Junkyard Dog

Candy laughs and rolls over, so her back faces me. My fingers play with her hair, but she ignores me and soon she’s sleeping comfortably.

I imagine her in bed with her kids climbing on her, playing with her hair, and moving around constantly. She has the mom routine down, but she’s rusty with the girlfriend role.

I crash after an hour of watching Candy sleep. Her soft breathing soothes my awkwardness at being in a strange place.

Candy’s alarm is an obnoxious song called Good Morning. I’m ready to punch the singer in the face when Candy rolls over and turns it off. Then she rolls over and rests her hand on my chest. My anger disappears, and I smile. Seeing her when I wake up makes up for the stupid alarm.

“Good morning. I’ll turn on the coffee and get the kids up,” she says, looking at me with sleepy eyes. “You can shower if you want, but it might be tight in there.”

“I’ll manage. The world has always been too small for me.”

Candy grins, and I realize she really is a morning person. Her sleepy gaze is already brightening. I watch her grab her robe and head downstairs. A few minutes later, I smell coffee brewing and hear kids whining.

Forcing myself out of bed, I shut the door and then check out the small adjoining bathroom. Candy wasn’t kidding about the tight shower. I end up washing my face and pits rather than trying to fit into the stall.

Downstairs, I find Candy still in her pjs and the kids dressed for school.

“Coffee,” she says, placing a cup at the kitchen table for me. “Would you mind hanging out while I take a shower?”

I agree with a head gesture since I’ll need a few cups of coffee before I feel like talking to anyone. Candy hurries upstairs to clean up while the kids eat their cereal and watch the living room TV. A few minutes pass before I realize they’re staring at me.

“We got a cat,” Chipper says, digging into his bowl of Apple Jacks.

“Where was the cat last night?”

“She doesn’t like when people knock on the door.”

“She’s a scaredy-cat,” Cricket announces.

The twins snicker, and I smile at how easily amused they are. Kids on TV are always so obnoxious. I like how these two find the simplest shit hilarious. They whisper to each other for a few minutes while I finish one cup of hot coffee and hurry to down another.

“What’s the cat’s name?” I ask, feeling like an asshole for ignoring them.

“Bad Dream,” Cricket says, staring at me with eyes I know well.

“You look so much like your mother,” I mumble without thinking.

“You like her,” Cricket teases and then smiles at Chipper. “Hayes and Mom sitting in a tree.”

“Don’t sing in the morning. It makes my brain hurt.”

“Do you think Mom is beautiful?” Chipper asks.

“Yes.”

“Do you love her?” Cricket asks.

“Yes,” I say and then add, “But don’t tell your mom.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Chipper says. “Cricket isn’t.”

Mouth full of cereal, the little girl nods. “I like telling people stuff.”

“Don’t tell your mom what I said.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise. I have a big mouth.”

“So does your mom.”

The twins laugh and look at the gray and black cat slinking near the doorway. I’m relieved to change the subject from Candy and love.

“What’s the cat’s real name?”

“Dreamy.”

“You’re messing with me.”

The twins shake their heads, thoroughly creeping me out with their identical movements.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what,” Cricket says, staring widely at me. “Are you scared?”

Chipper laughs and then she laughs. Finally, I give in and smile. They’re annoying, but I like them. I’ll like them more if they don’t snitch me out to Candy.

“There you are,” Candy says, picking up the cat. “Where were you hiding all night?”

I enjoy the sight of Candy with her damp hair and fresh face.

“Will Hayes be here when we get home from school?” Cricket asks her mother.

Candy shrugs. “I don’t know. Is your schoolwork in your backpack?”

The twins lose interest in me and begin whining about having to make up a math test. I’m glad to have the heat off me. I’ve never been a social person in the morning. As a kid, my teachers left me alone for the first hour of school or else I’d end up in the principal’s office for being an asshole.

Candy glances at me a few times, but her focus remains on preparing the kids for school. I watch her tie Cricket’s hair into a ponytail. She has such a soft touch when she wants. I admire her tenderness with her children and think again how she’ll make a perfect mother to my kid. She has all the qualities I loved in my mom along with the spunkiness and toughness mine lacked.

I end up alone in the house with a skittish cat and the morning news on the TV. After checking my phone, I relax on the couch I refused to sleep on the night before.

Finding it rather comfortable, I doze until Candy returns home. I open my eyes to find her wearing a grin.