Chapter Eight
Adam
The morning sun shines over my face, waking me up a little bit more. I rarely get to sleep in, and every weekend that I sleep a little too long, I worry the kids are into something they shouldn’t be.
Judy has outgrown that—for the most part. But Ian is at the ripe age of getting into everything. His newest fascination is flushing things down the toilet. I fished two toy cars out of my toilet just last weekend.
I sigh, hoping for just a few more moments of the quiet morning.
There is just something about the morning that is peaceful and comforting.
Some people like it when it’s late at night, quiet, and dark.
I prefer the morning light. It’s new and soft and wonderful.
Though this morning it seems to be extra bright.
A rarity here in Seattle. I miss the California sun, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to not having it.
But my kids are here; they’ll be my sunshine.
“Dadadadada!” Little footsteps accompany the little voice that gets louder as Ian gets closer to my room. He zooms toward me, diving onto my bed, but not making it all the way.
I laugh as he grips the blankets, kicking his feet and grunting as he tries to pull himself up. He whines, and it slowly gets louder.
“Okay, buddy. Come on,” I say, grabbing him under the arms and hoisting him the rest of the way.
He gets right to his feet to jump, giggling while he does.
“Are you supposed to jump on my bed?” I ask as I watch him.
“No!” he says, laughing even harder.
I shake my head, then toss the blankets off and get out of bed.
“Dada has no shirt.”
“That’s right,” I say.
He proceeds to grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it upward. He struggles to get it off, stomping around and whining again. I lunge toward the bed when I see him moving toward the edge, and reach it just in time to catch him.
“Whoa,” I say, putting him on his feet. “This is why we don’t stand on the bed.” I pull his shirt off and toss it into the hamper. “Let’s go get the diaper off.”
He’s been doing really well during the day without a diaper, but during the night, we’re still working on it. As we pass Judy’s room, I hold my finger to my lips. “Shh.”
He giggles behind his hand, then mimics me. We head into his room, and I pull open his closet.
“What do you want to wear today?”
“Bluey!”
“You got it, big guy.”
I grab one of his Bluey shirts from the hanger and a pair of sweats from the shelf, then go to his drawer and grab socks and underwear. We go into the bathroom so I can wash him up quickly, then I help him get dressed.
“You want to help me with breakfast?” I grin, holding his childish gaze.
His eyes go wide, and he gasps, smiling a mile wide and nodding. He lets out a squeal and I think I hear “yes” somewhere in the high-pitched frequency. There’s no way Judy didn’t hear that.
I take his hand, leading us to the small kitchen that barely fits all three of us. I pick him up and put him on the counter to sit.
“Pancakes?”
“Yummy,” he says, rubbing his stomach.
I grab the box of mix, a bowl, measuring cup, and the chocolate chips. I hand the bag of chocolate chips to Ian.
“Here, can you open this for me?”
He takes it and puts all his attention into it, which allows me to get the rest of the stuff I need. He’s still trying to figure it out when I start mixing the batter, but that gets his attention and he wants to mix it, so I hand it over and open the bag of chocolate.
“Okay, we have to be really careful, right?”
“Right.”
“The stove is hot, and we do not play with it. Not unless you’re an adult. It’s dangerous.”
“Yes, Dada.”
I pour a scoop of batter into the heated pan, making three small pancakes for Ian.
“Do you want to put the chocolate chips in yours?”
He does his surprised face again and nods. I lift him up under the arms.
“Grab some,” I tell him. He shoves his hand into the bag and takes a handful. Then, I bring him near the stove. “Don’t get too close. Little closer. Okay, let go.”
He opens his little fist and the chocolate chips fall all over one pancake and onto the pan. I laugh as I put him back in his spot, then finish the rest myself. When it’s all done, I plate them and cut them, get him some milk, then set him up at the table so I can make some for Judy and me.
“Deedee!” Ian says after only a moment, and I know she’s woken up.
“Morning, sweetheart!” I call out as I flip a large pancake.
She shuffles over, looking half asleep, and gives me a hug, then heads into the bathroom.
She comes back and sits at the table, her dark hair a wild mess.
It’ll take me forever to get all those knots out.
Every night before bed, I put a braid in her hair, but every morning, it’s somehow out, the band missing, and her hair looking like an animal’s nest.
“I’m tired,” she says.
“You can go back to bed if you want.”
“I want pancakes.”
“You can go back to sleep after that.”
“You said we could go to the park today.”
“We have all day for that. If you’re tired, you can sleep.”
She nods, putting her head down on the table. I make her pancakes, get her some milk, and set it on the table for her. Ian is already covered in chocolate and syrup. I should have waited to get him dressed because I may have to change him now.
I make three pancakes for myself, grab my half-empty mug of coffee, and leave the mess for later.
“Judy, can you hang out with Ian while I take a shower?” I ask when everyone is done eating. Ian somehow managed to keep his clothes clean, so all I have to do is scrub his face and hands.
“Can we stay in his room?” she asks.
“Of course. I’ll put on Bluey.”
“Bluey! Yay!” he shouts, running into his room.
Judy shakes her head, following after him. “Boys,” she mutters.
I grab my clothes and take a quick shower, then occupy Ian while Judy gets dressed so we can head to the park.
There’s one not far from here, but it’s not great.
The one across town has better things for them to play on, and safer things for Ian since it’s newer, so we get in the car and head that way.
As we pass the bar, I can’t help but look at it, wondering if Emmet is there.
I haven’t heard from him this morning, which is surprising.
We’ve talked every day since I got his number, and each morning, we’ve started talking by now. I guess he’s probably just busy.
We spend close to two hours at the park, and I get the kids ice cream from the truck that drove by. When we get back to the apartment, they’re starving and complaining that they want lunch—spaghetti. And of course, I have no sauce.
“We have to go back out,” I say.
“Ugh, Daddy,” Judy whines.
“I’m sorry, but I need sauce.”
“Can we go to the store down the street? The one with the pink ice cream?”
“You just had ice cream,” I say, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice.
She bats her lashes at me. “Please.”
“Fine, but you’re not eating it until later.”
“Yay! More ice cream!” she shouts, jumping up and down.
“Go make sure Ian has his shoes on, please.”
A few minutes later, they’re at the door and ready to go. Ian has his favorite car in his hand, while Judy has her backpack, sunglasses, and sun hat.
My stomach gets warm and fuzzy as we get closer to the bar.
The convenient store is just a block down and up from here, and I’ve walked to it with the kids many times.
I never thought much of the bar before, but now I’ll never be able to walk by again without thinking of him.
I spot a car in the back parking lot. Two, actually.
Maybe Emmet’s and the bartender’s? Or Emmet’s friend?
Does he have friends here? How long has he lived here?
He said he bought the place recently, and he did mention he bought it without looking at it which is ridiculous, so I guess that means he must have just moved.
I try not to stare at the building as we walk by it. Ian’s hand is firmly in mine while Judy skips ahead. She knows the way by now, and knows to stay close to me.
When we get to the store, I let them each pick out a snack.
Though she said she wanted ice cream, she chooses Sour Patch Kids instead, while Ian goes for the M&M’s.
He loves chocolate, this kid. I grab a can of sauce and a half gallon of milk, since I’m almost out.
I pay, Judy puts her and her brother’s snacks in her backpack, and then we’re on our way back home.
I don’t notice the door to the bar opening until I nearly bump into the person walking out of it.
“Oh shi—“ Emmet snaps his mouth shut when his gaze goes to the kids.
“That’s a bad word,” Judy says sharply.
“Uh, yeah. Well, it would have been, but I didn’t actually say it,” Emmet says carefully, looking from Judy back to me. She puts her hands on her hips.
I chuckle. “Hi, Emmet.”
He grins, giving me a wave.
Judy moves to my side, grabbing my hand the best she can even though I’m holding a bag.
“Are you daddy’s friend?” she asks.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You think so?” Judy questions.
“We’re friends,” I say. “We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“He should come over,” she says firmly. “You never have friends over. Mommy has lots of friends, but you don’t have any.”
“I’m sure he’s busy, sweetheart,” I say quickly, trying not to be embarrassed by my lack of friends.
“Oh, yeah. I’m working. Sorry, kiddo,” Emmet says.
She shrugs, then tugs on my hand. “I’m hungry.”
“Talk later?” I say as I let both kids drag me away.
Emmet smiles fondly, nodding. I give him my back and feel him watching me until I step up onto my porch.