Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
MATTHEW
“All done. Fucking finally.”
I dust off my hands as I eye the bouncy house that’s taking up a good chunk of my sister’s backyard. It’s some kind of castle contraption she insisted on having for the party.
“Don’t cuss, there are children present,” Becky mutters and slaps me over the back of my head.
“Ouch!” I rub at the spot where she hit me. “Seriously, Becs? Is that the way to thank your brother for helping you out?”
Becky shifts Jackson higher in her arms. “Considering how long you’ve been avoiding us, you owe me much more than setting up one bouncy house.”
For a moment, a flash of guilt slams into me at her words. Logically, I know she’s teasing, but there is no changing the truth. I have been avoiding her. Avoiding this town. Avoiding facing the past.
The back of my throat burns, and she must see that she’s hit a nerve because her expression softens. “Thank you for helping us out.”
I give her a half-shrug, trying to shake off the pressure building between my shoulder blades. “Well, it’s not like you really left me a choice if I remember correctly.”
She pokes me in the chest. “You little shit. You should be lucky I even invited you.”
“Hey! What happened to no cussing in front of the kids?”
“That only applies to us mere mortals, dude,” one of Miguel’s friends calls out. “And trust me, you don’t want to pi—” Becky just raises her brow silently, which makes the tall guy reconsider his words quickly. “Disappoint the baby mama.”
“Damn right you don’t.”
I shake my head just as there’s a commotion on the terrace that draws our attention. Kyle’s the first one I see, two dogs following at his heels. While my gut clenches with nerves, a wide smile spreads over Becky’s face.
Chase and Rose follow shortly after; my brother’s hand placed on the small of her back as he says something to her.
My heart is beating wildly, palms sweaty as I wait, but then Chase looks up, his gaze meeting Becky’s.
He gives a quick shake of his head, and from the corner of my eye, I can see my sister’s face fall.
Relief slams into me, followed by guilt and shame.
Chase was supposed to be the one to pick up our mother from Helpful Hands, the care facility where she lives and has around-the-clock care, something she desperately needs because of her Alzheimer’s.
She still has some lucid days, and my siblings usually visit her then.
Becky even said she was well enough for the home visit a few times, but clearly, today isn’t one of those days.
“She’s not coming,” Becky says, more of a statement than a question.
Chase joins us, his expression somber. “I’m sorry, Becky.”
Our sister tightens her hold on her son, her nostrils flaring as she sucks in a long breath and silently braces herself. Her throat bobs visibly. She blinks a few times to chase away the misty hue, which makes me feel like even more of an asshole.
Here she is, desperately wanting more time with our mother, and I’m relieved I don’t have to face her for a little while longer. What kind of son does that make me?
A guilty one, the little voice at the back of my head whispers.
Becky tries to force a smile but fails miserably. “We knew this could happen.”
Her head falls slightly, her hair shielding her face from view. My gaze meets Chase’s, and I can see his brows are pulled together.
“Be—” Chase starts gently, but she’s faster.
“I need to go check something in the house.” Turning toward me, she expertly slips Jackson into my arms before I can blink. “Here. Keep an eye on him for a minute, will ya?”
“Wha—” My gaze falls to the kid who’s sucking on his finger and eyeing me carefully with his big hazel eyes, a perfect match to my sister’s. “Dam—” I bite my tongue before the curse can slip fully out of my mouth. “What do I do with him?”
She doesn’t even spare me a glance. “He’s your nephew, figure it out.”
There’s a little bit of that feistiness I’m familiar with in her tone, and the knot in my stomach loosens, if only slightly. She might need a moment, but she’s going to be okay.
My gaze is on her retreating back as I tighten my hold on the kid, hoisting him higher in my arms. “Dude, you’re heavier than you look. What is she feeding you?”
Is it normal for a one-year-old kid to be this big? I have no idea. Being the youngest meant I never had much contact with babies. I saw them around, sure, but that’s about it. I have no idea how fast they grow or what’s normal and what’s not. What am I supposed to do with him?
I look at Chase, but he just lifts his hands in the air. “Don’t ask me. My kid is seven.”
Before I get to call him out on it, Miguel appears by our side. He takes us in, and understanding dawns on him, making him curse under his breath. “Becky?”
Chase tilts his head toward the house. “Inside.”
“I’m gonna go and check in on her.” Miguel nods, ruffling his son’s hair, as he asks Chase, “Can you keep an eye on the grill?”
“Sure.”
“Do you maybe—” I start, but he’s already rushing toward the house. “Seriously? I could have kept an eye on the grill.”
“Yeah, right,” Chase scoffs. “Just watch over Jax until she’s back.”
“Easy for you to say! You don’t have a child depending on you for survival,” I call out after him, but my brother decides to ignore me. “Great. Just great.”
My gaze falls on Jackson. His brows furrow in a displeased expression, and his small body wiggles in my arms.
“You’re going to fall,” I warn, trying to tighten my hold, but the kid doesn’t like it one bit.
Go figure.
Just one more person who’s not happy with me.
He continues to squirm. Cursing inwardly, I crouch down, trying to get a better grip on him; however, I’m not fast enough. Jackson slips out of my arms onto his wobbly feet.
“Fu—”
Jackson turns around and looks at me. His head tilts to the side, making his dark curls bounce with the motion.
“You planning on giving me a heart attack?”
The kid grins, his two front teeth flashing at me with mischief.
A Williams through and through.
“Your mom’s gonna kill me, dude.”
Does he care? Not at all.
He just turns around and starts waddling away.
“Okay, sure. Do what you wanna do. But no beer. Or girls. Then your mom is really gonna end me. We don’t want that, right? I’m the fun uncle after all. We can’t have you stuck with Chase’s grumpy ass.”
I follow after him, my hands outstretched and ready to catch him if he fumbles. I saw him with Becky earlier, and he isn’t the steadiest on his feet. She didn’t seem worried about it, so I assume it’s normal, but I don’t want to risk him falling. Or injuring himself.
Just then he sways on his feet. Before I can react, he’s already crashing into the bouncy house.
I wrap my fingers around his middle, pulling him back.
But if I expected him to cry, I have another thing coming.
He just grins at me and extends his hands to the castle, so I lift him up and sit him down on the rubber floor, his grin widening as he bounces slightly.
I sit next to him, my weight making the castle pitch and roll some more, and he lets out a shriek of excitement as he starts crawling to the other side, each movement making the house sway slightly.
Jackson seems to be entertaining himself, but I keep an eye on him. My shoulders are tense with every move that kid makes. The last thing I need is for him to get hurt in my care.
The commotion on the terrace draws my gaze, but instead of my sister, I spot the Santiagos. The excited chatter spreads through the yard as Emmett stops by Miguel’s teammates, exchanging handshakes before his arm slips around his wife’s waist.
Jackson lets out a shrill cry, and when I turn around, I find him standing on his feet. He tries to take a step, but his feet are unsteady, and he starts to fall.
I catch him at the very last second, before he face-plants onto the rubber. He tilts his head back and looks at me, shooting me a wicked grin.
“Seriously, kid? I thought we had an agreement.”
I curl my nephew into my arms just as Emmett walks over, holding a little girl’s hand the whole way.
“She put you to work already, I see.” Emmett glances at what can only be his daughter. “Look, Kay, Jackson’s here with his uncle, Matthew.”
The little girl gives us a shy glance before she hides behind her father’s leg.
“Hey, it’s okay. No need to hide. You know Jax,” Emmett reassures softly, his hand landing lightly on her back and giving her a reassuring rub. “She just woke up from her nap, so she’s being shy.”
“No worries on my end. If I were her, I’d also hide from rascals like this one.”
“He’s a wild one.” Emmett grins and extends his hand toward me. “Good to see you, man. When did you get back?”
I awkwardly shift Jackson to my other side before shaking his hand. “Just a few days ago. How you doing?”
“Good. Busy. But I like it that way. Enjoying the time we have before the baby arrives and things get hectic.”
My gaze darts to the terrace where Kate is setting up the table and chatting animatedly with Mrs. Santiago and Mrs. Fernandez.
“Another one?”
Emmett smirks. “What can I say? I have a stunning wife who makes pretty babies.”
Jackson babbles something incomprehensible, making Emmett chuckle. “Hey, Jax, my man. I see you’re ready to party, huh?”
He scrunches his nose, his face turning red.
“He’s not going to cry, is he?” I look around, hoping to spot my sister, but she’s still nowhere to be found. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, no, he’s about to—” Emmett doesn’t get to finish before I hear it. Almost like he farted. Loudly. And then something feels very squishy against my forearm that’s tucked under his butt. “Poop.”
I just stare at my nephew. His face has relaxed, and he’s back to his happy self. I’m still staring at him when the disgusting smell reaches my nostrils. The little pooping monster just grins at me. How can somebody so small produce sounds so loud and have poop that smells like biochemical waste?
“Seriously, dude?” I shake my head. “Seriously?”
His grin grows wider as he squirms a bit, and I can only pray that the diaper is strong enough to contain whatever mess he has made.
“What the hell do I do with you now?”
“Well, I’d suggest getting him out of that diaper. And maybe try not to let him wiggle so much. It’ll be a bitch to clean up.”
Getting him out of the diaper?
As in me?
Hell to the no.
“Oh, I’m not changing him. You’re going back to your parents.” Shifting my grip on him so my fingers are holding him just under his armpits, I extend him in front of me and start for the house. “They can clean you up. Did they not teach you about manners when there are guests around?”
The little dude must find me hilarious because he just giggles out loud. The corner of my mouth tugs upward, but I school my features.
“It’s not funny, dude. Becky?” I call when I step into the house, my gaze scanning the space for my sister. “What are you feeding this kid? He just pooped something that seems like it might be radioactive—”
The words die on my lips as I look around, expecting to see either Becky or Miguel, but the living room is empty.
Because of-fucking-course it is.
I’m pretty sure I can see a dark spot on his pants.
I peek into the dining room and kitchen, but the result is the same. When I turn around, I spot the changing table sitting on the side.
“Oh, Jesus, fu—” Shaking my head, I go to the table, quickly doing a scan to see what I’m working with. There are wipes, and some kind of tube of something, and a bunch of fresh diapers.
How hard can it really be?
“You so freaking owe me, Becs,” I mutter under my breath as I lower Jax onto the mat. He squirms and starts turning around, almost falling off the damn thing. “Kid, I need you to be still.”
But, of course, he doesn’t listen, not that I’m surprised considering who his mother is. I gently press my hand against his stomach, trying to hold him in place as I work on getting his pants over his chubby, moving legs.
My nose revolts when I slip them off and find that I was right, and the freaking bomb exploded in his pants. It takes me a few moments to figure out how to get him out of the body-contraption that dubs as a shirt. Why anybody would put him in that, I have no fucking clue.
When I finally get to the main issue, I’m sweaty from trying to juggle it all, and Jax is so done with me, his face scrunches in protest, cheeks turning pink.
“Just a little bit more, c’mon. It’s not that bad. It would be worse to stay in this stinky diaper.”
Pulling the Velcro straps, I’m hit by the smell almost immediately. My stomach turns, my gag reflex kicking in. Give me blood and bruises any day of the week over this.
Sucking in a breath through my mouth, I try to work quickly as I slip the dirty diaper off, but before I can find where to toss it, Jax turns around and starts crawling away.
Extending one hand, I lean against the mat and grab one of his ankles.
“Get back here.”
The little monster looks at me over his shoulder and grins, not in the least bit affected by my stern tone.
I pull him closer to me, holding on to him as I finally find the trash bag and throw the diaper away.
“Okay, now let’s clean you up.”
I lose count of the number of wipes I use, and it takes me a moment to figure out how to put the clean diaper on him.
It takes some wrestling before he’s in it. I pull back, giving my handiwork a look.
“Let’s be real, this is as good as it’ll get.”
My gaze falls, and I see the dirt on my shirt.
No, not dirt.
Poop.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Grabbing the back of my shirt, I quickly pull it off and toss it along with Jax’s dirty clothes, although in reality that shirt needs to be burned.
“Hey, it’s me,” a feminine voice calls from the hallway, accompanied by soft footsteps. “The door was—”
Her words trail off as she stops in the doorway of the living room, eyes wide when they land on me.
“Trouble.”