Epilogue
MAC
“Have a good Christmas, bud?” I asked Andy, dropping down onto his bed beside him.
It had been a long day and I was ready for the couch, quiet and the football game.
Something hard poked me in the ass. I lifted to reach beneath the covers and found the action figure he’d gotten, then tossed it to the bottom of his bed.
“Hey! He’s sleeping with me!” Andy said, offended by my disregard that only six-year olds could muster.
I reached for the half human, half lizard and set it carefully on the pillow beside Andy’s head.
“There.” Pulling up the covers with dinosaurs on them, I tucked them beneath his pajama-clad arms. “So? Good holiday?”
He nodded, his dark hair like mine and wet from his bath, but didn’t look me in the eye.
“I asked Santa for something and it didn’t come,” he admitted in a soft voice.
I thought through the list he’d given me right after Thanksgiving, the one he’d sat at the kitchen table and diligently worked on, sounding out the words as he went.
Bike, books, baseball mitt. All the B’s it seemed.
Only the baseball mitt came from Santa, not wanting him to ever think the big guy handed out expensive presents.
But I thought his top wants had been met.
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I saw your list, bud, and I’d say you’re one lucky kid. Plus, you’re going with Grumpy to the big amusement park in California this spring.”
He nodded, raised his hand to pick his nose, then eyed me quickly as he remembered he shouldn’t and tucked it back under the covers.
“Yeah, that’s going to be awesome!” He wiggled with excitement. “I can’t wait to see Grumpy throw up on the saucer ride.”
Out of all the things he could say about a weekend with his grandfather at an amusement park, this wasn’t what I expected. My mouth tipped up imagining my father getting sick from too much spinning.
“No, Daddy. I asked Santa for a new mom.”
My smile slipped.
Holy. Shit. This was a big deal. One of those I-need-a-child-psychologist moments.
What did I say to a kid whose mother was my drug addicted sister who’d stayed clean long enough to have him–thank fuck–and linger for six weeks before dumping her newborn with me?
She bailed on her baby so she could go off and do… I had no idea what.
“I don’t think a new mom would fit down the chimney,” I told him, hoping to make light of a serious situation.
I couldn’t get Tracy to get her shit together enough to want to stay, nor come back to Hunter Valley.
Hell, after all this time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to. Only if she was clean and sober.
Andy was mine now. On paper and in my heart. I might be his uncle, but he was my son.
As I hoped, Andy grinned. A bottom tooth was missing and it was only a matter of time before he looked like a Jack O’ Lantern. “That’s silly. Mom’s come through the front door. And make cookies. And smell nice.”
“Women do smell nice,” I admitted. It’d been a long time since I got close enough to appreciate a woman’s… cookie.
Andy turned to his side, pulling his woobie, his small blanket he always slept with, out from under the covers to tuck beneath his chin.
“Do you think he sent my new mom to some other boy or girl?” he asked, his small voice tinged with worry.
“You watched a bunch of holiday movies this month. Did you see Santa ever pack a person into his big bag?”
He shook his head. “No, only toys.”
I had no idea what else to say. In order for Andy to get a mom, that meant I had to meet, find, fall in love and want to keep a woman.
A woman who smelled nice and whose cookie I wanted to eat for the rest of my life.
“So….” he began, breaking me from my naughty list thoughts. “Maybe Santa’s just slow. Maybe sometimes it takes a while. Just like pooping.”
I grinned, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “Yeah, bud. Sometimes it takes a while.”