Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Give me my color!”
Peter’s scream shocked the hell out of him, and Ian bolted out of the bedroom where he’d been making the bed.
“Not yours!” Tori yelled back. “Ask nice!”
“What is going on?” he asked.
Everything looked normal enough — Tori and Petey were coloring. Tori had a red crayon held up in the air, and Peter was grabbing for it.
“Her has my color!”
“I do NOT!” Tori stared at Peter. “I share, but ask NICE!”
“Is everything okay up there?” JP asked, calling up from the base of the stairs.
“I think so.”
“NO! NO, HER TAKED MY COLOR!” Peter launched himself at Tori, who immediately socked him in the nose.
He grabbed Peter and held them apart. “Tori!”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “What?”
“You can’t hit.” He didn’t understand their trouble.
“He hit me first.”
“I did not. You taked my color.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t. This one is mine.”
JP appeared in the doorway to Tori’s bedroom, panting and leaning hard against the jam. “It doesn’t sound like everything is all right at all. What is going on here?”
“Love! Are you okay?”
“Her taked my color!”
“I DID NOT!”
Ian stared at Tori. “No screaming.”
“You don’t listen!”
JP blinked a couple times, then hauled himself back to standing. “Okay. Clearly these two need to be separated, right? I could take Peter to his room?”
“Please. I need to figure this out and no one is calming down.” He handed Peter over to his other father.
“Come on, Petey, show me your room.” He thought he heard a grunt as JP started walking down the hall, but he chose to ignore it in favor of figuring out what the heck was wrong with Tori.
“Daddy.” Tori stared at him. “I said ask nice.”
“I know, but I don’t understand.” He sat down on Tori’s bed. “Can you tell me?”
She sighed and slapped her hands on her thighs. “Daddy. I no take Petey’s color. This mine.”
“How do you know?” Because the crayons were all exactly the same.
She pointed to her box of crayons, which did have a single red crayon removed. “See? I share, but he has to ask nice.”
“Okay but that still doesn’t make it okay to hit.”
“Him hitted me first.” She glared at him.
“That’s not what I saw, honey. And even if he did, it’s still not okay to hit.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am mad! It is mine color!”
“Since when did you have your own colors? I thought the two of you shared everything?” And they never fought like this, either.
“Dad gave me a box and hims a box. I got two color books. Petey got two color books.”
Where the heck had JP gotten coloring books and crayons?
“Dad did?”
“Uh-huh.” She went to the floor and grabbed two coloring books and a box of crayons, both with her name on them.
“You guys usually share your books and your colors. I guess Dad didn’t know that.”
“I do share!” She stamped her foot. “Petey should ask nice.”
“Yes. Peter should have asked nice.” He took a deep breath. “And it was your red color.”
He could see it, when he said what she needed to hear. She relaxed, her shoulders coming down. “It was.”
“You still shouldn’t have hit your brother,” he reminded her gently.
“Him pushed me first.”
“And I will tell him no pushing, okay?”
“Okay. And ask nice.”
He nodded. “And yes, we should all ask nice for things. Maybe we should have a can for all the colors? We can all share?”
She sighed, but nodded. “But not the books?”
“If you don’t want to share the books that’s okay.” It was probably time they started having their own things anyway.
She hugged him. “Love you, Daddy.”
He hugged her back. “And I love you, Tori. Now what do you think about going to apologize to your brother for hitting him?”
“Him too? For pushing me?” Stubborn girl.
“Let’s start with your apology first, okay?” He hoped that JP had actually talked to Petey about what had gone on.
She rolled her eyes. “I always say sorry first.”
He had to bite back his chuckle. “Well, today you’re the one I talked to, so…”
“So talk to Petey. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and started tugging. Hard.
She was so smart. Maybe too smart, but he let her lead him to Peter’s room.
JP was never so pleased to sit on a twin bed than he was right that minute. Okay, so maybe a chair lift was a good idea if he was going to be coming up here ever again.
He looked at Peter, his son’s lower lip sticking out in the mother of all pouts, the little boy all stiff.
“So what’s going on?” he asked.
“Her was so mean!” Petey sobbed. “Her stealed my color!”
“Come here,” he told Petey, opening his arms. Peter ran into them and he hugged his son, petting his back. He wasn’t sure what was going on because from what he’d seen until now was that Tori was Pete’s fierce protector.
“Her was mean to me, Dad! Her taked my color.”
JP arched one eyebrow and shook his head. “Are you sure? She wouldn’t share?”
Peter wailed and shook his head.
JP was at a loss. He’d never seen the kids fight.
Of course, they were growing up, they would argue. It was inevitable.
Still, Tori wasn’t mean to Peter.
He wanted to know why she wasn’t willing to share to the point they’d argued about it, and, from the way Ian had been holding them apart, they’d gotten physical over it.
JP rocked Peter, looking over the little boy’s room. The coloring books he’d bought the kids were still sitting there on Petey’s little table.
Unused.
He frowned. Peter hadn’t been coloring in his coloring books, but his sister’s?
“Petey? Your colors are in here, son. Did you know?”
Peter shook his head. “No.”
“Look, over on your table. There’s the books. I bet the crayons are here too.” Which would mean Petey had been using Tori’s colors from what little he’d heard, without asking.
“Her had mine red crayon!”
“Are you sure, buddy?”
“Yes!”
Man, nearly four-year-olds were stubborn. Almost as stubborn as their daddy.
“How about we check your box then,” he suggested.
Petey sniffled softly. “‘kay…”
Man, he guessed every little thing was huge at this age.
He watched as Petey went and got the new box of crayons.
Petey handed them over and he opened the box — the red crayon right there.
“She didn’t take your crayon, son.”
“I—” The tears started again.
“I know – you thought it was yours. So you thought she was being mean.” He hugged Petey again, feeling extremely inadequate at this father thing.
“Uh-huh. I sorry.”
The sobs broke his heart.
“It’s okay, Petey. Please stop crying. You can say you’re sorry to her, okay?” He kept awkwardly patting Petey’s back.
“Love you.” Petey snuggled in, holding him tight.
Tori came storming in, eyes flashing. “Sorry for hitting but you should not push and ask nice to share!”
“Tori, that’s not how we apologize.”
His daughter wasn’t crying. She was pissed. “It is TOO!”
JP bit the inside of his cheek because he knew he couldn’t laugh; he knew it. But he sure wanted to.
She stared at Peter, looking like an avenging angel. “You now. You say sorry to me.”
“Sorry. My color is here.” Peter showed her the box.
She rolled her eyes. “We can share. Not the books. You have color books. I have color books. But the colors. ‘kay?”
Peter nodded. “‘kay. Sorry.”
“Hear me when I talk. I know about colors.” She grabbed her brother and hugged him tight.
And that was it? Just that simple? It was good to be almost four.
“I was telling Tori that maybe we could put all the crayons in a big jar and share.” Ian came to sit next to him. “Thank you for the assist, Dad.”
“I didn’t know giving them their own things would cause World War three,” JP admitted. There was a lot about being a dad he didn’t know about.
“They have to learn how to have things to share. Tori was actually doing the right thing, and once I figured that out, she eased up.” Ian rolled his eyes. “You made it up the stairs. Wow.”
“I did. And I tell you what – let’s get that stair chair thing because I am dreading having to make my way downstairs. The adrenaline that got me up here is gone.” He hadn’t even been thinking when he’d come up, only that he’d needed to get up here because the kids were yelling.
“I have an installer coming. I talked to your manager, and he’s dealing with the team for the money.” Ian kissed his cheek. “You can come in the bedroom, use the en suite bathroom.”
“You organized all that? Thank you, Chou.” His manager was supposed to be getting him a settlement now that they’d gotten the news about his prognosis. But at the moment there was nothing coming in, just lots of promises. Sure, they had savings, but money needed to stretch for a long time now, so…
“Someone needs to get things done on that front, and they’re not being proactive.” Look at that frown. It was hot as hell, especially since it was working for him.
“You gonna make sure I’m taken care of, Chou?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt there. “Even if you and I never…got ourselves right again? I made promises to you. I have your back.”
He reached out and took Ian’s hand, squeezed it. “Thank you, Chou.”
“I love you.” Simple as that.
I love you.
God, he’d been needing to hear those words. He met Ian’s eyes. “Me, too, Chou.”
“Do you want to go stretch out in our bed? You haven’t seen the bedroom…”
It probably wasn’t a good idea but the thought of going down those stairs right now made him want to throw up, “I could just lie here, keep an eye on the kids.” He didn’t want to, though. He wanted to lie in their bed. He bet it smelled like Ian.
“There is no room for you in a toddler bed, love. Let me go grab your walker, and we’ll get you settled. It’s going to be better.”
“Yeah it is.” It already was, as long as he didn’t go clomping up the stairs at Mach ten, that was. “Thanks, Chou.”
“No problem. I’ll be right back.”
“Daddy! Bring a color can, please.”
“Sure, Tori. I’ve got it. You two watch your dad for me.”
Watch your Dad for me. Like he was going anywhere before Ian got back.
Petey stood near and stared at him.
“What’s the matter?” JP asked him when it persisted.
“Me’s watching you, Dad. Like Daddy said.”
Tori came over and sat next to her brother. “You don’t come upstairs. You are in Petey’s room.”
“I know I’m in Petey’s room. And I’m here because I could hear you guys arguing, and it was getting loud, so I wanted to help Daddy.”
“Helping is so nice.” Tori nodded to him. “Good job on you.”
He had to bite his cheek once again to keep from laughing. “Thank you,” he said when the threat of laughter abated.
Petey nodded to him. “Thank yous are good too. You are a very big boy. Did you know?”
He nodded. “I did know. I ate all the food growing up.”
“S’ghettis?” Petey asked.
“Burgies?”
“Nugs?”
Tori grinned wide. “Mashed tatoes?”
“Yes, to all of those. And more.” He’d been a bottomless pit as a teenager. And of course, when he’d started playing professionally he’d had a huge calorie count.
“More.” Tori’s eyes went wide. “Broccies too?”
Peter wrinkled his nose. “Ew! Broccies!”
“Broccies… oh! Yeah, I eat broccoli too. It’s really good with cheese sauce.”
Tori shook her head. “No. Broccies is nas-TY.”
“Nope. They’re good. And cheese sauce is really good.”
She wrinkled her nose, glancing at Ian as he came in with the walker.
“See? Even your dad likes broccoli.”
She collapsed onto the floor, so dramatic. “No…”
Petey started giggling.
He grinned. “Absolutely. The greener the better. All those little trees taste soooo yummy.”
Ian got in on it. “Absolutely. Trees are de-lic-i-ous.”
“Ack. Ack. Ack.” Tori rolled around the floor, and Petey laughed so hard he farted.
That made JP laugh, too, cackling.
“Petey! Your butt laughed at me!”
Ian howled with laughter then, cracking up.
Who knew kids could be so funny?
Ian got the walker over eventually, setting it up in front of him.
“Thanks, Chou.” He hauled himself up and used the walker to support himself as he walked from Petey’s room to the main bedroom.
It didn’t look like he remembered. The white walls were a deep blue now, and there was a little sitting area and bookshelves to one side. The bed had a new headboard with tons of pillows.
It was Ian’s now.
He sighed as he eased himself down onto the bed.
“Let me help you settle, and then I’ll get you a drink. I have a remote for the TV and the headboard.”
“There’s a remote for the headboard?” Had he heard right?
“Yeah. There are lights, dimmers, music, and the speakers for the television are in there. Also, the bed moves — a lot like your bed.”
He chuckled. “You got a hospital bed for the bedroom? You got a bad back or something?” He sobered suddenly. Did Ian have a bad back? Was he hurt somehow? He’d never said.
“No. No, I had twins. I had to feed them, sleep with them, change them. I needed help, and this…helped.”
“Ah. That makes sense. I was just worried you’d been hurt somehow.”
“No. No, I just needed something special. I was…” Ian shrugged.
“All by yourself,” he finished for Ian. And that was his fault. Well, their fault. He’d wanted Ian and the kids to come with him. Of course having lived through being in Florida, he thought that wouldn’t have worked out either.
“Yes. And so were you. And we were both sort of stupid.”
He snorted. “You, Chou, are a master of understatement.”
“We have a lot to talk about, to work out.” Ian smiled at him. “But maybe not now?”
He smiled back at Ian, nodded. “Yeah, I’m still recovering from the great crayon meltdown.”
“Yeah. That was great. But, you know, Petey’s butt laughed at Tori, so…”
He chuckled, still tickled at that. “All’s well that ends in a fart, eh?”
He shifted, getting his legs up onto the bed and lying back. He had to admit, he was more than ready for a nap at this point. And the bed did smell like Ian.
Ian settled pillows around his leg, handed him the remote. “I’ll grab you a drink and then wash the sheets from downstairs.”
“Taking such good care of me, Chou.” He held the remote but didn’t do anything with it. His eyes were already closed by the time Ian left the room, and he was asleep.