Chapter 23 #2
“Before you tell me I don’t have to, I am aware. I want to. I have the ability to do this, to help take care of you two this way, so please let me. Let me take this off your plate. Give you back that time so you can focus on the things that matter the most to you, like Little Man.”
He nods toward my baby. My sleeping baby.
I hold back a laugh at Otis’s body scrunched up, head lolled to the side in a position that in no way looks comfortable. One that can only be achieved when you fall asleep at the dinner table.
“Someone’s tired,” Jace comments.
“You two had a big day. And it doesn’t sound like he got his nap.”
Jace shakes his head. Thought so.
“Let me put him to bed and then we can finish up.”
I stand, moving as quietly as I can to try not to wake him. I do a horrible job though, Otis jolting awake as soon as I lift him.
“No, Mama…” he whines sleepily.
“It’s bedtime, buddy. Let’s get you washed up so we can read a story.”
“Jace do it.”
My heart stops. I don’t know if it breaks or doubles in size. Otis wants Jace to do bedtime. He’s never let anyone else put him to bed if I’m around—ever. Even Paps. I ask every time my parents are over, but nope, always me.
Until tonight. Actually, that’s not true. He asked once before. This is my baby doubling down on the request.
Jace looks to me, waiting on my answer. There’s a part of me that wants to refuse.
That wants to hold on to me being the only person who gets to do this.
But there’s another part—a bigger part if I’m honest with myself—that is all in.
That is so in love with how Jace has weaved his way into our life. Our routines.
Because he’s got us.
I nod, giving the all clear. Jace stands, reaching out and taking Otis from me.
“Alrighty, let’s go, Little Man. Tell Mama night.”
“Nigh, Mama…”
“Sweet dreams, baby.” I gently kiss his forehead, pushing his hair out of the way, and then watch them go.
Sighing, I slump down into my chair, my heart full.
All of this is too good to be true. Everything I’ve secretly hoped for.
It was too heavy to ever say out loud. To put it into the universe.
I’ve been so determined to make sure that Otis never missed out since he only had me that I didn’t dare let myself think the thoughts.
I’ve been too full of fear.
No more.
Pushing up from the table, I start to clear the dishes. There’s still a little bit left in the baking dish, so I cover it with foil and stick it in the fridge in case Jace wants more when he’s finished. It’ll be better reheated than letting it sit at room temperature anyway.
The baby monitor gurgles, the LED bar lighting up as the voices come in and out. I reach over, turning up the volume a tad so I can hear it over the water.
“Story?” Otis’s voice crackles through the speaker.
“Sure. Do you have a favorite?”
“You pick.”
“Okay, hmmmmm…” Jace mutters. “Do you have Where the Wild Things Are? That was my favorite when I was a little boy.”
I swoon, falling a little more. So much so, this might be enough to push me over the edge.
There’s some shuffling in the background and then Jace speaks again. “All tucked in? Awesome. Then let’s rock ’n roll, Little Man. Where the Wild Things Are, story and pictures by Maurice Sendak…”
Jace launches into the story, his animated performance taking it to a new level.
Each character gets a different voice, their own accent, and a dramatic flourish I could never pull off.
He doesn’t hesitate at any point, telling the story as if it was his own.
Like the little boy he’s putting to bed and reading to was his own.
Swoon…
I turn back to the dishes, forcing myself to let story time be background noise.
I want to spend time with Jace tonight, just us.
Doing something other than the dishes. I want to be able to tell him about my day, and talk about the book he gave me.
I want to be able to give him a piece of me like he gave me a piece of him.
“I would have done those,” Jace says, returning to the kitchen.
I glance over my shoulder, still rinsing the last of the dishes. “You did plenty today. I had to contribute something.”
“You do more than your fair share every day. Today was supposed to be a break.”
I put the dish in the rack, killing the faucet. I spin around, ready to tell him that I had my break this afternoon. That doing all of this is so automatic, I don’t even think about it anymore. I don’t get the chance to though.
Jace grabs my hand, pulling me into him. I laugh, caught off guard by the sudden move.
“My hands are still wet.”
“I can fix that.” He winks, taking my hands and wiping them against his shirt, leaving wet spots. I shake my head, laughing even harder. Only Jace. “Dance with me, Pres.”
Dance with him? Ha. I know exactly how that went the last time, and we don’t want a repeat performance. I want us to enjoy tonight.
“Dance with me, Pres…” he repeats, looping an arm around my waist and holding me close. “Don’t make me beg…”
“I dunno. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you asked me to dance with you in the kitchen?” Thankfully it comes out playful and coy, despite my anxiety over this.
I can’t throw up on Jace Hayes twice. Once was bad enough.
“I’ll take my chances,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my forehead. I swoon, relaxing into him and the gentle warmth of his skin on mine. “It’s worth the risk. You’re worth the risk.”