Monday the prosecution would begin hearing testimony.
At dinner on Friday my father asked if I had heard anything from Trey. I told him I had not heard anything from him since I had called him the previous Saturday.
"I'm getting a bit tired of this nonsense," he commented.
"What nonsense Dad? I made the last move now it’s his turn."
"No daughter; now I think it is my turn."
"Whoa Dad, hold on one minute. I thought you weren't the type to interfere in my personal business?"
"When it comes to my granddaughter I will damn well interfere," he said. "No matter what is going on between you and Trey or Trey and you, Preston is not a part of that."
He was downright ticked off at the moment. I decided it was best I kept quiet. He was going to do what he was going to do no matter what. Besides, I kind of liked the idea of my dad giving Trey a butt-chewing on Preston's behalf.
I looked over at Preston who was sitting next to him in her high chair. She was eating some sliced banana which was a favorite. She must have sensed she was the center of attention she gave me a big grin squeezing out mushy banana through her teeth.
"Oh Preston yuck," I said getting up and going over to her with my napkin.
I was dabbing up her face and hands when I heard her start chattering.
"Doodee, Mommie."
(Uh oh - I needed to move fast!)
I lifted her quickly from her high chair and high-tailed it upstairs with her.
I realized that I had lost the race when I heard her grunt loudly as I reached the upstairs hallway.
"Doodee, doodee," she whined now feeling uncomfortable in her cotton panties.
"Yes sweetie, I can smell it from here."
I got her cleaned up and put her on the potty to see if she needed to pee-pee. It took several minutes but she complied with high praise from me. I put her in clean panties and we retreated back downstairs.
"I take it she didn't make it to the potty," my father observed with a chuckle. "I'll get another potty chair for her down here."
"By the way," he added, "Trey will be here tomorrow morning and will stay through Monday afternoon."
"How do you know?" I asked perplexed. I had only been gone for ten or fifteen minutes.
"I called him," he replied. "Trey now knows how I roll."
I giggled silently wishing that I had been a fly on the wall during that phone conversation. It would be hard to determine who could top whom in stubbornness between the two men in my life.
Something inside of me fluttered at the thought of seeing Trey again. I guessed it was my dormant butterflies. I hoped that they wouldn't be disappointed. I had no clue as to how Trey was feeling about me these days. I had an idea I would be finding out tomorrow.
After getting Preston bathed and put to bed for the night I took a leisurely bubble bath. I waxed and shaved; gave myself a pedicure and a facial. My hair looked much better now than it had when he was last here. I even felt better with the antidepressants starting to work a bit already.
I slept soundly that night dreaming of Trey and what I hoped would take place during his visit.