4. Chapter 4 #3
“You want to pick your nanny?” I ask in surprise.
I was aware it was a big decision, and his input was important, but so was making sure the person looking after him wasn’t a psycho.
It wasn’t something I could solely trust a six-year-old to make.
But his small head nod made me think about things a little differently, considering my current approach on the nanny front hadn’t worked at all.
“How about you tell me what you would want in a nanny, and Nigel and I will try to look for it?” I suggest coming up with a way to keep him included. Which must have worked since Theo suddenly sat up straight and took a big bite of his ice cream, then put his thinking face on.
“Umm~” he hums happily, making the corner of my mouth tug upwards. “They have to play games with me,” he lists, like he wouldn’t accept otherwise.
“Good at games, got it. What else?” I ask, turning this into a little game to keep him talking on our way home. I hadn’t mentioned that Mother was coming today because she tended to flake at the last minute, and I’d learned my lesson in getting his hopes up.
“They have to be good at dancing. I want to test out my new game Uncle Nigel got me!” he adds, taking another few licks of his ice cream.
I wasn’t sure what game he was talking about, but I do know Nigel had brought him a new game for Christmas, and Theo hadn’t even touched it, cause all he wanted to play was Mario Kart and the occasional Mario Party when he, Min-Joon and I were all together.
But I have no doubt it’s an age-appropriate game because Nigel wasn’t clueless, unlike someone else I know.
“What else, bud?” I prompt, pausing at a red light to reach for the baby wipes in my glove compartment and hand him one, because he had ice cream all over his face.
On our way home, Theo went on to list a whole bunch of things he wanted in a nanny, like someone to buy him chicken nuggets, someone to do fun things with me when I’m away, like Min-Joon had done in the past, and someone to be silly with.
I know he said I was his favourite, but I hate how much he talks about Min-Joon, even more now that he’s gone. He’s the one who left him, but it didn’t make Theo love him any less.
The list only got more and more ridiculous as we got home and finally got through the front door, but it had rekindled his usual happy mood, so I let it go on for as long as possible when the Ring doorbell chimed through the house.
Satan has returned yet again.
I knew who it was, so I didn’t hesitate before permitting Theo to answer it. His coat was barely off as he ran to the door and ripped it open. Without asking, “Who is it?” Like I’d been trying to teach him, we were working on it.
The door opened so wide, thanks to the padding I added to the top corner, that it stopped it from slamming into the wall beside it as Theo screamed, “JJ!” before crashing into her legs as she bent down to hug him.
“Ohh, is that my little Theo??” My mother states the obvious.
It never surprised me that she never let Theo call her mum or even mother, as she hated it, which is the very reason I do it.
She no longer had any power over me, so I could call her whatever I wanted.
Granted, I’d never badmouth her in front of Theo, so whatever name I did use, it was child-friendly.
I silently watch them share their reunion hug, then Theo runs over to me for help to get out of his coat, whilst mother closes the door and walks into the kitchen, and settles the few bags she has on the counter.
“JJ, did you bring me a present?” Theo asks, overly excited as he runs back over to her once he is free of his coat.
“Yes, I did!” Mother says with just as much excitement, digging through one of the bags, as Theo bounces up and down in the spot. I turn away to hang up his coat and rid myself of mine.
Placing them neatly back into the coat rack.
“I brought you…” I hear my mother say, dragging out her words with one arm inside the bag. She waits for the exact moment for Theo’s pupils to dilate and his excitement to reach the point where he looks as if he’s ready to take off and fly around the flat.
“A brand-new game!” she squeals, ripping it out of the bag and holding it out in front of him. Theo screams in excitement, thanking her before ripping it free from her grip and bolting over to me.
“Ollie, can I play this now??” he asks, with the biggest smile as I glance down at the game and suddenly feel like the biggest prick in the world knowing I had to be the one, yet again, to break his happy mood.
“Of course you ca-”
“We don’t have the console for this, so you can’t right now, bud.
” My mother and I spoke at the same time.
It actually amazed me that this woman had no shame in handing over her child for someone else to raise, but the moment she reappeared, she wanted to act like a parent.
She had no idea what it felt like to watch the light in Theo’s eyes fade when you had to tell him no.
“Tell you what, I’ll keep this safe for you for now. Why don’t you go to the living room and find your new high score so we can show JJ?” I redirect him, gently taking the game away from him as he stares at me for a beat; then he’s convinced.
“Okay, JJ, wait here! I have something to show you!” he yells in excitement, racing off to the living room to do as he was told.
“Okay, sweetie! I’ll wait right here!” she says in a singsong tone, then switches to her usual judgmental, irritated tone she uses when it was just the two of us.
“What’s your problem, Ollie? You can buy him games, but I can’t?” she sulks, acting the same age as her youngest son, crossing her arms. I don’t respond right away and take my time straightening back up and taking in her appearance.
My mother had gained a few more wrinkles, compared to the last time I saw her; all those years ago, she was slimmer too.
Not that I’d tell her that; she’d race off to get Botox the second she left.
Her hair was still the same chestnut brown with grey peeking through the roots, something she’d have sorted before her next travel adventure.
Joan Walters would never appear on TV or social media with any indication of ageing.
She had the figure and gusto of a forty-year-old, something everyone in their sixties and anyone else who followed her career dreamt of. After nearly forty years, she’s still the top traveller in her field. From starting as a travel blogger for Nomad Weekly, a worldwide magazine.
She is one of the only people in her field to make it through the transition into the digital world.
From having her own TV show. She’s On The Move, which ran for over a decade, to having her own website and travel kit brand, all the way through to now being on every social media platform you can think of, with 65K followers on Instagram, double that on TikTok, being her most successful account, but her Twitter and Facebook pages weren’t far behind.
She was even on Snapchat, which I chose not to acknowledge after one night, preparing to leave Lilyana’s place, aka February, who explained to me what Snapchat was actually used for.
There was no doubt my mother was using it for that very purpose, and her very presence on the web was one of the main reasons I wasn’t on any of them, nor did I want to be.
So yes, my mother had one of the most successful jobs in history; she was idolised and adored by millions, and some lived and breathed on her every word, but being her son, I wasn’t one of them, nor would I ever be.
There were so many things her fans didn’t know, like the fact that she had a child in her early 20s, then a second in her 50s, let alone the fact that she has two.
They didn’t know what it was like travelling alongside her and the camera crew every few months as she jumped from man to man, country to country, when she left like it.
What it was like to live with someone who was too selfish to make room for others.
Now, I do appreciate that she did her best to keep me out of the limelight, so I didn’t have to live under the pressure of being Joan Walter’s son, but that’s as far as my gratitude went.
Because she was my mother, I endlessly gave her the benefit of the doubt about certain things, but when it came to Theo, he was one of the things I was determined to fight for until she got it right.
“I make sure to buy him age-appropriate games. You can’t give a six-year-old GTA! For fuck sake. Do you have any idea what this game entails?” I spat at her, flashing the game in her face.
“It’s just a game,” she rolled her eyes. The anger in my voice did not affect her, as usual. “Yes. A game that has drugs, sex, and violence, totally appropriate for a child.” I snap back, flipping the case over and jabbing my finger towards the age rating displayed on the back.
“And you brought the PS5 version. He doesn’t have this console. Something you’d know if you ever looked at your messages.” I huff out, getting heated, but I need to keep myself calm, so I don’t start shouting with Theo not so far away.
I had no choice but to hint at the fact that Mother brought him gifts, but outside of these walls, she has no interest in Theo whatsoever.
Ever since she’d left him, I’d captured every milestone I could: his first tooth falling out, a video of him acknowledging his name, when he first learned to count, potty training, etc.
I tried my best to keep her in the loop, but I always got the same response: left on read.
Christmas was a mere four months ago, and Theo had wanted to send her a merry Christmas photo, one with him in his brand-new Mario pyjamas, Santa hat and his new Mario-themed Nintendo Switch.
It was practically impossible not to know what he liked, just by looking at the photo alone, and yet she got it wrong every time.
“What’s the big deal? I’ll just buy him a PS6,” she snaps, throwing her arms up in the air, only fuelling the anger pooling in my stomach.
“That isn’t the point, Mother!” I sigh.