Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

CHAPTER 21

At that precise moment, a text came through and because I was holding the phone, I got a preview. Again, from 'Randi' reading, 'Sugar, let me know as soon as you know if you will be back in time.'

Stretching my hand I was about to return the phone when the next text came through from 'Mom' asking, “Jacks did you tell her? I can't wait to meet him. Call your mother!

Letting the phone drop back to the stand as if it were a dangerous snake, I rolled over, and, as soon as I settled comfortably, heard the clink of Tristan's crutches. He stopped in the hall bathroom, and afterward pushed open my door.

“Morning Momma!” Mustering a liveliness that, after viewing the texts, I no longer felt, I return chanted the greeting and he asked, “Can I feed Bally...”

When his words dwindled, I raised to see what his wide eyes beheld, and found Jack's socks and shoes among my discarded clothing. Falling to my pillow, I brought a reassuring hand to my robe and in a desperate attention diversion asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

Deciding he would choose a cereal, he hopped off, and I followed a few minutes behind him, taking the time to pull on a pair of jeggings and a long tunic top. My bare feet hit the cool tile of the hall floor, and my strides stopped when I saw Tristan propped on his crutches before the couch, and Jack blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Did you spend the night?” The young boy wondered, and since I was behind him, unable to read his face, I tried to read his tone, but failed.

Jack pushed Bally's snoot away from his face and sat up. “I thought if I was here when you first woke up that we could drive through McDonalds and get some breakfast.”

“Okay.” Tristan took a couple of steps toward the kitchen, then undeterred made a second inquiry, “But did you spend the night?”

Jack's gaze came over Tristan's shoulder, meeting mine, and I only grinned back. Tristan's persistence was a direct genetic link from his father, and it was fun to watch paybacks come back around to Jack.

“Actually, I did,” Jack admitted. “It got really late and I thought you and I could surprise your Momma with some breakfast. Is she still asleep?” With an innocence that would have fooled even me, had I not been staring into his eyes at that very moment, he made the inquiry.

“No, but we could still surprise her,” Tristan was gleeful at the idea.

“Okay buddy, I will just go tell her that you and I are going to the store for...for...”

“For toilet paper!” A slight bounce accompanied the tot's exuberant answer.

“Are we? Are you out ?” Jack inquired of the hall bathroom that he had not been in since the previous afternoon.

“No. But I can hide it.” Tristan's matter of fact statement had me staring in surprise, yet again. Maybe he was more like his father than I would have wanted, I thought; comparing the toilet paper deception to the cryptic phone messages I had just intercepted.

Darting into my room before my son turned around, I stood brushing my hair into a ponytail and turned from the dresser when Jack rattled a knock and entered.

In a loud stage voice he explained, “Tristan and I are going to the store to pick up some toilet paper.”

Perching on the bed, he pulled his socks and shoes on, shooting me an impish smile, and retrieved his phone. With a slight pucker of a frown, he punched in presumably answers to the texts, then clipped the device to his jeans.

“What do you want from MickyD's?” The whisper was in the midst of a quick kiss.

“I don't care. Whatever Tristan picks out for me.”