"Gavin, come on. Mommy doesn't feel good," I complained.
He stopped bouncing and leaned forward to sprawl his body out on top of me, putting his face right up to mine.
"Do you want me ta' beat up your friends, Mommy?" he whispered conspiratorially.
I removed my hands from my head and opened my eyes to look at him.
"What are you talking about, Gav?"
He brought his hands up and put them on my chest, resting his chin on top.
"Your friends, Mommy. The ones who maded you sick," he said in a voice that clearly screamed, "Duh."
I wrapped my arms around his little body and shook my head at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about, buddy."
He let out an exasperated sigh. Poor kid. He got stuck with a dumb mother.
"Papa says your friends Johnny, Jack and Jose maded you sick. Friends shouldn't do stuff like that, Mommy. If Luke maded me sick, I'd punch him in the nuts!"
"Gavin! Come on, we don't say things like that," I scolded him.
"Fine," he huffed. "I'd tickle him in the nuts."
Jesus Christ on a waffle cone. There's a reason why some animals in the wild eat their young.
"Just don't talk about nuts," I said with a sigh, rolling over so he slipped down onto the bed next to me with a giggle as he went.
"My best friend Luke talks about nuts. He showed me his wiener once. Do girls have wieners? Papa took me to breakfast and I ate fwee pancakes wif syrup and sausages, and Papa let me have Dr. Pepper last night wif dinner, and I told him I'm not allowed to have pop wif dinner but he told me not to tell you, and I said okay but I forgot. Can we go to the park?"
Make it stop. Please God just make it stop.
"SO HOW YOU FEELING THERE CLAIRE?" my dad screamed at the top of his lungs as he lounged against the door frame to my room with a cup of coffee in his hand.
I squinted one eye open and peered at him through it, trying to muster up a dirty look but my face hurt too much to do that.
"Really funny there, old man. Don't make me come over there and punch you. When I don't feel like puking. And my legs start to work again," I muttered as Gavin fidgeted and kicked and scrambled his way over top of me to get off the bed.
He ran across the room to my dad and threw himself at his legs, his head smacking into the family jewels.
"Shit! Gavin, you gotta be careful there, buddy," my dad wheezed as he picked him up.
"Papa, can we go to the shit-park?"
I have to give it to my dad, he never laughed at that shit. Er, stuff. I don't know how the hell he always kept his composure. As long as Gavin didn't do that sh..stuff in public and embarrass the hell out of me, it was hard not to laugh.
"Gavin, remember the talk we had last night about big-people words? Well, shit is one of those big-people words. You don't say it," my dad said sternly as he looked into Gavin's eyes.
"Can I says it when I'm a big boy?"
"Yes, you can SAY it when you're a big boy," he replied.
Gavin seemed satisfied with that answer and forgot all about the shit-park. My dad put him down and he ran out the door and down the hall to his room.
"Thanks for watching him last night after Liz got home to Jim," I said as I pushed myself up in bed and leaned against the headboard.
"Yep."
He stood there staring at me silently while he sipped his hot coffee. He knew something was up. I liked to have some drinks every now and then, but getting tanked like I did last night, especially at work, meant something bad happened. Thank God Liz stayed with me at the bar all night and made sure I didn’t drop any more glasses or puke in someone’s lap.
I don’t even know how I’m supposed to process what happened last night. Or more to the point, who happened last night. As soon as I saw his face, I knew. Those eyes were a dead giveaway. Aside from the fact that I used to dream about those blue eyes and would remember his face no matter how much time had passed, I’ve had to look into those same eyes every single day for the past four years.
Fuck!
I'm pretty sure the wet dream I was having this morning was about him too.
Double fuck!
His voice was a dead giveaway as well. That deep raspy voice that murmured the words "Jesus, you're so fucking beautiful" in that dark bedroom five years ago floated through my mind all the time. After I tipped the tray full of glasses and dropped down behind the bar, I sent a panicked look to the other end where Liz sat. Without hesitating, she got to my side to see what was wrong. My frantic words of “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, IT’S HIM, HOLY SHIT LIZ IT’S HIM AND HE’S HERE AND HE SAW ME AND OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS RIGHT NOW!” spurned her into action and she popped her head up to get a better look at him. After just a few seconds she dropped back down to my hiding place and with a squeal and a clap of her hands she confirmed it was him.