CHAPTER 18 #2
“Beth still not answering?” Dozer asks him.
“Nah, man. And Kendra’s visiting her family in Mexico.”
“You could call my mom.”
Bodie shakes his head, and his blond locks, which rest in waves around his face, bounce. His dimples wrinkle as he frowns. “No offense, man, but I’d rather get a swift kick in the balls than have your mom invading my space.”
Dozer doesn’t look offended. “Bet she’d take them off your hands until Blaire’s back in town.”
Bodie rolls over and peels himself off the floor.
He strides over and sits by us, threads his arms over the rope.
“But that’s the test, right? Blaire will be even more pissed off at me if Locks throws this shit in her face, which will happen if I pass them off to someone else.
And she’ll use this shit against me forever.
The point is that I’m supposed to manage and show her I’m capable of takin’ care of my own damn kids, man. ”
“Did you try Raven?” I ask.
He scowls. “That girl stopped answerin’ my calls ages ago.”
Dozer bursts into a laugh that he fails to cover with a cough. “Probably because you all but stalked her and called her non-stop for like a year straight.”
“To be fair, she never told me to lose her number.” Bodie moans and rubs his forehead in frustration. “Anyone else you can think of?”
“I can send Taffy over after school, if that will help,” Dozer offers.
“Anything, man. I’m desperate here.”
Dozer pulls out his phone from his pocket and starts typing a text. When finished, he crosses his arms over his chest and levels a downright scary expression at Bodie. “This should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway.”
“I know… I know.” Bodie holds up one hand.
Dozer talks over him. “Touch her in any way, and I’ll rearrange your fucking insides. You got me?”
“I know, man.”
“Nah, I fuckin’ mean it, brother. My baby sister is not just off-limits, she’s a no-go, like ever, or I’ll bury you.”
“I mean, now that you told me not to, it’s like waving a pirate flag at a born rebel.”
Dozer goes to slap the back of his head, but Bodie dodges and sinks back and out of the way. He’s laughing now, but hollers, “Just a fuckin’ joke. Swear on my life, bro. I won’t touch her.”
Dozer pulls out his phone again and curses.
“What?” Bodie asks, the smile falling away rapidly as he studies Dozer’s expression.
“She’s got cheer practice. Forgot about that. And she’s got a shift at the gas station that starts at six.”
Bodie throws his head back while groaning, “Fuuccck, really?”
Shaking his head and getting a kick out of Bodie’s situation, Dozer smirks. “Sorry, man. She said tomorrow she can help, but not today.”
After rubbing his face vigorously, Bodie’s gaze falls back on me, the silent observer to this animated conversation. When his head tilts to the side and he keeps staring, a spark of trepidation flutters in my chest.
“What?”
“Please!” He whines.
I laugh. “Please, what?”
“Help me?”
“Bodie, I—”
He cuts me off. “I know, but surely you know more than me. Or you can at least even the odds. One child, I can handle no problem. It’s the two together running around like fuckin’ maniacs that stresses me the hell out.”
“Why have kids if they stress you out?”
“Because they’re cute little fuckers and I love ’em. But this is my first one-on-one, and it’s freakin’ me the fuck out. At least with some backup, I’d be less anxious.”
I eye him suspiciously. “And this isn’t just a ploy to get me to your house alone?”
He crosses his fingers over his chest in an X . “Swear to fuckin’ God, no. Wouldn’t do Finn over like that.”
Dozer snaps his head to me at that. My eyebrows rise, and I study Bodie’s face. His words take me by surprise. He must have taken Dozer by surprise, too, because now the big man analyzes me as if he’s seeing me in a new light.
“He’s my boss, nothing more.”
Bodie grins widely, his dimples making an appearance. “Sure. Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“Well, that may be, but doesn’t change the fact that you two sure throw a lot of sexual chemistry around when you’re within a few fuckin’ feet of each other.”
“We don’t—”
“You do,” they both say at the same fucking time.
I roll my eyes in response and bite my bottom lip so I won’t give voice to all the thoughts running through my mind.
If only they knew how much history Finn and I share.
Knew who I really am and what my angle is here.
If they did, there would be none of this banter.
No welcome. And neither of them would be as accepting of me as they are now.
Bodie wouldn’t be inviting me into his home to meet his kids.
Sure, he’s doing it purely for help with his kids. But still.
I agree to help him, which might be a mistake.
However, there’s a part of me that wants this.
This is an opportunity to get to know Finn’s best friend.
To learn more about the man who is on record as being the one who pulled Finn out of the firefight after the roadside bomb incident.
Had Bodie not made it out, had he not saved Finn, then Finn would be what I’d imagined him to be for so long.
Dead.
Just a memory.
For this alone, I commit to helping him as much as I’m capable. He gives me his address, and I promise to show up after I head back to my hotel and change into something more appropriate for the domestic insanity I just signed up for.
I can do this.
Right?
Oh, God. The shit I get myself into.
Bodie’s children are cute but a handful. Hallie is a month away from turning one, and she’s a small bundle of feistiness who toddles around as she figures out how to use her little legs. She falls quite often but merely picks herself back up and tries again.
Tanner’s three and totally gives off Dennis the Menace vibes: looks like an angel, acts like a gremlin. Blond hair, big baby-blue eyes like his dad’s, and a grin that says he knows exactly what he’s getting away with.
From an outsider looking in, I’d say Tanner’s behavior is mainly an attempt to get his dad’s attention.
But I’m no expert. Any parenting knowledge I have is primarily derived from literature and my studies in psychology and sociology.
I particularly loved the discussions on these topics in my college courses.
Like how nature and the world around someone can change them, versus the different ways nurturing or not nurturing, in a sense, can impact who a person becomes.
Schooling had always been a sore subject for me.
It had been a barrier for steady employment and something I had to work around in my teens, which sort of led me down my path.
So later, when Deeds told me he could get me a fake identity and I could go back if I wanted to, I jumped at the opportunity.
The fact that my degree is in a fake name doesn’t matter to me.
I didn’t do it to put it on a resumé or to mount some plaque on a wall.
I did it because I loved learning. I spent my free time in local libraries, devouring editorial pieces in various magazines, whether they were about other parts of the world, fashion, cultures, music, history, art, or mental development.
I consumed it all. I’d developed a voracious appetite for learning that seemed to have no end.
So yeah, as I watch Bodie rock out with Tanner after he yanked out every pan from the cupboard so that he could beat them with a stick, I have to hold in these truths, or any wisdom I can glean from their personalities and Bodie’s parenting style, because these are parts of myself I don’t share with another soul—the pieces of me I hide away from the world so I can appear to be who I need to be on any given job.
I can see how playing with Tanner, encouraging art in any form, even if it’s drumming on pots and pans, might change something fundamental about him.
It just might plant a seed for his love of music, or show an early talent that he could develop as he grows.
Had his dad shut it down immediately, what might that have done?
These are the things my own mother didn’t consider. And maybe Bodie doesn’t either, but he’s not discouraging Tanner because it’s loud and annoying, he’s diving right in, and it’s doing the trick. It’s wearing them both out, and they’re laughing like lunatics.
Tanner might not remember it, but Bodie will, and another seed is planted from the bond this little moment created, which is kind of beautiful if you think about it.
It’s not like the neighbors can hear, and it’s still daylight, so even if they could, so what?
Let the kid rock out if he wants to. I’m not sure if that’s sound parenting, but it’s what I would do in this situation.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, trying and failing to feed Hallie the gloppy orange baby food in a jar that Bodie handed over with a tiny rubber spoon.
It’s everywhere. The bib caught some of the mess.
The rest, though, is smeared over the lower half of her face.
It’s in her hair, since she grabbed the spoon at one point before I could move it away fast enough.
Bodie assured me it’s nothing a bath won’t fix, but the lack of control over this situation has thrown me for a loop. It’s an entirely new experience. I call it a win, since I’ve managed to get at least half the jar of food into her small mouth.
From there, we don’t even attempt to make dinner. I call for a pizza delivery. While we wait, Bodie bathes his kids. He ends up calling me in to help wrangle Hallie into a towel, so that he could do the same with Tanner.
I’m not entirely sure where everything is, but after searching the yellow dresser in Tanner and Hallie’s shared room, I find a set of PJs that look as if they’ll fit, and hold them up to Bodie for inspection.
“Yeah, but diaper first.” He points at the changing table in the corner.