✧𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑✧
I thought the hardest part was over. I hoped the hardest part was over. It went over smoother than I thought it would, so I thought I was off the hook. I figured that was the last of what I had.
And in some ways, it was the hardest part. I love my parents, but I was more worried about my crumbling relationship with my sister than I was with whatever my parents thought. If I'm being completely honest, I can't say I really care what they're going to say. I just have to let them know who the girl and the little boy I'm bringing to Grandma and Grandpa's house is before we actually get there. Even then though, it's sort of more of a curtesy. Just so they can say they knew at the house and not embarrass themselves.
I sort of wish I chose to let them be a little embarrassed though. Maybe this was a bad idea.
I clear my throat awkwardly as I shift in my seat. Meanwhile, they stare at me from their spots across the table in something mixed with confusion, shock, and horror. I guess there was an easier way of saying it, but when we got sat down at the table by the window and Mom smiled and asked what I wanted to talk about, I sort of panicked.
The most I could offer was a quick "I have a son."
There was a better way at that, and I can admit it. I'll get it right next time.
Mom laughs after a long moment of silence, the horror slipping from her face once she's processed my announcement. "Okay..." She slowly accepts. "Your generation and your animals, I swear." She shakes her head and smiles over at Dad. He starts to smile back at her as he decides I meant an animal too. "What's the dog's name?" She hums.
I awkwardly shake my head. "No, I don't have a dog."
My mom frowns at that. "You said you wanted a puppy."
"When I was five." I dryly point out. I got a sister instead. Not as fun.
Dad sighs at that. "What is it then? Another fish?" His nose scrunches. "I thought you learned your lesson with Jeff."
"Jeffery." I quickly correct.
He rolls his eyes. "Jeffery."
"And no, it's not a fish." I huff. "If you let me talk, you'd see that."
Mom scoffs, offended. "We let you talk." She argues. "You just choose not to. You and your sister—every time you just choose not to talk and then get frustrated when we take our turns. You can't do that, Noah. You're a grown man..."
She goes on for a while. I stop listening pretty quickly.
It's not like I have a short attention span or anything—I really don't think I do. It's more like it's hard to pay attention to something that feels like it's never ending, and also about nothing that's really that important. Like this—right now—is not important to me. I don't really care that they like to talk when I take a natural pause in my sentences. At the end of the conversation, I either get what I want out or I decide it's not important anyway.
"Noah. Are you listening to me?"
"No." I sigh tiredly as I look away from the window and at her. "I'm waiting until the talking stick is handed to me."
Dad reaches for the straw the waitress passed onto him and tosses it across the table at me. I perk up and snatch it up. Mom scoffs at the both of us. "That's so immature—"
"Hang on, hang on, who has the talking straw?" I hold it up proudly. She scowls in response. I smile and look down at my trusty straw. "But seriously." I clear my throat and try to make my expression just as serious as I set the straw down on the table. I look up at them and nod. "I have an actual son." I inform. "Like...a human son."
They stare a little more, saying nothing.
"Oh, sorry." I slide the straw across the table for their turn. I'll explain after they've had a chance to react.
Neither of them grab it for a long time. I'm about to pick it back up, but my dad beats me to it and reaches for it. Even though he has the straw, he hesitates for an extra moment. "Are you joking?" He slowly asks. He hesitates again, this time to pass it back to me. It's almost like he doesn't want to hear my answer, but still needs to anyway.
I pick the straw up. "No, I am not joking." I insist calmly. I've learned that calm gets them to listen. They know I'm serious.
I try passing the straw to my mom next since she hasn't had her turn. She stares down at it then back at me, completely silent. I press my lips together and set it back down in front of me. I guess she's not ready for her turn yet. That's fine—She can skip her turn this entire time, and it wouldn't matter too much to me.
I nod and continue after at least giving her the chance. I can't do anything about the fact that she didn't take it. "It's been, like...seven years. I met her in a bar—Before I got sober." I shake my head softly. "She recognized me for who I was at the time. She knew I wasn't ready for a kid. I guess she was."
Dad flips his palm up over the table. I grab the straw and slide it across. "What changed?" He questions me before sliding it back.
"She moved away when she realized she was pregnant, but her mom is still here. She's getting older and needed help." I answer simply. That's all I really know about it, and I'm pretty sure that's all there is. So, I offer the straw back. He takes it quick.
"Are you making an effort?" He asks, expression shifting. His suddenly cold expression makes me want to shiver like an actual draft passes though the table.
He slides the straw back, but I still am quiet for a moment longer. "Yeah." I eventually manage. "I've met him already. A lot, actually." Slowly, I slide it back. I don't want it right now.
He has other questions though, so I get it back pretty quick. "How long have you known?"
I fiddle with the straw while I have it, passing it through my fingers in my hand. "Since Elaina's birthday." I quietly answer. "Kiara—Aaliyah's new friend. She, uh..."
"For fucks sake, son." Dad groans at that without even asking for the straw. I grimace. "Does your sister know?" He sighs. I nod quickly.
Aaliyah's always been a bit of a favorite with him. I should've known the part where she's Aaliyah's newest friend would've been the worst.
"You've known..." Her icy voice cuts in sharply. My eyes snap to my mom. She takes a deep breath and starts again. "You've known since September?" She hisses. "And you didn't tell us?"
I awkwardly look down at the now useless straw in my hand. "I wanted to figure out how to break it to Aaliyah first." I mutter.
"Aaliyah?" Her voice raises and I uncomfortably glance around the restaurant. "For God's sake, she'd have been fine." She scoffs, waving me off. "We should've been your first stop. He's our grandson! The first—"
"Okay, I'm not going to apologize for the order I did this in, so you might as well save your breath." I wave my hand to dismiss her. Her jaw drops, but I continue. "Also, you don't have the straw so," I shrug and hold the straw up smugly.
"Give me the goddamn straw." Dad opens his palm over the table.
"Well, if you're asking so nicely."
He snatches it from me. I blink slowly while I watch him. "What's his name, dipshit?" He questions.
I hold my hand out expectantly. He rolls his eyes but passes the straw across the table. "His name is Cameron." I inform with a little smile. "Cameron Noah Stone." I add smugly.
Dad shuts his eyes and drops his elbows onto the table to rest his forehead in his palms. "My God." Mom whispers as she looks away.
Maybe I should've done that one at a later time.
"Did you take a DNA test?" Mom sighs deeply as she asks, as if it's such a casual question. Like it's obvious I've taken one.
"Did you?"
She stares. "What?"
"Well, how did you know me and Aaliyah were yours?"
"...Noah, I am not explaining that to you."
I cross my arms stubbornly. "Interesting."
"It's not!"
"Okay, okay." Dad shakes his head and as he looks up from the table. "Did you take a test or not, Noah?" He asks.
"No."
"Why?" Mom scoffs and shakes her head at me. "You cannot just take someone's word for it, Noah." She dryly informs. "How much has she asked for?" She sighs.
I straighten at that. "Nothing." My face scrunches in disgust at the question. "She hasn't asked for anything. She wasn't even going to tell me until she met Aaliyah and accidentally me."
"Oh." Dad grimaces at that.
I backtrack quick. "Not—I mean, not that she was never going to tell me." I awkwardly mutter. She probably was never going to tell me. "But that's not the point." I shake my head quickly. "Look, he looks like me, and his middle name is literally mine."
"A name isn't the same as DNA." Mom mutters awkwardly.
"Okay, well, I love him already. So..." I shrug her off. "I'm attached now, and the rules are I get to keep what I'm attached to."
"He's not a toad you found in the backyard, Noah." Mom frowns as she shakes her head. "This is a little boy with his own thoughts and feelings who needs a father."
"I know." I nod. "I'm not going to ask her for a DNA test. If that's what you're wanting to accept him, then," I shrug softly. "fine. I can't change your mind on that. You don't get to change your mind about it later though."
Dad takes a deep breath as he starts to nod to himself and looks away. Meanwhile, Mom shakes her head. "I wanted you to settle down with someone, Noah. Not this." She scoffs quietly. "I'm really disappointed." She informs. "Very disappointed." She whispers as she reaches for her purse. I straighten while she slides out of her seat and stands from the table.
"Mom," I stupidly call for her like she's going to stop for me. She isn't going to though, too busy throwing her purse over her shoulder and storming away from the table. "Mom," I try again even though she's already too far gone. I huff weakly and look at my dad like he's going to help me.
He's not though. And here lies the reason it had mostly just been me and Aaliyah growing up. They didn't know how to be parents, and when shit got tough, they backed up to 'let it take its course'. Basically, 'let me step aside and let this ten-year-old deal with her problems all by herself because I don't feel like I can do it'.
I take a breath and lean back in my seat as I stare down at the table. Dad shifts in his seat and drops his hand below the table. "She needs me to drive her home." Is all he says.
I chuckle to myself as I nod. "Uh-huh."
He brings his hand above the table again with his wallet now in his hand. Absently, he opens it and lowers his gaze. "She'll come around." He decides on a mutter.
"Sure." I laugh a little more. "Hey, when she does, let her know I don't want her around my kid if she's going to make him feel bad about himself." I hum. "He doesn't need that in his life, and I'm not going to let that happen to him."
He frowns. "Don't be like that, Noah." He tosses a couple bucks onto the table before he closes his wallet. "Get yourself something to eat." He nods to the money. I laugh some more, he ignores it. "She'll probably call you tonight."
"Probably." I grin up at him while he stands from the table. "Every little boy's dream to hear about his mother. She'll probably call him if she's not still disappointed in him." I can't help my growing laughter while he stares down at me with a frown. "Whatever." I dismiss him, smile softening. "We were going to go to the Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's too, you know."
Dad only sighs at that. Surprisingly, he doesn't immediately walk away. I watch him, waiting hopefully for him to say something. Anything. Something as simple as an apology or an empty promise that it'll all be okay.
I'm stupid for hoping for something that's never going to happen.
He dips his chin in a half nod before he turns around to follow the same route my mom took. Only for him, his kid isn't calling helplessly out for him while he continues walking and ignoring.
I don't think it'd matter to him either way.
They're so damn lucky Aaliyah sees them in a slightly better light than I do. I don't know how bad they seem to her, but clearly good enough for her to let them see her daughter.
The woman from before approaches the table with a smile. She looks over at the now two empty seats across from me then at me, her smile slowly softening down. "Can I get you guys started?" She quietly asks, probably hoping they walked away for a moment.
It's almost a little funny that they didn't even stay long enough for us to get our orders in. Maybe I should've waited a second.
I give a brief smile. "Can I, uh, just get the happy face pancakes thing and, um...chocolate chip pancakes in a couple of boxes to go?" I request on a deep sigh. Kiara mentioned her mom used to make her chocolate chip pancakes. It should be fine.
"Um...Sure, I'll go put that together for you now."
"Thanks."
__________
I didn't have too many friends growing up. Not close ones anyway. And I could forget about good ones too. I mostly just had kids my age who I could hang out with but I wouldn't say we were anything more than acquaintances. They didn't know me that well and I didn't know them that well.
I was fine with that though. They were still there physically when I decided I wanted to be alone without being completely alone. They weren't any kind of support system much less the one I wanted and needed. But they were pretty much all I had outside of my family, so I stuck with them.
They were the place I went when I couldn't handle the stupid shit at home. And when those guys were no longer around after high school, I found another place I could go when I thought about it all or even when I realized I could do whatever the hell I wanted now. Obviously, that turned into a bad habit quick, but there was always a place for me to go.
Now that I've lost that place, I've kind of struggled to find a new one. I love my family and I love being around my sister's family that she built for herself, but sometimes I want something else. Something away from them—as terrible as it sounds. All I've always wanted was something, a place to go, that was mine. I didn't have to share it with my sister or my family because it was all mine.
I think I found the healthiest space I've ever had where I can just be like I've wanted. I have my responsibilities, but all healthy places do. I'd be concerned if my new place didn't have responsibilities, to be honest.
"You're here!"
The extra healthy part of this place? I smile while I'm here every time without fail.
"I'm here!" I repeat, mimicking his bright and excited tone as I extend my arms out.
He gasps loudly as he stumbles into view. Kiara giggles and steps aside to open the door wider. "Presents!" He bellows excitedly.
"Sort of!" I return with a quick nod as I step inside. "It's food." I hum my correction as I hold up the plastic bag in my hand.
"Ooh," Kiara peers more curiously at my bag. She straightens quick though and shuts the door behind me. I chuckle as I watch her, aware that she probably comes to the conclusion that I didn't get her anything—just me and Cameron.
"Food!" Cameron yells out, still just as excited as he runs over. He falls to the ground and latches himself to my leg pretty much immediately. "Go!" He orders, pointing off into the distance heroically.
"Cam, inside voice." Kiara reminds on a whisper. Cameron grins in response, hugging my leg tighter while I start making my way through their apartment.
"Enjoy this while it lasts, Nut." I warn on a laugh as I half struggle to get us to the kitchen with him clinging to my leg. It's easier when he's in my arms, but he thinks this is more fun.
Kiara giggles while she follows us. She too likes this way more, but that's just because she thinks we look stupid and she finds it funny. I let her laugh.
Once I make it to the table, I set the bag down and lean down to scoop Cameron up. He clings to me happily while I kick out one of the chairs to set him down in it. "Okay, let's see what I got you." I hum as I reach in to pick up one of the two still warm boxes. I reach in to grab the other too. Before I open them, I look over my shoulder at Kiara who lingers curiously in the doorway. "C'mon," I chuckle as I nod her over. She perks up and quickly makes her way over to sit down at the table too. "'Kay, this one's..." I pause as I peek into one of the boxes. "Cam's." I slide it off to the side for now. Cameron starts reaching for it but can't quite reach. "And this one's Mom's." I close the second one before I slide it to Kiara.
Kiara smiles down at her closed box without even checking what's inside. Instead, she looks at the bag. She quickly realizes it's empty now and frowns a little, looking up at me in confusion. I just shake my head with a little smile in response as I reach for Cameron's box. Cameron groans at me when I slide it even further from him.
"Okay, you gotta close your eyes." I look over at him. They wouldn't put the face thing together in a to-go box. For some fucking reason.
Cameron groans some more, but he ultimately do as he's told and closes his eyes. He lifts his hands to his eyes for good measure, seemingly aware that he will try to peek. I laugh to myself and step away from the table to leave the room and to the kitchen to wash my hands really quick. "Noah!" Cameron calls impatiently form the table as soon as he hears the water.
"What? Do you want nasty germs in your food?"
He sighs deeply.
"Didn't think so."
Kiara's box is still closed in front of her and Cameron's little hands are still over his eyes when I come back. Kiara watches me with a little smile and her chin in the palm of her hand while I come back to where I was and open the box. She watches me quietly while I open up each of the little containers with all of the pieces. I carefully recreate the smiley face as best as I can with them.
When I'm finished, I smile triumphantly at her. She smiles back at me, eyes and smile both gentle. I swallow, unable to look away from her when she looks at me like that.
Why does she have to look at me like that? I just made a lopsided smiley face on a pancake, and she's watching me like I just hung the fucking moon.
"Can I see now?" Cameron asks impatiently. I quickly look over at him, silently grateful for that little kid and his inability to wait.
I slide the box slowly and quietly in front of him. "Go ahead." I agree. His hands are dropping from his face before I'm even finished.
My terrible day takes a turn for the best the moment his face starts to change at the sight of the terribly made pancake face. His eyes light up and he gasps as he sits up in his seat. "Pancake-man!" He beams down at it.
Kiara's smile is still gentle as she reminds him. "What do we say?"
"Thank you!" He calls, forgetting about the indoor voice rule too.
"Shh," I can't help my laughter as I reach out for the chair in front of me to pull it out from under the table. "Inside voice, remember?" I remind.
"Thank you," He whispers. Kiara and I both laugh in response. I reach for the bag to take out the two packs of plastic silverware I got, opening one of them to take out the fork and hand it to Cameron.
I raise a brow at Kiara. "Hungry?" I nod to hers as I hand her the unopened pack. She smiles wider at that and straightens, looking down at her box.
She pauses when she finally gets a look inside of it, smile softening and almost fading as she looks inside. My eyes are stuck on her, and I chalk it up to being just because I want to see if I guessed right. Her gaze flies over to mine after a moment, and she gives a closed mouth, genuine, and sweet smile. "Thank you," She thanks me quietly and almost sheepishly. "I love these." She admits as she opens the plastic silverware. I don't know how well she's going to be able to cut her pancakes with them, so I stand from the table to go back towards the kitchen.
Cameron is looking around expectantly by the time I get back. "Mommy," He calls as he turns his box around to her. I chuckle when I see he's completely killed the sweets and decorations on his pancakes.
"I got it," I assure as I pass a butterknife and a fork to Kiara. She thanks me again quietly as she takes them, setting the plastic ones aside for now. Cameron happily pushes his box towards me, waiting for me to cut his pancakes up for him. I grab the box but don't sit down with it. Instead, I push it closer over to him.
Before I tell him what I want to do, I look at Kiara. She looks back at me in slight confusion for a moment, but she quickly realizes what I want to do. She hesitates for a moment while she thinks about it. Ultimately though, she gives me a little smile and nods. "Go ahead." She coaxes.
I smile and look back at a clueless Cameron. "Okay, here we go, Nut." I hum as I hold the butterknife in one hand and the fork in the other. "Today, we're going to learn to cut your own pancakes." I announce proudly. "Because you're seven already, and you should probably know."
Cameron frowns in response. "But Mommy cuts them good."
"Yeah, nice try." I dismiss. He sighs, defeated instantly. I set the fork down and reach for the pack of plastic silverware to grab the butterknife from it. "Here," I hand it over. He grabs it with his left hand. I stare for a second. "Wait, are you left-handed?"
Kiara laughs to herself. "Ambidextrous." She corrects.
I grin immediately. "Awesome. Me too—So! Grab the knife with whichever hand feels more comfortable and the fork with the other." I encourage. Cameron pauses, looking down at his fork in his right hand and his knife in his left. He ultimately decides this is comfortable and he looks up at me. "So, we use the fork to hold it still, and we basically, like, saw through it with the knife." I inform as I stick the fork in a piece of the pancake and start to cut a small portion off. "See?" I smile as I pick my fork up with that piece on it and bring it to my mouth.
Cameron's jaw drops as he watches me eat that piece. "Daddy." He protests on a groan. Kiara giggles.
"Sorry." I hum on a laugh. I nod to it. "You try." I encourage. He huffs as he looks down at his pancakes. "Fork," I hint slowly. He grabs his fork and stabs it aggressively into his pancake. "Okay—Relax. It's not going anywhere." I awkwardly warn. Kiara sets her silverware down, smiling as she watches us. "Now—Easily—use the knife."
Very slowly and unsure, Cameron begins cutting a piece of his pancake. Miraculously, it works for him, and he successfully cuts a piece. He gasps at the piece on his fork and lifts it up to show his mom. Kiara laughs. "Good job, Cam." She nods. He laughs kind of like a super villain and sticks that piece into his mouth.
"Okay, buddy. You think you got it or you need me to show you again?" I ask, laughing to myself while I watch him.
"Got it!" He gives me a thumbs up. I return it before I reach for the bag to pull out a little thing of syrup to give to him. I grab the second thing of syrup and slide it to Kiara too.
Kiara shakes her head softly with a smile while Cameron still evilly giggles to himself as he continues cutting his pancakes. I walk behind his chair to get back to the one I'd been sitting in. I don't have any food, but I still sit at the table with them while they eat. Kiara gazes curiously at me while we sit here. She clears her throat quietly while she's busy cutting some of her pancakes. "How'd it go?" She cautiously asks.
I glance Cameron's way before back at her. I give her a weak smile as I shake my head softly. She frowns in response. "I think, um...I'm going to skip the big dinner this year." I admit, lowering my voice like Cameron won't be able to hear me. He's happily in his own world anyway though. Besides, this conversation wouldn't be very interesting to him.
Kiara nods softly. "If you want to, sure." She agrees. "But we'd be okay." Her eyes dart to Cameron across the table.
I stare skeptically, unconvinced. "You would?"
She smiles gently. "If you don't want to skip it—Which I totally get if you wouldn't." She shrugs softly. "We could go."
Cameron perks up. "Go? Go where? I wanna go!"
I chuckle as I look over at him. "Don't talk with food in your mouth." I remind. "We're not going anywhere right now." I add, dismissing him. He's disappointed for all about five seconds before he forgets it and goes back to devouring his pancakes.
Kiara is still watching me when I look back at her. "I asked Aaliyah, and she said she'd go if we did." She informs. "Up to you, Noah." She offers. I take a breath and look over at Cameron instead of answering her now.
If I know something for sure, it's the one set of reactions I know for a fact I'll get. My grandparents. They're a forgetful set, but they're sweet, caring, and their minds are open. For the most part. They wouldn't be upset with Kiara, and they'd be excited to see Cameron. They'd be slightly offended I didn't ask before bringing them over, but they'd get over it quick. Even still, I should at the very least call ahead.
Worst case scenario, we leave immediately and have our own Thanksgiving at my place with a festive movie on. Which definitely wouldn't be the worst thing we could be doing for our first holiday together.