by S. L. Scott
She dabs her eyes with tissues and then to him, she nods my way. When he comes running back, I feel her eyes on me and look up. Giving her a little wave, I open the door for him. “Climb in.”
He asks, “How about ice cream?”
I laugh. “Nice try, kid. Dinner first. Ice cream after.”
“Oh, man,” he says, sounding disappointed as we start walking again. “I thought this would be fun.”
“Fun and spoiled are two different things.”
“That’s what Hannah always says.”
“Hannah’s pretty wise.”
“She’s pretty, too,” he says, surprising me.
Chuckling, I nudge his shoe with mine. “You’re too young to be into girls.”
Tulsa adds, “Anyway, she’s your cousin, Alfie. That means off-limits.”
Alfie’s quick to reply, “For me, but for Jet she’s on-limits.”
After the shock wears off that he actually just said that, I ruffle his hair. “Hey,” I start, “what do you know about on-limits?”
“I’m six, not dumb. I know all about the birds and the bees. Grandma has HBO.”
Good grief, this kid. He’s going to keep me on my toes. Goodbye single days. Hello parenting. “Remind me to cancel Cinemax, Rivers.”
Rivers laughs as I slide into the back after Alfie, as he takes the passenger seat. My legs are cramped back here, and I’m tempted to kick my little brother out of the prime real estate up front, but this transition time with Alfie is important. So I stay after I give a hard shove with my knee into the back of the seat. “A little legroom would be nice.”
“Welcome to my world, bro.”
This is like living in an alternate universe. I’m usually the one in charge, but things have changed dramatically over the last week. I’ll be in charge, but it’s not just my brothers and me anymore. Life won’t be all fun and games, playing music late into the night, or going home with a chick after a gig when the right opportunities come around.
Surprisingly, I’m not bothered by the change. Alfie comes first.
7
Jet
I’m a sucker for those big eyes and little dimples when he smiles. Alfie got his wish. After we finish two scoops of ice cream with whipped cream and chocolate sauce, I sit back and rub my stomach. “Not sure I’m going to have room for dinner now.”
Alfie mimics me, even groaning a little like I did. “Yeah, I might just hit the hay.”
I laugh. He’s got a good sense of humor. “It’s been a big day. You okay?”
“I guess. I—” He looks around the living room.
I don’t live in a particularly nice house, but it’s been home for a few years. Affordable. Decent neighborhood. Low bills that allow me to live alone instead of with my brothers, who share a place a few miles away. I never needed much but looking at him makes me want to give him more. “You what, buddy?”
His shoulders sag, and he looks down at his lap, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt. “Hannah said I should be grateful to have so many people who love me. I got uncles too, but . . .”
“But?”
“I miss my mom.”
“I’m sure you do. I lost my mom too. I know it hurts a lot.” I pull him close just as he begins to sniffle. His head is tucked against my side, and I add, “We don’t know each other well, but I’m here for you, Alfie. I’m not just your dad, but also a friend. You can talk to me about anything, including your mom and your feelings.”
He looks up, tears welling over his bottom lids and falling down his cheeks. “My mommy said if I didn’t have her, I’d have you; that you and Hannah would take care of me.”
Comments like this and the “lucky to have you” one from the other day surprise me, considering all the bad things Hannah’s been told about me. Cassie apparently hated me, but she didn’t turn our kid against me. I guess I should be thankful for small favors.
I still wish I could have been there for him, for her even, all along. Been there when she got sick. Met Hannah the way we should have. Maybe then things wouldn’t be like they are now. “I will. We’re in this together.” I hope Hannah and I can work together.
He asks, “What’s this?”
“Life.”
“We’re in life together?”
“Yes. Our blood bonds us. The blood that runs through me runs through you. That makes us family. And family always sticks together.”
For a little kid, he seems to have a deep understanding beyond his years. He nods, a shared knowing look between us.
The stress from today must just be too much because the sugar rush never comes. When he yawns, I check the time. Just after eight. Hannah would flip if she knew he was up this late. “C’mon, I think that ice cream can tide you over until tomorrow. It’s late, and it’s been a long day. Time for bed.”
We make our way to his room. As he stands in the center, I open his bag and dig out his toothbrush and paste. “Bathroom’s across the hall. Are you potty trained?”
“I’m not a baby,” he replies defensively.
Throwing my hands up in surrender, I try to restrain my smile. “Okay. Okay. I didn’t know.”
While he brushes his teeth, I pull his nightlight out and plug it in. His stuffed Snoopy is tossed on the bed, and pajamas are set out. We muddle through the routine without issue, and when he climbs into bed, I kneel next to him. “Hey Alfie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m new to all this dad stuff. Maybe you can help me out and show me the ropes to parenting a big boy.”
“Didn’t your dad show you?”
“Long story for another day.”
His hand touches my nose and then his own. “Will my nose be big like yours?”
Reactively grabbing my nose, I ask, “Is it that big?”
He giggles his answer. “Bigger than mine.”
I tap his nose. “That is a fact. As for size, I think yours will grow to be the size you’re meant to have.”
“You’re tall. Uncle Tulsa and Uncle Rivers are tall. Mom was small like Hannah. Will I be big or small?”
“Only time will tell. The one thing I do know is that we won’t find out tonight. We can measure you tomorrow and start keeping track, but you need to get some sleep tonight.”
“I didn’t make ramen noodles. Since we’re in life together, I can make them tomorrow.”
Chuckling, I pull the covers higher to his chin. “Yes, we’re in life together.” I kiss the top of his head and kneel back. It reminds me of how my mom used to kiss my head at bedtime, and how much I missed that once I was too old for her to do it. How much I missed when she told me she loved me. Alfie will never receive that kiss from his mom again or hear her tell him she loves him, and it breaks my heart. Technically, I’ve only known him minutes, but already, he’s in my heart. “Is it too soon to tell you I love you?”
“Mommy told me that you should always tell people you love them if you feel it. I wish I could tell her.”
“Don’t worry, buddy. She knows.” Kissing his head, I say, “I love you.”
“I like you, Jet.”
I smile. We’ll get there in time. “Good night.”
“Night.”
After shutting the door, I walk back into the living room and stand there, not sure what I’m supposed to do. Is this what it’s like to be a parent? Never knowing what to do next and winging it day by day?
I look back toward the bedroom where Alfie is sleeping. A week ago, I thought we’d lost the biggest opportunity of our lives. Johnny Outlaw was there and then gone the next song.
When Hannah walked in, the words she said would change my life forever—you have a son—and I realized right then the opportunity I had been given.
Just a week after meeting him, I’m now worrying daily about the son I want to get to know and how I’m going to provide for him. I can’t scrape by anymore. It’s not just about me. If the advance from Outlaw Records isn’t enough, do I give up my dreams to give my kid what he needs?
I’ll do whatever I need to do. I’ll do everything my father never did.
My phone buzzes with a text. When I look down, I see Hannah’s name. Seeing it flash on my screen reminds me of the sadness I’m used to seeing in her eyes. I feel it inside me. Despite the good of discovering that this little person exists in my world, something missing still remains.
The text buzzes again. How’s Alfie settling in?
She’s tenacious. It’s only been three hours since she saw him, so I can already tell this woman is going to drive me mad. I may be new at this parenting thing, but damn, give me a chance to screw up before you harass me.
Before I have time to respond, a shadow crosses my front window. Tossing my phone on the couch, I open the door, and find the woman taking up too many of my thoughts pacing my porch. “Can’t resist me?” I wing it with a bad line.
“You wish,” Hannah snaps, stopping and crossing her arms over her chest.
Leaning against the doorframe, I mimic her arm position, and smirk. “Then to what do I owe the displeasure?”
“I was worried about Alfie. You didn’t text me.”
My brow shoots to the sky. “I didn’t know I was supposed to. Anyway, you didn’t give me much of a chance.” My annoyance comes out with a sigh. “For the record, he’s fine.” Refusing to give her ammo against me on night one, I give her all she needs, “We had dinner, and he went to bed.”
Her body loses the fight, and she appears to relax for the first time since the night we first met. She’s been so uptight this last week, understandably so, but I still don’t think it’s warranted. I’m tempted to offer her a beer and some company, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea, though. “I should go back inside. It’s getting late.”
“You don’t normally play until after ten. Eight thirty must be early for you.”
The little hint of sarcasm in her tone betrays the curiosity in her eyes. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I drop my defenses. “I don’t want to argue with you, Hannah.”
“I shouldn’t have come here. I just . . . I was thinking about Cassie.”
“I’ve been thinking about her a lot as well.”
Her eyes close and reopen with what looks like tears filling them. “She was an amazing mother. She would push herself harder than she should have in the end just to be there for him as much as she could.”
I’m starting to see the crack in her armor. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I thought I would feel better if I was close to him because I miss him already.”
“This is new territory for both of us. We have to work together for the next sixty days, but I need you to let me get to know Alfie. I had the first six years taken from me, so I want this time with him to matter. I need it to build our relationship.”
“You’re right. You deserve that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right that you’re here. He was good tonight and settled in easily. It could have been the opposite, and it might be tomorrow, but we’re all taking it day by day.” Looking at her car in my driveway, I realize she remembered the way. “It’s good to see you again.”
The nicety seems to give her pause, but as if the weight of the world returns, she squares her body to me. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She rushes for the steps.
“Hey, Hannah?”
Keeping her back to me, she looks over her shoulder.
“I won’t keep him from you.”
Her gaze moves ahead of her when she turns away. “Thanks,” she whispers. I’m tempted to say more just to see her eyes again, but then she leaves.
At one time, I had the nerve to ask her to stay. She didn’t. This time, I don’t ask, and I don’t watch her leave. I move inside, lock the door behind me, and then decide to make the most of a rare night at home. I go to bed because I have a feeling I’m going to be up early.
8
Jet
“Jet . . . Jet . . . Jeeet?”
Daylight infiltrates my darker dreams, and my eyes slowly open to find two little green peepers so close that I startle. “Fuck.”
“You swear.”
“Shit. Sorry.” Fuck. I can’t swear in front of Alfie. “What are you doing in here?”
“Daylight’s burnin’. That’s what Grandma says.”
“What time is it?” I try to look around him to the nightstand, but his hair is pretty crazy, exactly like mine in the morning. “Do you shower in the morning?”
“I take a bath at night when Hannah makes me. Are you going to make me?”
Chuckling, I ruffle his hair up even more. “Yep.”
“Dang.”
Climbing onto the bed, he says, “I thought it would be more fun being here,” and sits next to me.
I adjust my pillows and lean against the wall. “Hopefully, it will be fun, but I also have to make sure you’re clean, healthy, and a good human.”
“What’s a good human?”
“A good human is a person who is nice and treats others well.”
He reaches over and ruffles my hair, making me laugh. “Are you a good or bad human, Jet?”
I pause. I’m good inside. I live a life I’m not ashamed of, but I have regrets. Looking at him, I wonder if maybe I am bad, at least for him, like his grandma and Hannah think. “I do my best to treat others the way I like to be treated.”
“What does that mean?”
“You ask a lot of questions. I think I need coffee before we keep going.”
Perking up, he says, “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”
My eyes go wide. “You made coffee?”
“You have a big bed.”
“I’m a big guy, but let’s get back to the coffee.”
“Hannah needs coffee in the morning before she does anything. She says grown-ups need it to function.”
“She’s right.” Reaching over, I pull him close and give him a little noogie on the head. “You’re a handful.” He’s giggling while I flip the covers off and grab Alfie, holding him over my shoulder. “C’mon you. Coffee for me. Milk for you.”
Wiggling and full of more giggles, he squeals. When I set him down on top of the bar, I ask, “Hungry?”
“I ate cereal.”
“You know how to make cereal?”
“I’m six, not a—”
“Not a baby. Gotcha.” I pull eggs and milk out of the fridge to scramble, and a mixing bowl and fork. Alfie’s eyes stay on me. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m new to him or if he’s just not used to having a man around. “You’ll be honest with me, right, Alfie?”
“Yes. Lying is bad.”
“Yes, lying is bad. I’m going to ask you a lot of questions like you ask me. I want you to know you can always be honest. You won’t get in trouble for telling the truth.” I look up after I pour the eggs in a pan on top of the hot stove. “You can ask me anything you want to know as well. This is new for both of us. What do you say we work as a team?”
He hops off the counter. “I’ve never been on a team before.”
“No sports?”
“No. It was too much money and too much time away from my mom when she was sick. That’s what Grandma would say.”
“What about Hannah?”
“Hannah wasn’t there yet. When Mom got really sick, Grandma had Hannah come live with us.”
“When was that? Do you remember?”
“My birthday. She took me to the zoo.”
“August fifth.” I mentally tally how many months back from this month, March, that is. Seven. We hooked up Labor Day weekend. What made her go out that night?
Hannah was struggling, wanting to forget what was happening for one night. If only I’d known then, maybe I could have helped. Maybe our conversation would have led me to her cousin and Alfie.
Regrets. If I could have a redo . . . Looking at this brave kid, I ask, “Do you have photos of your mom?”
Dashing off before I barely finish, I wor
ry I’ve upset him. I click off the burner and start for the hall when he comes running out of his room and right back to the kitchen. Holding up photos, he says, “I have these.”
“Come show me.” I sit on the couch, and he sits next to me, not even denting the cushion he’s so little. Makes me wonder if he’s the size of most six-year-olds or if he’s on the smaller side. My mom told me I was a big baby but a small child. High school was good to me. College even better.
Crows are built big.
Mentally, I add his health and medical history to my checklist of things to do and research. “What do you have there? Photos?”
“This one was when my mom had me. That’s me. The baby in her arms. She was happy that day. See her smile?”
I haven’t seen Cassie since the day we ended our relationship. Seeing her again reminds me of how beautiful she was—dark blond hair and those green eyes she shares with Alfie. Taking the photo in hand, I say, “I bet you were the happiest day of her life.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Was I the happiest day of your life?”
Seeing the anticipation in his expression, the hope in his eyes, and those dimples, I nod. “Meeting you was the best day of my life, Alfie.” It’s not a realization. It’s a feeling deep inside. An emptiness I didn’t know I had is suddenly full and overflowing for this kid. How is it so instantaneous? I don’t even know him, but it’s as if my heart has all along. I wrap my arm around him and pull him to my side. “Today’s even better.”
He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. Sometimes, a quiet moment is all that’s needed. I hand his photo back to him, and he shows me the other photos, five in total. I ask, “I was thinking we could get a frame for one of these. What do you think?”
“This one.”
He holds up the most recent picture taken, one of him lying next to her in bed. I’m thinking it was not too long ago by her appearance—the tan she once had long gone, frailer than anyone ever should be, and her hair thinned. “You sure?”