5. Dempsey
5
Dempsey
M y body naturally wakes up with the sun. As I walk to the bathroom, I see Owen sitting up in his crib, playing with his stuffed navy blue bunny. Bun-Bun is his comfort toy and goes with us everywhere. Nicole bought him, as well as five backups when Katy was pregnant.
Katy. He goes with Katy everywhere. I’m not part of an us .
I relieve myself in the bathroom, hoping to get to him before he makes too much noise and wakes Katy up. Quietly, I sneak in his door, and when Owen sees me, he stands, smiles and outstretches his arms.
“Vik.” His face lights up with a smile.
“Shhh. We don’t want to wake Mommy. Let’s go.”
He’s the cutest kid. He has dark brown hair and eyes, just like Katy. He has a handful of teeth and must be getting more because the front of his shirt is soaking wet. I need to change his clothes and diaper, but I don’t want any more noise from the monitor to wake Katy.
As we leave the room, with Bun-Bun in hand, I close the door behind us and go to the diaper bag hanging by the front door. I know everything I’ll need to get by will be in there.
“Morning, Little Man. Did you sleep well?” Owen reaches up and rubs his hand on my beard. He almost never pulls. He likes to rub his hands on it, and I’m not going to lie; the comfort he seems to get from it could bring a grown man to his knees. I’ve seen the mock resentment in Katy’s eyes on a few occasions when she couldn’t seem to console him, and I’d take Owen to give her a break. He would instantly calm with his head on my shoulder and a hand on my beard.
Did I think at twenty-four I’d be a glorified, overpaid nanny? Hell, no. Is Owen the cutest kid I’ve ever met, and would I lay my life on the line for him as much as Katy? Fuck, yes.
Once he’s clean and fresh, I know I have a small window to feed him before he fusses. Katy usually breastfeeds him in the morning and before bed, but he’s eating big people food, too, so I think I’ll let her sleep just for this morning.
As we walk into the kitchen to find some breakfast, he squeezes his little fist in my face, looking toward Katy’s bedroom door. Milk. He’s using the ASL sign for milk. Maybe Katy won’t get to sleep in this morning after all.
Katy has taught him basic signs since birth, and he uses them often to communicate. Milk, more, and all done are his frequent ones.
“Mommy is sleeping. How about…pancakes?”
“Kay-kays.” He smiles and jumps in my arms. I know the way to his heart.
I gather all the supplies we need one-handed. When I try to put him in his highchair, his face scrunches with protest and I resign myself to continuing my morning with only one available limb.
I talk Owen through everything I’m doing. I read in the baby books that’s how they learn at this age. When I knew I wouldn’t be leaving Katy’s side anytime soon, I did all the research I could on babies. Guns, tactical gear, maps, and strategies, I knew well. Babies, diapers, and sleep training, not so much. It’s been a learning experience for us all.
I feel Katy walk into the room before I see her. Her presence makes the air shift, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue making our pancakes and wait for her to announce her presence.
She watches us for several long minutes before I hear her gasp when Owen pulls at my hair, and I take it down. I turn to greet her with a smile and freeze. The tank top she’s wearing shifted in her sleep, and her left breast is gloriously hanging out on full display. I steal my face because, holy fuck is this small glance of her body gorgeous.
“Pepper—” She cuts me off.
“Don’t Pepper me. I still think it’s the stupidest nickname, but whatever.” I try not to smile at her rant because this isn’t the time or place. She may think the nickname is stupid, but it perfectly describes her. Sometimes sweet, sometimes spicy, and other times, the heat sneaks up on you when you aren’t expecting it.
“Katy,” I try again, but a little firmer. “You’re shirt—”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s morning…” She’s not going to listen to me. She’s woken up spicy. Maybe like a jalapeno. If I stay away from the seeds, she won’t be as hot. I stare past her in an attempt to give her some modesty, but it seems to only make her madder.
Katy charges toward me, and I look away, using Owen as a buffer between us. Her fucking beautiful breast, full of milk and motherhood, stares at me the closer she gets. She takes Owen from me, and I continue to look away.
“… I’m sorry I’m not as cute and vulnerable by the light of day.” Fuck. Does she think that’s why I won’t look at her?
“Katy.” The last of my control comes out with her name.
“What?” She barks back. “I can match your energy if you want me to.”
“You’re shirt—”
“Jesus Christ, Viktor. What is your obsession with my pajamas this morning? It’s just a tank to—”
“Look. Down,” I growl, the last bit of my restraint shredding into pieces.
She groans her frustration but judging by the subsequent rush of air I feel when she spins, she’s finally realized her wardrobe malfunction.
“Is it safe to turn around now?”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Viktor?”
Okay. I guess this is my fault. “I tried to. Several times.”
“Mama, mik?”
I glance over my shoulder to see if she’s decent and find a smiling Owen using the sign for milk. Katy’s cheeks are bright red, and her innocence behind the scowl she’s giving me is fascinating. How someone could go through the experiences she has and still keep the innocent pieces of herself is beyond me. I know Owen has brought a bright light into her life, and I’m grateful for him every day.
“I can finish the pancakes if you want to go feed him?”
She tries hard to keep the edge to her face, but I see it softening when she looks at him.
“Sure. Thank you. We’ll be right back.”
I watch them retreat into Katy’s bedroom and shake my head at the last few minutes. I shift on my feet, adjusting myself in my loose lounge pants. I’m glad I was standing behind the counter because I might need a cold shower after what I just saw.
Katy’s body has retained a lot of her motherly figure after birthing Owen. I watched as her hips widened and her breasts swelled while she was pregnant. She struggled to breastfeed him at first, but it was something she was passionate about doing, and Nicole, Annie, and Blake were a huge part of her success. When she got discouraged and wanted to give up, they didn’t let her, and when Owen started latching on properly and gaining weight, we all celebrated with her.
Latching . Another thing I knew nothing about before Katy. How she’s taught me more about life than any of my military training is awe-inspiring. Living life truly is the realest form of experience.
Owen comes running out of Katy’s room just as I finish the last of the pancakes. He jumps into my awaiting arms. I put him in his highchair and give him the plate I already have ready for him. I made a big batch, so we have leftovers for snacks.
Not we. She.
I made extras so Katy has snacks for Owen or breakfast for them another day. I don’t need to do any of the things I do for her, but I want to. Her safety is my job, my priority, but I also relish in being able to help her in any way possible. All I ever want in return is her happiness.
The comment she made earlier struck me hard. “I’m sorry I’m not as cute and vulnerable by the light of day.” She’s feeling the effects of my own nighttime vulnerability.
During the light of day, my role in her life is obvious. I’m on alert for their protection. My duty is to make sure they are safe from all harm, and I take it extremely seriously. I won’t ever let her down like I did that day in the rain. I’m here 24/7. Justin and Spencer have talked to me several times about hiring someone else to help me, but I refuse every time. They are my responsibility.
At night is a different story. She’s wrong. I’m the vulnerable one. I can’t keep my defenses up when I know she’s having nightmares I caused. She’s seeing the man that raped her because I was unprepared. She’s remembering all the blood from my wound. The worst ones, like last night, are when she remembers clinging to my near-lifeless body in the car.
I can’t stay away when she screams my name out in desperation from her dream state. Those are the nights she falls asleep in my arms and wakes up alone.
Nights like those produce mornings like this. The silent awkwardness between us. It’s not about her wardrobe mishap when she comes out of the bedroom and makes herself a plate without talking to me. It’s the cold shoulder and scowl I have firmly etched on my face because it takes my mind longer to forget each time I hold her.
It’s not fair to her, and I’m aware of it, but I have no choice. Before the incident, there was already tension between us. I saw her attraction to me, even if she was too young to think about entertaining her crush. Maybe that’s why I was sloppy that day. Our banter in the food court was fresh in my mind. Was I too much of a love-struck puppy to notice a car following us? Was my mind too much in the clouds watching her look at baby stuff that Shane was able to take several pictures of us without my knowledge?
I obviously was, and because of that, she could have been kidnapped or worse.
That will never happen again.