I sigh to myself. But she’s here now, and that’s all that matters. I’m so thankful she found the strength to come back to us. She has always been so strong.
“Strong, just like you,” I say to Jacob, taking a seat in the recliner and repositioning him in the crook of my elbow to give him his bottle. “Let me just tell you a little of what to expect around here, father to son.” I watch his eyes try to focus on me as we begin our lesson.
“Your mother. She’s stubborn and hot tempered, so try not to make her mad. But, she also forgives very easily. Keep that in mind when you do end up pissing her off. Oh, and it helps if you do something really cute too. That’s what Rylie does, and it works, trust me. I’ve tried it.”
Watching him drink his bottle, I decide to tell him the one thing that always makes me laugh about Alex. I smile to myself just thinking about it. “Also, your mom tends to smell me a lot. I’m not sure why, but she does. She smells you too, though, so don’t feel left out.”
Watching his hands opening and closing while he eats, I still can’t believe how tiny he is.
“Rylie. She is extremely high energy and very clever. She’ll most likely try to teach you to do bad things. If she giggles, it usually means that she’s doing something that’s not good. That’s your key, watch for it. You’ll probably be closest to her, so I’ll just tell you now…I’m watching you. I’m always watching both of you. So when you think you’re getting away with doing something bad, with or without Rylie, just know that I know. Got it?”
Alex stirs a little, so I lower my voice to a whisper.
“Kyndall and Nycole. Those are the older ones. Kyndall’s very sweet and will share her things with you so, when you want to play, go to her. She already loves you so much, so you have an in there – feel free to use it. Nycole, who also can’t get enough of you, doesn’t really play with toys. But, she’s very smart and will probably be the person you go to for advice, when you don’t want to ask your mom or me. Not that there should ever be a time when you don’t come to us, but just in case.”
Removing the bottle, I use the burp cloth to wipe his mouth. I’m not sure why, though, he seems to prefer my shirts.
Sitting him straight up on my lap, I tap his back lightly until lets out a little gurgle. I keep him there to make sure there’s nothing else coming up, and then lay him back down for the remainder of his meal and resume my lesson.
“Sunday Breakfast Dates. My favorite part of the week. We have them every Sunday, and you have to dress up, but not fancy if you don’t want to. You just have to dress in something. For example, last week Rylie came to breakfast dressed as the big red flying Angry Bird, her Halloween costume this year. Which is perfect for her…because she does tend to do a lot of damage. These things, games and stuff, you’ll learn as you get older. But don’t ask me to explain Minecraft, because I have no idea what’s going on in that game.”
He pushes away the bottle, but then reaches for it. I maneuver it around to see if he’s hungry. Once it’s back in his mouth, I continue.
“Falling asleep on the couch. Don’t do it. The girls and your mother will paint your toenails. And not just any color, they will paint them bright pink and take pictures to show your Uncle Trace. You can let them dress you up, but set your limits early. Otherwise, you’ll be covered with make-up and a lot of glitter and sequins. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, if you don’t want them to take advantage of you, set your limits early.”
Now for the good stuff.
“Now, these are the most important of tonight’s lesson, so pay attention.”
His eyes widen and I laugh. Probably gas, but really good timing.
“Number one, your mother doesn’t ask for help much, but really appreciates when you do. So, don’t ask her, just do it. It gets you a lot of brownie points.
“Number two, always tell us how you feel. One thing I learned with your mom is to communicate with her, and it’s something that you should know too. Tell us how you feel. When you’re happy, sad, pissed, whatever, but don’t keep it bottled up. It never ends well, because eventually you’ll hit your boiling point.
“Number three, when you meet the girl of your dreams, never, ever let her go. I waited a very long time for mine, and believe me when I tell you, it was worth it.
“But the biggest thing is this: Everything happens for a reason. I really believe that. I didn’t marry your mom until later in life, but I have loved her for a very long time. Because I waited, I not only have her, but also Nycole, Kyndall, Rylie, and now you. So, when things don’t make sense to you, try not to waste time being upset about it. Stuff works out the way it’s supposed to. Some things just take longer than others.”
Lost in my lesson, I glance down and notice that Jacob is no longer eating. His eyes are closed, and he’s still sucking on the bottle, but instead of the milk going down his throat, it’s dribbling out of the side of his mouth. After wiping his face, I set the bottle on the floor, raise him back up and lay his head gently on my shoulder, his body against my chest, and rub his back. Rocking back and forth in the recliner, I watch my beautiful wife as she sleeps.
I inhale deeply and let out a long, content sigh.
“Yep, son. Everything works out eventually. You just have to have patience.”
Some call me a party girl. People see me as happy, full of life, with absolutely no cares in the world. They see what I want them to see. But no one knows me… really knows me. No one sees the lonely little girl who resides in my soul. The little girl whose own mother couldn’t care less about her growing up. The little girl who was left alone, raising herself while her mother drowned herself daily in alcohol and depression. The little girl who lost her daddy when she was six, and who would give anything to have him back. No one sees me.
So here I am at the tender age of twenty-three, living my life as a perpetual party girl. Currently I’m stuck working in my brother’s bar—the bar he and Blake opened together. Trace came back to keep an eye on me after Mother started getting sick, and unfortunately stayed after she passed last year. Since I’m currently not talking to him, I’m pretty sure he put his little minion, Noah Reese, aka bar manager, on “Tatum duty”.
Noah Reese.
He’s hot, there’s no doubt about it. I can’t keep my eyes off of him, actually. With his brown spiky hair, light brown eyes offset by his impossibly dark lashes… he’s gorgeous. And when he comes into the bar with some perfect Barbie draping herself all over him, I get a tad upset. Those girls aren’t right for him. Not that I am. I’m not right for anyone. Sure, I have my boyfriend, but I’m not in love with him and actually, he’s kind of a jerk.
So if Noah wants to keep an eye on me, that’s fine. I definitely don’t mind. But I hope he doesn’t have any plans to save me from my life of self-destruction because in order to save me, he will have to see me…
And I’m never going to let that happen.
Perfect.
That’s me.
That’s the only acceptable way to be, according to my father. I loathe the man. There was never any love from him growing up. Just lecture after lecture about how anything less than perfect was intolerable. Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect athlete. Perfect SAT scores. Perfect college. Now, I have to get into the perfect med school. I would like to tell him what a perfect asshole father he is, but I won’t. It takes too much energy to argue with him. I learned this lesson at a very young age. He wasn’t always this way, but after Mom died he changed and I was forced to change with him.