Chapter 15 Jace
JACE
“This fuc-” I cut myself short, swallowing the rest of the curse word so that the little mind in front of me doesn’t pick up on it. That’s the last thing I need. “This thing requires a degree to get undone.”
“Just push the button!” Otis giggles, his mother’s blue-gray eyes staring back at me, making my insides squeeze.
If only it were that easy, kid…
Rolling up to Presley’s place this morning, I fully expected to be escorting her and Otis to the Fall Festival in my truck.
Even had it detailed yesterday afternoon so that it was sparkling clean and smelling like a chemical pine tree for them.
And then Presley took one look at me and said the two words that made me feel like a dumbass on top of a jackass.
Car seat.
So much for being the safety first guy.
Admittedly, car seats are not in my wheelhouse. I’ve watched Owen help new mothers install them a bunch of times—even held an event with the Georgia State Patrol preaching car seat safety. But I’ve never actually dealt with one myself.
Something that is completely obvious as Otis’s twenty-seven-point harness system gets the best of me as I try to undo him.
“Want me to do it?” Presley asks, rounding the back of her car.
“I got it.” I think. Pushing down on the latch, I finally get the stiff plastic to move. At least we know he’s in there good.
Otis giggles again, kicking his feet, clearly anxious to get out of this contraption.
Can’t blame the kid; he looks like he’s squeezed in here like a sardine in a can.
The harness comes undone, all of us breathing a sigh of relief, and I reach in and pull him out.
He holds on tight, his skinny little arms circling my neck, making the battle totally worth it.
“Ready?” he exclaims as his feet hit the ground.
“Hold on a sec,” Presley instructs, gathering his sweatshirt from the trunk.
“Take a minute to stretch your legs, Little Man,” I say, shaking out my own in example. “Get those muscles warmed up.”
Otis follows my lead, shaking his whole body like he’s doing the Hokey Pokey.
“I know rear facing seems extreme,” Presley tells me again. “And he’s pushing the height limit, so my hand is going to be forced soon, but he’s still very much under the weight limit, so I’m trying to delay flipping him as long as I can.”
She gave me the same justification as we were loading him in, my ignorance about the whole process shining bright. My agreement with her logic hasn’t changed in the ten minutes since we left the house.
“You don’t have to try to convince me,” I remind her. “Safety first. Right, Little Man?”
“Right.” Otis nods, as serious as a judge laying down the law.
“Okay, buddy.” Presley kneels down so she’s eye to eye with the little guy. “You know the rules. You need to stay with mommy and Jace the whole time. If you’re not standing right in front of one of us, then you need to be holding our hand.”
Otis nods emphatically. He’s heard these instructions before.
“And what do we do if we get separated?” she asks, keeping her voice light.
“I look for a helpful grown-up. Like a policeperson.”
“Very good. And do we go away with people we don’t know?”
“Nope! And if a stranger tries to make me, I scream bad words really loud! Like Jace almost just said.”
Oooops. So much for my word choice going unnoticed. Although, I have to admit, that’s a clever tactic. A small child screaming obscenities in a crowd is absolutely going to draw attention.
“Yes, you do. Now, big choice time. Do you want to hold Mommy’s hand? Or Jace’s?”
“Jace!”
My heart leaps, a new excitement rushing through me.
I can see the flash of disappointment on Presley’s face that she wasn’t his pick, the pang that accompanies it passing through me almost as fast as she hides her own expression.
More than anything, I’m excited that he’s excited about all of us hanging out.
“Let’s go, Little Man.”
I hold out my hand and he takes it right away.
Smiling at Presley, I nod toward Newton Field, ready to take on the festival.
This event is smaller, mostly Hickory Hills locals, created as a way to offer up something for all the people who work hard to put on Rhythm and Brews, the massive bluegrass and beer festival the town hosts over Labor Day weekend.
The irony of it all is that all the same vendors who set up for Rhythm and Brews also have booths at the Fall Festival.
And usually the weekly farmers’ market too.
Hasn’t stopped this town from hosting it though.
“So, what’s up first?” I ask. “I know Touch-a-Truck is a must, and probably some rides, but is there anything Mom wants to make sure to see?”
“Whatever you guys want.”
I look at her, seeing past the easy smile she’s sporting. That’s not how today is going to go. I am not going to let her cater to our whims and not get what she wants.
“I want to know what you want,” I tell her, lining up for ride tickets.
Whether we do rides first, last, or somewhere in between, I’ve learned over the years that getting the tickets early is key, since most people wait and the line gets out of control.
“So, tell me, what is on Presley’s list of must-sees? ”
Cheeks tingeing pink, she tries to look away, pulling her lips into her mouth. I continue to keep my gaze trained on her until she looks back at me, wanting her to know I’m serious. That I’m in this. That this is about her as much as it is Otis.
“I would really like to try and get some content for our stranger danger series,” she admits.
“Nothing specific—I’m not going to ask you to make a speech or anything.
But if I could get some crowd shots and some video that we can use as a background for some things, that would be fantastic.
And if we could stop by the Veggie Patch booth, they have this chutney that I really like. ”
“Done.” I nod. “How about we start with Touch-a-Truck, then Little Man and I can go hang out and watch some pumpkin chunkin’ while you get whatever footage you need, and then we can hit up the rides last? Sound like a plan, Little Man?”
I look down, expecting to see Otis standing next to me. But he’s not there.
Oh, fuck.
My heart stops. The blood in my veins turns ice-cold as sheer panic takes over. He’s gone. He was just here, holding my hand. Where did he go? How did I not realize he wasn’t holding my hand?
“Otis…” My voice is filled with fear, the jump-starting of my heart making my breath catch. “Fuck, where did he go?”
I spin around, feeling like I’m going out of my mind. I lost him. We’re barely fifteen minutes into this and I lost him. Fuck. Presley is never going to forgive me.
Tapping my shoulder, Presley points over to the Southern Brothers Brewing tent. There, in front of a very full table of beer, is Otis.
“Shit…”
“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” she gloats. Yeah, I deserve that.
I rush out of line, beelining toward the tent. I’m laser focused on my target, shouting his name so that he doesn’t move from that spot. A set of arms reaches out and picks him up, making me hold my breath all over again. Until I take a harder look and realize those arms belong to my brother.
“While I usually say it’s never too early for beer,” Milo quips, “the law says I can’t serve you for a few more years, dude.”
“I have cock porn?”
I stop dead in my tracks, my sigh of relief halted when I hear Otis’s question. Because that’s not a request I’ve heard before. Ever.
Milo’s eyes go wide, flicking over to me then back to Otis. “You want what?”
“Cock porn!”
Milo looks back to me. I shrug. The only thing I have right now is a racing heart, an overstimulated nervous system, and a heavily tested will to not laugh at Little Man’s request.
“Cock porn,” he says again, pointing farther into the tent.
“Popcorn,” Presley says, appearing behind me and fully enunciating the word. “And say please.”
“Pweeeese!”
Milo laughs, shaking his head as he turns to head behind the table to the popcorn machine, Otis still perched on his hip. “Let’s get you some popcorn. Do you want to scoop it yourself?”
I start to relax, my muscles easing as I watch Milo and Otis—the combination of their names making me smile.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the movie—the point where I don’t remember who was the puppy and who was the kitten—but I make a mental note that might be a fun one to watch as a family.
As a family…where did that thought come from?
I shake it off, turning to Presley and wrapping an arm around her, drawing her into me.
“So much for always holding one of our hands and not talking to strangers.”
“He’s a runner,” she replies, sinking into me.
The weight of her against my chest feels good, so I tighten my grip.
“And like I’ve said, he’s really been testing his independence lately.
That’s why the whole stranger danger thing is so important.
I want him to be confident and independent, and not afraid of the world and the people in it.
But at the same time, I want him to be smart about it.
Figuring out who you can trust is hard, no matter how old you are. ”
I press a kiss to her temple, letting her words sink in. I want her to be able to trust me. For Otis to be able to trust me. We might have gotten off to a rough start, but nothing is going to stand in my way from showing her that I’m not that guy.
“You can trust me,” I tell her. Twisting, she looks up at me, those blue-gray eyes full of hope. “Promise.”
“I know,” she whispers in return.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Milo and Otis coming back to us, so I loosen my hold on her, turning my attention to the new dynamic duo.
“You can also trust this joker. Despite his willingness to pick up random children and feed them snacks.”
Milo scoffs. “I’m not the one not watching their kid. But it’s okay, because I’m pretty sure my new buddy here is going to teach you all sorts of lessons.”