“I hope so, because if you two get serious, he’ll be in my life so the nicknames will need to stop.”
“Is he still calling you names?” I run my hands over my peach-colored scars on my face. When I first touched them, it felt weird and I wasn’t sure how it would be. It’s my insecurity, and I don’t think that people understand how deep the wounds go when they make their comments or stare like I’m this monster.
“Yes he does. I’ll try to be nice to him when he is with you.” Brittany gets into her car to leave as I walk into my kitchen. I set the box from London on the counter as I look around my office. I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now.
My kitchen is the same as when I was growing up—light yellow and the old style appliances. When I redid the house to make it into my business, the contractor wanted to cut it, but I refused to let that happen. My gram cooked in this kitchen—taught me to cook and everything I have ever wanted to know about family. I pick up the box and head to my office. I remodeled my living room to look like an office where there is a desk, couches, and a counter so Brittany can have full function. My dining room turned into my workshop as my office was simple—desktop, filing cabinets and a few pictures on the wall. I didn’t want to spend a lot of time in here because my workshop is where I feel the most comfortable.
Lance - 4
“Daddy!” I hear as soon as I shut the door to my four-bedroom house. I set my briefcase down and see Devin running to me. I get my feet planted just in time for him to jump into my arms. “You’re home.”
“I am, buddy.” I carry him into the kitchen to see London in the refrigerator. I look at the clock on the stove and see it’s 7:30. “Sorry I’m late, but thank you for picking him up. The meeting ran longer than what I thought.”
I buy failing businesses and either restructure them get them making a profit and sell, or disband the company. I usually restructure them, but I keep a lot of the business that spark an interest. I also own a bar with my best friend, Craig Reid; he runs it full-time but I go in three nights a week to check it out and maybe wet my dick.
“It’s okay. Devin and I have been having fun.” London turns the music back on and Devin starts to dance.
“A dance party, can I be invited?” Devin shakes his head while spinning around the island. “What’s for dinner?”
“Hot dogs, tater tots, and mac and cheese. Little man here couldn’t decide.” London ruffles his hair, and Devin pushes away from her.
“Don’t touch me.” He stomps on her foot then goes running. I run after him to see where he goes and what he does. I turned my office downstairs into a room for him—he likes to call it his “calm down” room.
Devin starts to throw everything he can at the window—books, his shoes, the soft blocks, and the chair. “Devin, no!” My tone was stern but not yelling. I need him to know that this is not okay without scaring him.
“Dad, get out.” He stands up from his lying on the floor position. He tries to pull me out of the room but he can’t match my weight.
“No.”
“I said out,” Devin yells before kicking my shins. I try to get him to stop, but it doesn’t work, so I grab him and slide down the wall to just hold him while he’s kicking and screaming. After a few minutes, his breathing starts to even out and I can tell that he’s fast asleep. I sigh in relief as I hold him. I never want to let him go.
This is what my mom doesn’t understand when it comes to me and relationships. Devin comes first. The women she meets tell her what she wants to hear but once the subject with Devin comes up between her and me, they want to send him away or ignore him. I’m a single dad,, and my son comes first.
I carry him upstairs to place him in his room. London had already given him a bath so he was wearing his Ninja Turtle pajamas. I cover him up then turn on his CD player to play his lullabies.
“I’m sorry, I should know better.” I turn to see London with tears on her face. I walk over to her after kissing his forehead, pull London into me, and kiss her temple.
“There is nothing to be sorry about. This is our life, good and bad. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
“Come eat. We can work on the list for mom’s party.” I nod but I stand in the doorway, watching my son sleep. I sigh as I head downstairs the kitchen. Loosening my tie, I take it off. Devin’s episodes drain me but seeing him going through that breaks my heart. I feel like I failed him as a parent. I go to a support group but all they do is bitch about their kids. When I see Devin so scared, angry, and confused it has me wondering if I should be doing more. Rubbing my hands down my face, I try to stop the tears from falling. As a parent you never want your child to hurt.
“All right, let’s plan this party,” I say, tossing a tater tot into my mouth.
Riley - 5