I stared at the picture in my hands. I knew I had fingerpaints all over me, but I didn't really care. I was trying hard not to cry. Jake was adorable. I could hear him talking a mile a minute to Shay in the bathroom.
If donuts could seriously turn back time, I would buy a million of them for a do-over. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. This was almost too much to take.
I heard a crinkle of plastic, an exclamation, and a squeaky 'sorry!' There was never a loud voice. If he was in trouble, he was being told why without getting screamed at. Shay was a good mom.
A few minutes later the two of them came back. Jake bounced over to me and looked up. His face seemed to ooze curiousity.
"I pee on Cheerios!" he announced proudly. "Do you?"
Damn. I felt like I was being faced with my first test. Shay looked at me expectantly.
"I'm not very good at it," I said "Are you?"
Jake's face broke into an amused smile. He stomped his feet back and forth as if he was revving himself up. "YEAH!"
Before I could say anything else, Shay started to sneeze again. She whirled around, grabbed a box of Kleenex off the table, and buried her face.
"BLESS YOU! BLESS YOU! BLESS YOU! BLESS YOU! BLESS YOU!"
Jake was like a broken record. Once Shay finally stopped sneezing, she sank into the couch. It wasn't even lunchtime and she looked exhausted.
"Why don't you get some rest or something?" I said. She looked at me increduously.
"It's not that easy," she said. Her eyes went right to Jake. He was holding the TV remote, pressing buttons like a madman. The TV flicked to life and he fist pummeled the air.
"I can watch him," I blurted out.
We stared at each other. I was prepared for Shay to tell me to go to hell. Instead, she began sneezing again.
I had been so hopeful that my leaky faucet of a nose was drying up. Instead, I was expelling disgusting amounts of snot and running short on Kleenex. I needed to get back to work. I needed sleep.
The question was whether or not I trusted Nick to watch after Jake. A totally irrational part of me thought he might just scoop Jake up and take off. The more rational part of me was just worried he wouldn't be able to handle my rambunctuous three year old.
"I dunno..."
"Hey, he's already got the TV on. We'll just watch TV. I can make a peanut butter sandwich without burning the place down. You look real sick," Nick finished.
I would have laughed except for the fact that the gross stuff was making its way back to my chest. I didn't want to spend another day coughing so hard my ribs threatened to break.
"Fine," I said. "But--"
"But what? Go to bed."
Nick sat down on the floor by Jake. I was reminded of that scene in Forest Gump where Forest sat next to Little Forest. I slapped the side of my face; I was drunk on cough syrup. That could be the only reason why my mind was acting so wonky.
"Can I watch this with you?" Nick asked. Jake wiggled over to Nick so that his tush was on Nick's knee. He pointed to the TV and started explaining the finer points of Bob the Builder.
I gave up. I went to bed.
I told myself I wasn't going to sleep; I was only going to lie down. That way I could hear if the front door opened. I made sure my baseball bat was near the bed. I'd beat Nick Carter down if he tried anything dumb.
But, the moment I crawled into bed, the softness got to me. I tore off my turtleneck and paint splattered leggings. I got into an oversize nightshirt that fifty year old women wore and ended up falling fast asleep.
"Can we fix it? Yes we can!"
Jake was all over the place. He had started off sitting on my knee. Then he had sprawled out on the floor in front of me. Now he was hopping around like he was a kangaroo.
"That's a dump truck," he announced.
I was getting tensed up sitting 'criss-cross applesauce' like Jake had instructed. I sprawled my legs out in front of me. Jake looked over in surprise. A second later he was doing the same. He looked down and started poking at his crotch.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Nuttin. I just gotta poke."
I wasn't sure about the rules with three year olds and touching themselves.
"Do you have to pee?"
"Nope!"
Jake poked a few more times and then obviously got bored. He stared back up at the TV. His feet swung back and forth.
"Where's your kids?" he asked.
I have to admit, I was getting kinda engrossed on the goings-on in Sunflower Valley. I needed Bob to come over to my house and fix all the shit the realtor never told me about. Jake's question seemed to come outta nowhere.
"My kids?" I said. "I don't--" I stopped. I couldn't tell him I didn't have kids, because obviously I did. Think Nick, think...
"I don't have anyone for you to play with," I said. Ah-ha!
Jake sat up. 'Bob' went to commercial. "Are you my daddy?"
Shit. I glanced all around as if looking for somebody to help me. Jake's hands pressed against my shoulders and he leaned into my face. I always wondered what my eyes looked like; now I knew.
"I've got to pee," I said. I stood up. Jake started to giggle. He ran off. I followed him into the kitchen. He yanked a huge pantry door open and gave me a box of Cheerios.
"For good luck," he said seriously.
Feeling like a dipwad, I went to the bathroom with the box. Jake started talking to me through the closed door. I sank down on the toilet lid.
I needed more than luck. I needed how-to books. I needed advice.
More importantly, I needed Shay's permission to tell the little guy the truth. I hadn't been lying when I told her I didn't run from responsibility.
I was half the reason why Jake even existed. I knew Shay hated the ground I walked on, but I needed to step up.
I was Nick Carter. I was only human.
