“Cohen, did you hear that? I think there is a ninja downstairs! Let’s go check it out.” And like magic, he’s off. Doesn’t take much. One mention of bad guys to fight, and he is instantly ready to protect the world. It amazes me daily how much Cohen is turning into a mini-Greg. With years of no manly figures in his life, I feel beyond blessed to be able to give this to him.
Over the last three months, the bond between Greg and Cohen has become something that even I don’t have a factor in. He spends more time here than he does with my mom. There are weeks that I have to drag them apart because Greg can’t let go. Forget the actual child; I have to deal with a thirty-five year old man pitching a fit because his little buddy is going back to Nana’s house.
“Meet you downstairs, baby.” I give him a quick kiss before taking off to find my little warrior.
Ever since the incident with Mandy, Greg and I have become even closer. It seems odd that we have formed this type of relationship so quickly but when we are together, no one else in the world matter. He once told me I was his missing piece to the puzzle, and he wasn’t wrong. How I ever thought I would be able to withstand the charms of this man is beyond me.
Mandy isn’t an issue anymore, thank God. Greg has tracked down her father. He is high enough up the political ladder that the last thing he needs is his daughter causing trouble. Greg called and explained the situation. According to daddy dearest, the reason that she has been silent for so long is because he has admitted her to some intensive program that deals with severe bipolar disorder. I personally think that they might want to re-evaluate her for some more shit. There is no way I am buying his excuse. She was two steps away from turning serial killer and trapping Greg in a hole, making him ‘put the lotion on’ every few hours, like that guy in the movie Joe Dirt.
I don’t care either way what happens to her as long as she leaves us the hell alone. Sure, it would be nice to see her ass in jail becoming someone’s bitch, but I want it done. I want her gone so that I can enjoy my happy ever after.
The guard will always be up when it comes to her, but for the most part, we are just ready to move on.
A week after we had made up with the best wall sex turned marathon loving, I had officially broken the lease at my apartment and moved in. The way I see it is life is too short to sit on your ass and not live every minute as if it’s your last. Greg is my future and I’m not going to wait to start living it.
We spend a lot of time talking about our sisters, and how we feel they had a hand in bringing us together. Whether it was them, fate, or just damn good luck, we both agree that we are beyond lucky.
Mom has agreed that with things going so well between Greg and myself, it is time to finally get started on fulfilling Fia’s wish that I have custody of Cohen. It isn’t any issue to start the ball rolling, but there are still hoops we need to jump through and red tape to cut. Regardless of the time it will take, soon enough my little guy will be calling this house home. It is hard to tell who is more excited, me or them.
We had our first meeting with child protective services last week and Greg is positive that things went well. We can provide Cohen a stable and comfortable life. We are both young, and have no blemishes on our background. It helps that we learned that the lady that came out to do our first home study has a son in the Marines. When Greg mentioned that he was honored to meet the mother of such a brave man, I thought I would lose it. They started discussing various concerns that she had about her baby being overseas, and that, in turn, ended up being one of those conversations that ended up so emotional that I had to excuse myself. When she left, Greg gave me the reassurance I needed, but excused himself for a few hours.
We talk about his time spent serving, but usually, he is very short with his answers. He told me once that it isn’t that he doesn’t want to tell me, but that he just can’t. He is a proud man and never shies away from telling me what it was like for him to be serving his country, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. The details are never deep; we just touch on how he felt during those eight years. It is one of those things that he will talk about when I ask him, but I can see the pain that is there, so I don’t question him often.
I walk past Cohen’s new bedroom at the end of the hall and continue downstairs with a smile on my face. I still couldn’t believe how much my life has changed in just a few short months.
How’s this for living, Fia?
“Melwee! I got them, got them all! Can I have Coco Puffs this morning?”