Chapter 8
Deejay
The doorbell softly dings throughout the house just as Eren pulls the last few drops from his pre-nap bottle. Alex sleeps in his crib, down for his post-lunch nap, and Eren is well on his way, but I need to burp him before I lay him down. I stand up, patting his back as I take the stairs down to the front door. My doorbell only rings for deliveries and since I’m not expecting any boxes or food, I can safely assume this is another child delivery. When I open it, I am unsurprised to find another one of my sister’s kids, but this one is also older, so probably a stepson like Matt would have been if his father had lived long enough.
The young man has soft, wavy brown hair that falls just below his ears like he’s due for a haircut, and light hazel brown eyes hidden behind thick black frames that make his eyes look a little small. His slight frame makes him look a bit like a child because he stands about a foot shorter than me, but even with that, I can see he’s older in the way his heart-shaped face has lost all the softness of childhood.
“Who dropped you off?”
I ask since I don’t see the sister in question anywhere. That bitch just dumped this kid on my doorstep without bothering with an introduction.
“M-M-Melody,”
the kid stutters, taking a defensive step back from me. “I-I’m sorry. She just—”
“You do not have to apologize for that cunt,”
I interrupt, watching as he gives off some significant signals that he’s been abused. Compassion and anger fill me on his behalf. “Melody is my oldest sister; I’ve already taken in three of her sons. Why didn’t she bring you to me already?”
I hate that he’s been in her care when he could have had a safe place here. She’s never been kind to any of her sons, crueler than any of my sisters except her twin, Marisa.
“She said she would have,”
he chokes out, looking away in genuine fear. “But she didn’t think you were taking in step-children too.”
I stare at him, watching him avoid looking at me altogether, then Eren burps, reminding me that I’ve been patting his back, but I don’t stop in case there’s another bit of gas in there. I want him to sleep well and uninterrupted, though I feel him relax completely, which means that he has already settled and started his nap on my shoulder.
As I consider the baby and what to do with this new kid, who is absolutely mine now, he glances at me, so I give him a smile, hoping to relax him a little. I know it’s hard being tossed at an uncle you’ve never even heard of, but this is what our family is like. He needs to know that.
“My name is Deejay Aquino. My sisters all give me their sons to raise. If I’d known about you, I would have brought you here as soon as Melody married your father,”
I explain, trying to infuse every word with compassion, I’m going to have to deal with that bitch for keeping this kid from me, and make sure all my sisters know that they are to bring me their stepsons too. “What’s your name? How old are you?”
“Robert Julien,”
he whispers, avoiding eye contact, but at least he’s looking in my general direction now. Poor kid. “Today is my eighteenth birthday.”
Is he fucking kidding me? Of course my bitch of a sister would dump him on his actual birthday. I would put money on her not actually knowing it was his birthday either. “Did Melody know it was your birthday?”
“Probably not. I’m sorry—”
I hate that he feels the need to apologize for that bitch so I interrupt him. “She’s a cunt. Don’t apologize for her and come in, Robert. You look like you’re about to collapse, so go sit on the sofa in the living room. We’ll get your situation sorted over some snacks. This little guy just fell asleep, so I’m going to go put him down. Then we’ll get you settled into a room and figure out what to do about everything else. It’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this for ten years; I’ve got the process down already. So just relax in here and I’ll be back in a minute.”
I’ve already lost him as he gazes around the house with an expression of wonderment. I don’t know if it’s the carpet stains or the cheap furniture, but he looks slightly more settled seeing that I don’t stock my house with shit that’s just going to end up ruined by the kids. The furniture isn’t as sturdy as it could be, but it’s easily replaceable, and stains don’t bother me when I paid practically nothing for it.
Since he seems to have retreated into his own little world, I leave him there, taking Eren up to his crib and staying long enough to make sure he settles again. I run back down to the kitchen, yawning as I grab the makings for finger sandwiches.
I haven’t slept well for a few days because of some...personal issues. Matt—I haven’t slept well because of Matt. He bothers me and sometimes when I let my guard down, I feel myself getting drawn into his orbit. The more time he spends with me and the others, the more I get to know him and the more I like him, but I like him a little too much because sometimes, especially when I’m alone, I can’t get my mind to settle on anything but him. After holding his hand last night, I could not settle at all. My feelings are completely inappropriate until he turns eighteen, and I absolutely need to squash them, but even now, while I’m supposed to be making a snack, I’m fucking standing here frozen, thinking about Matt.
Concentrate, Deejay, Robert needs your help.
I get moving and put the sandwiches together quickly: chicken salad, cucumber, and ham and cheese because I don’t know his preferences. I make a small platter, and I add some fresh veg and madeleines to it, then pull the pitcher of Tang out of the fridge and grab some cups and plates. Hands full with a tray, I go back to the living room, where I find Cary and Robert immersed in their own little world of cars. For the first time since I met the poor kid, he looks completely relaxed and I don’t want to disrupt that, so I set the food down and retreat upstairs.
Later is soon enough to address all the things we’ll need to get started for him.