Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
JP didn’t want to make any decisions without talking to Ian. There were too many variables, too many questions they needed to figure out. And honestly, he was scared of the answers to a lot of those questions.
What if Ian was expecting him to get better and find his own place to live? What if Ian never wanted to get back together with him again? What if? What if? What if? Too many fucking what ifs.
It was two days after the bad news and his overdoing it before he felt human again, backing off on the pain pills and doing more than just hurting and sleeping. He supposed he really ought to talk to his husband about the future. At least some of it.
He hadn’t seen a whiff of the kids. He had Mike during the day, then Ian in the evenings.
He had good food, massages, company.
No children.
He wasn’t sure Ian was ever going to forgive him for yelling at Petey, no matter what he’d said.
JP could hear Tori walking outside his rooms, putting her feet down very hard, over and over.
“I hear you, Tori. Come on in,” he called out. Facing her was scarier than having a serious talk with Ian.
She pushed at the door. “You sleepin’? Daddy says you sleepin’.”
“I was earlier, but I’m not now. You can come in.”
She walked in, staying out of reach of him, arms crossed over her chest as she stared.
Oh, he was definitely in big-time trouble with her. “You come for me to read you a story?” he asked. “Or to watch a movie?”
“I—” Her frown deepened. “I wanted to play with you.”
“Okay. What do you want to play?” He was waiting for her to light into him.
“I—You want to play with me?” Poor confused baby.
“I do. What do you want to play?” he asked again.
“I wanna play you love me.”
Damn, that was so sweet. “How do we play that?”
“Okay. Well, you smile and say, ‘Hi, Tori. I like you.’ And I say, ‘Hi, Dad. I like you too.’”
“Well, that’s easy, because it’s the truth.” He smiled. “Hi, Tori, I like you.”
She smiled, her lips quivering. “Hi, Dad. I like you too. My heart hurted when we couldn’t play. My heart hurted when you are mad.”
“Come here, Tori.” He held out his arms. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling very well the last couple days. And I wasn’t mad, I promise.”
She went right to him. “I’m sorry you was sick. Do you feel better?”
He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. “I do actually, thank you for asking.”
She snuggled in close. “Oh, I love playing this. My heart needs you, Dad, okay?”
His own heart squeezed tight inside his chest. “Okay, Tori. I’m here for your heart.”
“I am here for your heart too. You and Daddy and Petey. Do you want a dog?”
“Do I want a dog?” Was this a philosophical question? Did she mean a stuffed dog or a real one? What answer wouldn’t get him in trouble with Ian?
“Uh-huh. I like dogs. I want a fuzzy one with a long tail.”
“Fuzzy with a long tail, huh? What would you call it?” Did he want a dog? Not right now, it would be underfoot and trip him up all the time, he was sure. But maybe when he was feeling better?
“Sulley.” That was fast. Just immediate.
He wondered how long she’d been thinking about having a dog. “Have you talked to your Daddy about having a dog?”
“Uh-huh. Soon. Maybe I will ask Santa?”
He shook his head, because if she asked Santa and she didn’t get a dog? That was a whole can of worms he didn’t want to be responsible for. “I think it’s better to ask your Daddy.”
“Okay. Later. He’s got a headache.”
“That’s too bad. Did he take something for it?” If Ian was downstairs, maybe he could help. If Ian was upstairs, Ian was on his own.
She shook her head, obviously confused. “Daddy’s on the couch with brudder.”
So downstairs. He’d go see if he could help. He needed to get up and move anyway to avoid losing what fucking mobility he actually had. “Shall we go see if we can help him with his headache?”
Tori blinked at him. “You stay in here.”
“Sure most of the time, but I walk around the house to practice walking all the time. And if Daddy needs help, and he’s just in the other room, I can walk to there.” He pointed to the walker. “That’s what that is for – to help me.”
“Oh. I get it for you?” She bounced and beamed at him. “I help!”
“That would be wonderful – thank you.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Yeah, much better than the last two days. He was going to have to find a balance between pushing just enough and pushing too far.
“I bring it to you?” She pulled the walker over in tiny little increments. “I bring it to Dad!”
“You’re doing a great job. Just make sure you don’t bash it into my legs, okay?” He leaned against the bed, ready to grab the sides of it as soon as it was in range to help her not hit him with it.
“No hitting. Hitting is bad.” She tugged and pulled, lips tight.
“That’s right. Hitting is always bad.” Even if he did want to grab a hammer and take it to every breakable thing in the house and scream about how unfair life was.
She got the walker close enough he could grab it, and he beamed at her as he settled it in front of him.
“What a big help you were, Tori, thank you.”
Oh, look at that smile. It lit her face up, and he had to grin at her. “Welcome!”
“Let’s go find Daddy.” He clomped along, a little gently at first, but his leg didn’t protest too much. Maybe he’d just overdone it some and not wrecked anything. He hoped that was the case.
Ian was on the sofa, washcloth over his eyes, Peter playing with building blocks on the floor in front of him.
He watched for a moment, trying to stay quiet. “You okay?” he asked softly – if Ian was sleep that wasn’t likely going to wake him.
“What’s wrong?” Ian sat up in a rush. “Did the kids bother you?”
Peter went to hide behind the sofa.
He sighed at Peter’s reaction to seeing him. Damn it. “No, I’m fine. You’re the one who’s got a headache, right? I came to see if I could help.”
“Oh.” Ian blinked at him, eyes red-rimmed. “Please. Do you mind watching the babies with me? I need a pill.”
He moved to sit in the easy chair next to the couch. “Tada! Ready to watch the kids. Hey, Petey, you want to show me what you were building? I won’t bite, I promise.” He wasn’t going to yell, either.
Peter stayed behind the sofa, and Ian just picked him up and plopped him on the couch on his way to the medicine cabinet.
“You can play blocks?” Tori asked him.
“Well, if we put them on the coffee table, I could.” He was pretty sure he could get down on the floor, but he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to get back up again.
“Come.” Tori stared at Peter, pointed to the floor, and Petey glared.
“No.”
“You could come and sit with me,” JP offered, patting his lap. “I might need some help building. It’s been a long time since I played with blocks.”
Peter stared at him, and he forced himself to be chill. He’d faced defenders and referees and angry coaches — surely he could deal with a four-year-old with hurt feelings.
He gave Peter a half smile. “It would really help me if you would.”
Peter frowned deeply. “No yells, okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, no yells. I’m sorry I yelled before. I was hurting pretty hard.”
“Hims sick, brudder. Hims so sick.”
Peter burst into tears. “I sorry!”
“No, no. You don’t have to cry! Please! I know you didn’t mean it. I know you’re sorry.” He sighed, feeling like a horrible human being. “I’m sorry.”
Peter came to him and climbed up, hugging him tight. “You okay. Poor, poor Dad. I hold you.”
Okay, his heart was just going to explode. “Thank you, Peter. That’s a really big help.”
These babies were so forgiving, so eager to love and to connect. That was all on Ian.
He rocked with Peter for a bit, letting his eyes close, letting that little body and Peter’s care help heal him, just a little.
Tori moved the blocks, then frowned and stood. “Where did Daddy go? I need a drink.”
“You can wait ‘til he gets back, eh?” He didn’t think five minutes was going to kill her.
“Okay! I make a house.”
That…worked.
Weird.
“Is it our house?” he asked, still rocking with Peter. He thought he could go to sleep right here like this. There was something about a warm child lying trustingly in your arms…
“Uh-huh. We gotted my room and Petey’s room and Daddy’s room and Dad’s room.”
“What about the kitchen?”
“And the potty!” Peter added.
He chuckled. “Don’t forget that. It might be the most important room in the house.”
“Uh-huh.” Peter’s expression was so very serious. “Bafs and pooping in the potty.”
“Yeah. Very important.” He kissed the top of Peter’s head, pleased that he was sticking around while his sister built the ‘house’ with the blocks.
“Uh-huh. Very ‘portant.” Peter lifted his face and kissed his cheek.
He was so pleased that all seemed to be forgiven. This little guy and his sister were becoming more and more important to him every day.
Ian came in from the bathroom, his skin a touch gray.
“Daddy, can I have a drink?”
“Sure, baby. Anyone else?”
“As you’re going in there, I’ll have some water, please. Then I think you need to sit for a while. Maybe even go lie down. We’ll order supper tonight.” Frankly he was worried Ian was going to pass out.
“Chickies and taters?” Tori asked.
“Or s’ghettis?” That was Peter.
“Can we each get what we want?” JP asked Ian. He didn’t want to say no to either of them.
“Love, I don’t care. I just want to sit for a minute.”
“Of course, sit. You look like you’re going to pass out. Maybe I should call Mike.” He would know what to do.
“Give me a minute for the meds to work, and I’ll be fine.” The kids got their sippy cups, he got a bottle of water, then Ian settled back down on the sofa.
“Close your eyes and go to sleep for a while. ‘K, Chou?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be right here, if you need me.”
Oh, he definitely needed Ian, but he just said, “Okay.”
Peter crawled down and went to Ian, climbing to snuggle him. “Poor, poor Daddy.”
Oh they were a fine pair, weren’t they, little Peter having to give them both snuggles and hugs.
“Mmhmm…poor, poor Daddy’s head. My good boy.” Ian patted him carefully.
He watched for a long moment, admiring Ian before turning his attention back to Tori and the house she was building.
Tori sang as she built, then she knocked the house down, and built again. It was kind of fascinating.
It was also mesmerizing and he just stared, kind of zoning out.
He had to admit, it felt good to be out here, out of the little makeshift room, with his family.
And he also had to admit that he could get used to this. He really could.