Chapter 7: Laying the foundation.

Chapter 7

I couldn’t say what it was that woke me that night. Perhaps it was some deep instinctual feeling, or perhaps there had been a creaking of the floor boards from a light footfall…I couldn’t say. But my first and only thought when I did, was that Jason was running away with little Timmy in tow— again.

I knew I should have remained on the couch another night, knew it was ridiculous to trust him to stay after all the hell he’d given me to leave, but like a fool I’d given him the benefit of the doubt. I hopped out of bed, not bothering to pull on more than a pair of boxer-shorts before I skated down the hall and down the stairs as fast as my feet could take me.

The silence was deafening and by the time I reached the closed front door my heart was pounding in my chest. How far had they gotten? What if I was too late? The words entered my mind and the deep-rooted fear that slammed into me at the thought of them disappearing into the night, never to be seen again, stunned me.

When had I become so emotionally involved? Why did the thought of a life without them affect me so much when I’d only known them for a few short days?

“Michael?”

I froze with my hand on the door knob when I heard my name, then spun to face Jason, who stood across the room in front of the bookshelf. His expression was one of surprise.

I released the breath I’d been unconsciously holding and took a step toward him.

“I thought—”

“That me and Timmy took off.” He surmised and I could only look on at him…my heart still pounding in my chest, as the adrenaline worked its way out of my system.

I took another step toward him. “What’re you doing up so late?”

He shrugged and turned his attention to the bookshelf. “Can’t sleep… I just wanted to look at the books you got.”

I glanced at my well-stocked shelf. “Yeah? You like to read?”

Another shrug. “I used to read a lot when I was a kid…but I aint done that for years.”

I closed the distance between us and stood by his side inspecting the books I’d passed by every day since I’d moved into the place.

“What type of books do you like?”

Yet another shrug. “The ones that make me laugh I guess…those were my favorites…but I liked this book called Matilda too...it didn’t make me laugh, but I remember I liked it.” He explained with a frown.

I glanced down at his bare feet, then at the pajamas I’d bought him and I felt a strange warmth in my chest…like a mixture of nervousness and…and…something I didn’t want to think about.

When he tilted his head to get a better look at the books on the top shelf, his midnight-black curls fell just below his shoulders, and not for the first time, I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through them.

Everything about him seemed so delicate. It was a wonder he survived out there in the harsh world—raising a kid on top of it all. I glanced down at his feet again, loving how comfortable he seemed in my home. Looking like a man who belonged here.

I cleared my throat. “Timmy asleep?”

He nodded. “Yeah…and those big raisins you got for him worked real good…he went right to the toilet when he was done eat’n’.”

“Good, they’re called prunes. I’m glad they worked.” I didn’t know what else to say after that. Finding myself speechless was definitely a rare occurrence and I found that I didn’t like the feeling all too well. I shifted from foot to foot.

“I was thinking we could get started on the patio around ten tomorrow morning...that alright for you?”

“Yeah I don’t got a issue with it.” He said, then bit his lip, his focus on the shelf. It was interesting to see just how enthralled he was with them.

I watched as he raised his arm to reach for a book, then froze, glancing my way with wide, cautious eyes. “Is it okay if I maybe look at it...I aint gonna mess it up or nothin’...I just wanna see what it’s about.”

I nodded. “For now you’re living here…you don’t need to ask me…you can use whatever you want.”

He nodded slowly, before he reached for the smallest book on the shelf. It was a science fiction novel I’d bought back when I was a freshman in college.

“You mind if I stay down here and read for a little while?”

“For as long as you stay here, my house is your house…do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

He looked around the room slowly, as if he wasn’t sure just what to do, then finally he made his way over to the couch and sat.

“Your house is my house?”

“Yeah…you don’t need to ask permission to use anything here.”

“I aint never had my own house before.” he frowned, looking around the room again and I wondered what was floating through his mind. So for once I asked.

“What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “One day I’m gonna have a house like this. A real one though…for me and Timmy, with a TV and everything.”

I smiled. “I know you will.”

His brows furrowed. “How come?”

“Because if you want something badly enough and you work for it, you’ll get it.”

He nodded slowly. “I aint no slacker. I’m gonna work real hard on your patio.” He assured me and I took in his determined expression.

How did a guy like this really end up on the streets?

When his eyes caught and held mine, I could have sworn he blushed, but the soft lighting made it impossible to tell.

I cleared my throat. “So you’re staying down here for a while?”

He shrugged. “If I turn on the light in the room Timmy will wake up so I’m gonna read down here maybe.”

I nodded. “Alright.” I gestured to the book he still held in his hands. “You’ll like that one.”

“Maybe.”

I turned to go. “Try to get up early. I want to get to work outside as early as possible.”

Another nod. “I was wondering…” he began hesitantly and I glanced back at him. “Could I take Timmy to see the Christmas lights down the street tomorrow night…they have them up at the houses...I saw them and Timmy likes the lights. I made him see some last year.”

I faced him. “Jason I’m not keeping you two here. You’re free to come and go with Timmy. You don’t have to ask my permission.”

He frowned. “But you said—”

“I said I won’t let you live with him on the street. As long as at the end of the night he’s sleeping in a safe home, I don’t have a problem with you two going wherever you want.”

“So I can take him anywhere I want, even if it’s for the whole day

“This isn’t a prison and he’s your kid.”

“Yeah okay.”

A moment of silence passed between us as our gazes held. Then finally I bid him goodnight.

“Night.” Came his shy reply and God knows I would have stayed down here and kept him company if I didn’t know any better.

I turned and left the room, taking the stairs a step at a time until I was back into my room and in bed.

Sleep was a long time coming.

…………………………….

It was 8:30 am when I ventured down the stairs the next morning—not quite rested, but unable to spend another minute wrapped up in the sheets. I had a lot to get done and after spending half the night with my houseguest on my mind, I needed work to keep me busy and focused.

I glanced into the family room on my way to the kitchen and spotted Jason knocked out on the couch—the book opened face-down on his chest and a dictionary on the floor beside him.

I didn’t hear even a shuffle upstairs, so I assumed his son was still asleep. I flipped on the radio down the hall, set the volume to low and entered the kitchen.

It was definitely easier deciding what to make for breakfast when it was just me here. Now I had to think about my guests and what to serve them. Was it okay to repeat meals? Or did you have to prepare something different the next day?

This domesticated shit just wasn’t for me.

I opened the cupboard and glanced around, cataloging the ingredients and working out what I could make with them. I pulled out a small bag of chocolate chips, then an unopened box of pancakes and set them on the counter.

Everyone loved chocolate chip pancakes. Then I thought of my sister and her adamancy in relation to her kid not having candy for breakfast and I wondered if Jason would hold the same convictions.

I pulled out the container of blueberries I’d picked up at the grocery store the day before.

Blueberry or chocolate pancakes. I looked between the two and decided to make them both. If they had a problem, I’d take them out to eat.

I sighed. This shit wasn’t easy.

“Micha.” I glanced up at the sound of Timmy’s voice and grinned when he entered the kitchen with a fresh-faced Jason half an hour later.

“Morning little guy.” I greeted him and his dimples appeared in full glory when he smiled up at me.

“I made pancakes.” I explained to Jason, who’d been eyeing the food the moment he stepped into the room.

“Here, put these on the table.” I held out the two massive plates of pancake and he released Timmy’s hand to take them.

When Timmy stood there looking up at me expectantly, I handed him a spoon. “Here, you can put this on the table.”

I grabbed the jug orange juice and my cup of coffee and followed slowly behind him as he made his way over to the table.

He handed the spoon to Jason then promptly climbed up onto the chair he’d clearly dubbed as his.

“One plate’s blueberry and one’s chocolate.”

“I never had these kinds before...” Jason confessed and when I gestured to the plates in offering he added one of each to his own plate, cut them both in half and placed the half slices in Timmy’s plate.

Timmy went at it without question, using both his hands to help him stuff his face.

Unlike the day before, breakfast was a quiet affair, but it was a comfortable silence that made the meal all the more enjoyable. Jason went for seconds, Timmy managed to tip his entire cup of orange juice into his plate of pancakes and when he realized they were too soggy to eat, reached across to his father’s plate and helped himself to more.

“Timmy you gotta watch what you’re doing.” Jason scolded and for whatever reason little Timmy looked at me miserably…like I was the bad guy.

I shook my head. I’d never understand kids.

…………………………………………

“Once they’re firmly in the ground, we’ll tie the string on each stake so that it forms a rectangle. That’s when we’ll start digging.”

“So we’re using the strings so we can dig out the right shape?” Jason enquired and I nodded.

We were outside getting ready to prepare the bed of the soil for the patio. I wanted it to be relatively large, which meant it would take a lot of work and with just the two of us at it, it would take a while to complete, but I had the time.

I watched him as he pounded the wooden stake into the soil, making sure he set them in just the right places. I pulled the cap lower over my eyes to block out the glare of the sun, then when I was satisfied with his progress, I began to bring the rest of the equipment from the shed. Every now and then I glanced over at Timmy to make sure he was where he was supposed to be—playing in the grass with his toys.

I rolled my shoulders, hoping my injury wouldn’t be a problem today. So far I hadn’t felt so much as a twinge as went back and forth with the equipment we’d need for the day and I hoped it stayed that way.

When I set down the shovel, I picked up the other hammer and went to help him out. He’d made good progress so far. We only had three more stakes to hammer in before we could start tying the string, and I got to it.

“That one’s not in line…pull it out and line it up properly.” I instructed when he tried to hammer the next.

I watched as he stood and stretched, flexed his fingers and wiped the sweat from his brow before he knelt to do as I’d told him.

He got it right the second time and I went back to work.

“How come you’re doing a patio?” he questioned as he hammered. “You could do something nice, like a pool or something.”

“I’ll probably do that eventually… but it would be nice to have a place to relax at the end of the day, or to entertain guests.”

“You could relax at a pool too.”

“I guess I could.”

“And you could have some of those adjustable chairs so you could lie down and when you’re sick of that you could just go swim.” He continued. I was pleasantly surprised he was so talkative today.

“You’ve got a point there I guess.”

He stood and looked at me. “You want us to just do a pool instead then? I could just take out all these stakes…it’s cool.”

I laughed. “Preparing the soil for a pool is going to take a lot more work than two men can handle. Especially with my injury.”

He shrugged. “I guess…and you’d have to buy a bunch of other materials. It’s gotta be expensive. Not a lot of people have pools.”

“Maybe one day.”

He nodded, then glanced over at his son who had discarded the hat I’d placed on his head as he drank water from the bottle I’d given him earlier.

When I’d hammered the last stake into the soil, I grabbed the roll of thick string and threw it his way. He caught it before it hit the ground and we unrolled it. I demonstrated to him just how I wanted it to be tied and he followed suit, pulling it around each stake carefully and tying it off properly.

Ten minutes later he was done and he glanced up at me. “Now what?”

I handed him a mattock and I took the other, before stepping over a stake and into the center of the large rectangle.

“Now we dig.”

“How deep?”

“About five inches should do it.”

He looked at the ground uncertainly. “You start so I know exactly how much.”

So I lifted the mattock at slammed it into the grass, watching as it pulled apart with effort, again and again, in line with the string. Jason watched for a bit before he finally lifted his own tool and started on it.

It was when I raised it slightly off the ground again to slam it into the soil that I heard a car door slam, then the familiar voice of the chief of the bureau calling my name.

I sighed. If there was ever a time that man called before showing up at my doorstep, I couldn’t remember it.

“I’m back here!”

Jason paused, looking from the house to me and back and a moment later, the chief came around the corner.

“You should be resting.” He scolded when he saw the mattock in my hands and I wiped the sweat from my brow with the sleeve of my shirt.

“Too much to do.”

“You keep that up and you’ll see how long you’ll be out of a job.” He continued, then held out the bag he held in his hand. “Your mom wanted me to bring this over. She’s worried you’re not eating.”

“Mom needs to stop worrying about me. Put it in the kitchen and come meet my guests.”

The chief looked at Jason, then back at me. “You make your guests do hard labor in your back yard.”

“Grab a beer while you’re in there.”

Jason looked uncertainly at me when he turned and entered the house. It was clear he wasn’t exactly a fan of strangers.

“That’s my dad…and my boss.” I assured him and he frowned.

“You work for your own dad?”

I nodded.

“When did you redo the kitchen?” I glanced up when the chief reappeared with three beers in hand.

“Couple weeks ago.” I took the beer he offered, but Jason declined his and I stepped over the string and gestured for him to drop the mattock.

“Dad, this is Jason.” I introduced, then gestured to Timmy, who had realized that we had company and was making his way over to us as quickly as his feet could take him. “And that’s his son Timmy.”

They shook hands, though Jason looked as uncomfortable as a person could be when he did and my dad stooped to Timmy’s level when he came over.

“Hey little man.”

Timmy walked over slowly and I was surprised he wasn’t the least bit shy.

“What’s your name?”

“Have some?” he reached for the beer in my dad’s hand, but he pulled it out of his reach.

“You got an ID?” he questioned the toddler and I grinned when Timmy once again reached for the drink.

“Show me your ID and it’s all yours.”

“Come on Timmy, that’s not yours.” Jason interrupted.

“Trust me son, you don’t want to be drinking at your age.” The chief ruffled his hair and stood.

“Can I get him something to drink from your fridge?”

“You don’t have to ask, go ahead.” I told him and he took Timmy’s hand and led him inside.

“Who is he?”

I took a swing of the beer and went to lean against the wall in the shade.

“Just a guy in a tough spot. I’m helping him out for a while.”

“Oh yeah? And why’d he look like he wanted to bolt the minute he saw me?”

I shrugged. “It’s your face. Maybe you should smile every once in a while.”

The chief was not impressed.

“Relax dad. He’s been living on the street. He had nowhere else to go so I took him in and gave him a job.”

His eyes narrowed. “You have some random guy and his kid living with you? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Could be.”

“This isn’t a joke Michael. You, more than anyone should understand the dangers of something like this.”

“I do, and I also understand how dangerous it can be living on the street and with a kid no doubt. I’ve got it handled.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Jesus Mikey, you’ve always been reckless, but this takes the cake.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him so I took another swig of my beer and kept my mouth shut.

“Give me the details.”

I shook my head. “What’s the point of that dad? I already know what you’re going to say and it won’t make a difference.”

He shook his head. “Then do the sensible thing and get rid of them before they make you regret it.”

“Is that it?”

“As a matter—”

He broke off when his phone began to ring and put it to his ear. “Yeah?”

He cursed under his breath and I watched his expression change to one of irritation. “Where is he?”

I took another swig.

“Get Reynolds and Peters in my office. I’m on my way.”

He pocketed the phone and handed me his beer.

“For your own sake, get rid of them.” He cautioned again and turned to go. “And for god sake, rest that shoulder unless you want to end up doing desk work for the rest of your career.”

And like a freak storm, he breezed out the way he came and I was left standing there with two beers and more than an ounce of irritation.

“He doesn’t like me.” I heard Jason issue from the door and I shrugged.

“He doesn’t like anybody.”

“He likes you.”

I stepped away from the tree. “I’m his son, he doesn’t have a choice.”

He shook his head, turning to watch me as I walked past him and into the house. “Maybe you should listen to him.” he suggested seriously.

“Maybe you should get back to work.” I countered and after only brief hesitation and a bit of grumbling he turned to do just that with his son trailing behind him.

I set the beers down on the counter and pulled off my cap to run my head under the kitchen faucet.

The sweat formed a wet path along the column of his neck, trickled down his chest, over his abdomen and further still, until its life was cut short by the cotton pants at his waist.

My focus was smashed to pieces as I watched him, naked from the waist up and sweating in the heat of the sun as he prepared the patio bed. His biceps flexing every time he brought the blade of the mattock to the soil.

I tore my eyes away from him and separated the chunks of grass from the dirt. We’d made some progress in the half day that we’d been out here, but we still had less than half the earth to dig before we could move to the next step.

Timmy was filthy from his head to his little toes after having decided he wanted to help with the digging and had launched himself into the bed of dirt. He’d discarded his shoes and proceeded to tramp across the earth on his bare feet, and with no other way to keep him occupied, we’d let him.

At the moment he lay on his stomach, drawing circles in the dirt.

“Hey Timmy, you wanna go pick up your toys?” I called over to him and he glanced up at me, his dirty curls falling into his face.

I pointed to the grass across the yard where he’s scattered his toys when we’d began early this morning.

“Go pick them up okay?”

“No.” he replied and I don’t know why I couldn’t help but smile at the adorable way in which he said it.

“Are we done for the day?” Jason questioned and I nodded.

“Yeah, help me put everything in the shed. Then we’ll lay the landscape fabric over the fresh soil.”

“How come?”

“It’ll help prevent weeds from growing out through the gravel when we spread it tomorrow.” I explained, before stepping over the string and gathering the equipment.

We made quick work of it and Timmy was quick to follow, not wanting to be left alone as we moved from the prepared soil, to the shed and back.

“Daddy hungee.” He complained as we went and I decided I’d order some pizza instead of cooking again.

When the soil was covered with fabric, I helped Jason pick up the toys and we headed inside and up the stairs to our respective bathrooms for a quick shower.

Dinner time came and went and we enjoyed pizza and breadsticks, but Jason was too wiped out to take Timmy to see the lights like he wanted. The sun had drained his energy as much as it had mine, so he’d gone up to bed with Timmy much earlier than he usually did.

It was half an hour after they went up, that I finally did as well. It had been too long since I’d done any real strenuous exercise and my body was certainly feeling the effects.

I yawned, making my way to my room, but just as I was about to close the door, I heard Jason’s door squeak open down the hall and not a moment later, little Timmy came padding out—running his hand along the wall as he walked toward the only source of light in the house—my room.

“Aren’t you tired?” I bent to pick him up. His eyes were red where he kept rubbing them, clearly tired, but for whatever reason, he was fighting sleep. I carried him down the hall and deposited him on his feet by the door, then pushed him gently into the room, closing the door behind him.

I didn’t take a single step before he opened it again and stepped out. His little face turned up to me in obvious misery.

“No Timmy, go back to bed.” I whispered, then pointed into the room.

He raised his arms for me to lift him and I shook my head. “Don’t you see daddy sleeping in there? Go keep him company.”

I pushed him back into the room. “Go on.”

He turned right back and I sighed, scooped him up and carried him to the top of the stairs where I sat him down beside me.

What came next was a very long conversation about absolutely nothing, but we chatted like old friends—his gibberish to my sense. There was a point where he mentioned his bunny, then his dad and someone called ‘Fwankie’ and I listened and responded at every pause.

Soon enough his lids began to droop and he fought and fought, rubbing at them until his eyes were red and watery, then finally he fell asleep—head in my lap and one hand trapped in his hair.

I picked him up gently, afraid I’d wake him as I walked, but he remained sleeping in my arms, even when I pushed open the door to his room and deposited him onto the bed beside his father.

It was at that moment that I found myself caught. Caught by the sight of the sleeping Jason, whose face was one of relaxed innocence. Without a thought, I reached down and brushed his curls from his face, loving the feel of them against my palm.

I smiled when they bounced right back into place and froze when his eyes drifted open and he gazed up at me—his sleep-filled eyes, from what I could see from the sheet of moonlight coming in through the windows, assessed me, as his gaze raked over my face.

I pulled away from him.

“Michael.” he said softly.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

ENJOY!

THANKS FOR READING GUYS!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

-DoUbLe.A

-unedited.