Chapter 8- Part Two: When the bottle is in fact half empty.

Chapter 8 Part Two

We spent about an hour after breakfast attempting to teach little Timmy the proper way to enunciate his words. It was an activity I had suggested we do after we’d visited the doctor days before, and which he’d finally agreed to do.

Despite the doctor’s words, however, I was not convinced that the way Timmy spoke was ‘normal’. I’d met many a two year old who spoke full and decipherable sentences and what Timmy spoke—as a child approaching the age of three—was gibberish. Plain and simple.

As expected though, it didn’t take very long for Timmy to grow bored with the entire ordeal, but it was only when he started making a fuss that we found a way to make a game out of his learning experience.

And so it continued. Every day we took on the task after breakfast, after which time we worked on the patio under the harsh sunlight, until the days melted into a week, then two. We’d established a routine; the three of us, and I found myself falling into the comfort of it; enjoying the company of my guests, learning about them and from them.

Learning; and when I’d learned a great deal…loving.

It was on the third week that a shift in our routine occurred and it came the night Jason exited his room with an overnight bag and little Timmy in tow, announcing his intention to spend the night with a friend.

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have affected me the way it did. After all, he had a life too and if he wanted to run off with his kid for a night, who was I to ruin it for him.

But it did affect me. In fact, it made me think about possibilities I had not even considered in a while. Things like him and Timmy disappearing out my front door and never coming back. Things like Jason visiting a long lost lover. Things like the two of them getting hurt when I wasn’t there to protect them and finally, things like; me…going back to the life I’d had before I’d met them.

Three and a half weeks and my life had changed so drastically, that the thought of living any other way scared me. I stared down into the mouth of the half empty beer bottle and frowned.

“You know, frowning at it won’t make it disappear any faster.”

I looked up at the sound of my father’s voice and my frown deepened. So lost was I in my own thoughts, that I’d forgotten we’d been having a conversation.

I took a swig of the bitter liquid and it did nothing to change my mood. It had only been a few hours since they’d left, but I missed my boys and drinking away my sorrows with my father wasn’t making it any easier to deal with.

“I should have let him give me the address before he left.” I mumbled to myself. “Anything could happen and I won’t be there to do a thing about it.”

I caught my father’s slow shake of the head from the corner of my eye. “They were getting by just fine before you stuck your nose in son.” He said. “I think they can manage a single night without you.”

“Yeah, but Timmy left that stupid stuffed bunny, which means he’ll have a hard time sleeping tonight and Jason d—”

“You need to get a grip Michael. This isn’t like you.” My father scolded.

“I think it’s sweet.” I looked up when my mama entered the room; a soft smile of her kind face and I welcomed her touch when she wrapped his small arms around me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Aint nothing sweet about it. He’s making those boys turn him inside out. It aint healthy Marie.” Dad interrupted, his eyes following my mother as she crossed the kitchen to open the fridge door.

“It’s good he has someone to care for. I was starting to worry he would never find a nice boy and settle down.”

“It isn’t like that mom.” I interjected and she fixed me with a pointed look.

“I’m serious...they’re just guests.”

“Yeah and you’ve fallen in love with them.”

I started to shake my head, then paused. In some ways I suppose she was right. Somewhere along the way I’d started to care deeply for them both, and while I could see that those feelings were reciprocated by little Timmy, Jason remained unmoved. Three and a half weeks and he sometimes still regarded me with caution, still struggled to open up and kept our conversations to a minimum.

It was a damn shame that it didn’t stop me from feeling the way I did. I did love them…like a man loved his family. They were just the sort of people you couldn’t help loving. But to be in love…in love with Jason? I didn’t know that I would call it that, having never experienced the emotion myself, but I cared about him…maybe more than I should, but god help me, it was there.

I ignored my father’s concerned stare and tipped the bottle to my head, before depositing what was left on the table before me. I’d been with my fair share of guys; One night stands, a few quick minutes in an empty bathroom stall. I’d even tried a few doomed-from-the-start relationships, but no matter how long they lasted or how much I’d come to care for any of them...it had never been like this.

The question that kept popping up into my head was why exactly was it like this? I still didn’t know him...not really. In the weeks he’d lived under my roof, the only real facts I’d learned was that his father was a dick, he’d dropped out of school pretty young and he  was more than a fan of orange juice.  How could you really care for a person whom you knew next to nothing about?

Timmy on the other hand…Timmy I knew. I knew the things that made him laugh and smile; like a good tickle, a funny face and a clean bunny. I knew the things that made him cry; like forcing him to put clothes on, bedtime and when either of us scolded him.

I also knew the things that made him scared; like being all alone in a dark room, the sound of the vacuum and sitting on the toilet without someone holding his hands. I knew him. I understood him and this knowledge justified how I felt about him.

But Jason? Jason was a mystery. A man who cared more for his son’s comfort than his own. Who raised Timmy with a firm voice and a gentle hand. Whose stubbornness knew no bounds.

Jason, who used a dictionary to teach himself words he didn’t understand while reading. Whose love for books surprisingly surpassed my own. A man who tried to hide the fact that he actually enjoyed working with his hands. Who frowned when he was upset, smiled when he was happy and had yet to laugh in my presence.

A man who kept his every thought, every feeling bottled up and finally, a man who’d been hurt so many times by the world, yet still had the courage to fight back.

I shook my head. No…I didn’t know him at all, so whatever it was that I was feeling was simply inexplicable.

“What’s going happen to them when the patio’s done?” Dad once again interrupted my thoughts and I glanced up at him. “It’s been weeks in the making; can’t be long now before it’s complete.”

I’d already thought this through of course. “Turns out Jason’s pretty good with cars. Figured I could get him a job down by Uncle Niko’s garage.”

The chief didn’t look impressed. “Yeah? And what’ll happen to the kid when he’s working?” his eyes narrowed. “You’ll be back to work  yourself in two weeks. Whose gonna take care of the boy?”

This…I didn’t have an answer for, but I was confident that Jason trusted me enough now to hear me out on the issue. We’d figure it out.

“You can take him here in the days. I’ll take care of him.” My mom announced from her place by the stove and I glanced at her in surprise.

“You’re willing to take up the responsibility of taking care of a kid you haven’t even met?” I questioned her and she glanced around with a shrug.

“Then take him here to meet me. It’s about time anyway.”

“Now Marie—” Dad began, only to be cut off by my mom’s next words.

“I’ve made up my mind. While you’re off to work, I’m here by myself. A child will be a good way to bring some life into this place.”

I smiled. “Thanks mom…I was actually considering preschool to be honest. He’s talking a little better now, figured maybe he could learn other things.”

“Whatever you think is best dear. Just know that I’m available and willing to help.” She invited and I was grateful for her support.

……………………………………

It was late by the time I stepped out of my parent’s house and into the chilly night air. It was great not having to deal with the twinge I was accustomed to feeling in my shoulder in weather like this. The pain reared its ugly head at the most inopportune times, but for the most part I was back to my usual competent self. It was the very reason I’d been cleared to go back to work in a couple weeks.

I’d be around a desk for a while, but it would be good to be back. When I strapped on the seatbelt and started the car, I made the conscious decision to stop by the grocery store on the way home. Between the patio building, teaching little Timmy and my regular physiotherapy visits, I hadn’t had the time to restock the fridge and pantry.

I shook my head. If the guys could just see my now—grocery shopping on a perfectly good Friday night. I chuckled. How the times had changed.

The grocery store was practically empty tonight, yet somehow, I managed to find myself trapped in a conversation with a woman who explained to me the importance of sanitizing my home and the evils of fried chicken. Then with the cashier guy named Roger who was kind enough to tell me that the brand of orange juice I’d picked up wasn’t exactly the safest to consume, going further still, to recommend the more expensive, environmentally friendly brand…which apparently tasted better anyway.

And who could forget the security guard by the door, who, after checking my bags to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently stolen anything—saw the kiddie nightlight and made it his duty to tell me the story of his own kid’s fear of the dark and how she’d overcome it through sheer bravery and a good talking to.

By the time I got to my car, stashed the bags into the trunk and waited in the long exit line, I was exhausted. I honestly couldn’t say how I managed to unpack the groceries when I got home, pick up all the toys Timmy had strewn about the house, throw in two loads of laundry and still find the time to install the kids-safe toilet seat I’d purchased, in the bathroom so Timmy would stop thinking he was going to fall in—which, to be fair to him, was certainly a possibility.

It wasn’t until the doorbell went off early the next morning, that I realized I’d fallen asleep— boots and all—on the couch the night before.

I could hear Timmy’s voice on the other side before I even pulled the door open and when he saw me standing there, he launched into my arms with a squeal. I scooped him up and ruffled his midnight curls.

“Hey buddy, you missed me?” I asked him and his immediate response was to wrap his tiny arms around my neck.

Jason’s entrance was a bit more subdued. He offered me a shy smile as he closed the door behind him and deposited the bag on the table by the light switch.

“How was your night?” I asked him as we made our way to the family room.

He shrugged. “It was alright. Timmy couldn’t sleep though...I forgot his bunny.” He confessed and I nodded, just as Timmy glanced around at his father with a frown.

“Timmy can haf bunny now?”

I grinned and gestured to the large container by the TV where we stored all his toys. Jason crossed the room, and it was when he bent to lift the lid off the thing that I saw it—the deep red hickey nestled just below his ear.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

THERE YOU GO WITH PART 2. HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE LITTLE JOURNEY INTO MICHAEL'S THOUGHTS.

LOOKING FORWARD TO POSTING MORE CHAPTERS. THANKS FOR READING!

-DoUbLe.A

-unedited.