Chapter 23
~Jason~
The clock above the TV in our bedroom said it was already past ten in the morning and Michael and Timmy were still in bed. I watched them from the doorway feeling all kinds of feelings I didn't want to feel.
Timmy had gotten a bad dream the night before, so Michael had stayed up with him for a couple hours, then brought him to bed with us when he'd finally calmed down. Now Michael was fast asleep and Timmy was lying buck naked on his stomach, and watching me with those big doe eyes while he sucked his fingers.
Spoiled. That's what he was. Michael had gone and spoiled him. I'd thought about crawling right back in with them about a thousand times already, but I figured I better get busy. It was finally the weekend, which meant no work, so I wanted to get as much done as I could while I had the chance.
Breakfast was already done and waiting and the coffee was sitting on the counter getting cold. I'd also thought of maybe bringing them breakfast in bed, but changed my mind. Who knew how it would look to Michael; me acting like some housewife.
I shook my head. Ridiculous.
Timmy took his fingers out of his mouth for a second and waved. I waved back.
"You wanna come help me downstairs?" I whispered, and he shook his head.
'Course he didn't; he had his nice, comfortable spot lying down on Michael; as if the guy was a big teddy bear.
He was a pretty decent guy, that Michael; taking care of my kid like he was his own. Treating us like family. It was damn decent of him. Just like that time so long ago when he went and helped me out for no damn reason; just a guy on the street and he took the time to help me of all people.
It was no wonder I went and got my mind fucked up over him. Aint nobody could see somebody like that and not feel something. Michael was just too handsome for his own good. I saw how people looked at him when we went anywhere; drooling over him like he was something to eat.
I sighed.
Michael just couldn't help that he went and got born with a body like his and a face like that; some people were just lucky. Didn't make sense that he was interested in me—not when so many good looking people were out there who had so much more to offer, but here I was. He was in love with my son and he said he was in love with me too.
I felt the usual pain in my chest just thinking about it. I loved him for so long now, I should be happy that there was even a possibility that maybe he really felt the same way, but it only made me miserable. I could imagine waking up to him for the rest of my life though. I could see it and I wanted it. I wanted it bad, but good things like that only happened for other kinds of people; not people like me and Timmy.
One day he was gonna get tired of having to see us all the time, and we were gonna have to move on.
I blinked away the tears and cursed under my breath; standing here acting like some girl. Pathetic.
I turned away. I got things to do today, so I might as well get to them.
Michael said we were going to paint Timmy's room today, so I fingered I might as well get it ready. I'd have to get something to spread over the carpet and I'd have to get something to cover all the furniture. Yesterday he'd said something about some tarpaulin being in the storage room outside, and he'd put the paint cans in the laundry room downstairs.
The paint rollers and brushes were probably in the storage room too.
When I got all the materials we would need, I brought them back to Timmy's room and started moving all the furniture to the middle of the space. When that was done, I covered everything with the tarp, then lay some old newspapers along the walls.
I liked the color of the paint; light blue. Timmy would love it, but more than that, he was going to love the posters Michael got for him. They had all his favorite cartoon characters on them; except the vegetables because that was just another stressful story. I poured the paint into the roller dish and made sure the roller was coated properly, before I started on the wall. It was a really nice blue. Too bad the job would take all day because the room was so big.
I was halfway done with the first coat on one wall when Timmy showed up. "Daddy, tea?"
"Gimmie a sec. No don't come in here."
I rolled the paint onto the wall real quick and climbed down the ladder.
"What kinda tea do you want? Chocolate?"
He shook his head.
"Mint, Camomile, peppermint, green tea?" He shook his head for all of them. It was Michael's damn fault for having so many options.
"Then what?"
"Miwk."
"Warm milk?"
"Yes daddy." I was following him down the hall when he pointed to me and Michael's room and said; "Micha seeping."
"You wanna go wake him up?" he nodded. "Go then. Tell him it's time to get up and then come downstairs for the milk."
"Micha daddy say up!" he was shouting as he ran down the hall and into the other room.
I rolled my eyes. 'Course he'd have to drag my name into it.
I should have just gone downstairs after that, but for some stupid reason I couldn't help but go stand in the doorway and watch. Timmy was patting Michael's side. I shook my head. A normal person wouldn't feel a thing from the way he was patting, but of course Michael, being trained and all that stuff that came went with being a FBI agent, woke up anyway.
He didn't open his eyes, but he groaned. "Go back to sleep kid." I shivered all the way down to my toes. I always loved his morning voice. It was always deeper and sexier than usual; if that was even possible.
"No, daddy say up!"
"Yeah okay." He said, but instead of getting up, he turned around and pulled the pillow over his head.
Timmy looked at me, and I backed away from the door and shook my head.
"Micha, daddy say up."
I swear it happened in like less than a second, but one second I was watching Timmy and the next, Michael reached over and pulled him under the covers with him. I couldn't see Timmy anymore, but I could hear him giggling.
I smiled. I loved it when Timmy laughed. Ever since we started living here, it had turned into a regular thing. Michael was good for him.
"Micha no tickows!"
What if Michael really was serious about this? What if he never got tired of us? Lots of people in the world had really good lives. Like Michael's parents; they were old and they'd been together practically forever. If Michael was anything like his old man, then maybe, just maybe, he wanted a forever type of relationship.
I knew at least one person like me who used to live on the streets and everything, and now he was happy. So what if maybe it could happen for me and Timmy?
I shook my head. I wish I could know for sure if all this shit was possible. Then I could relax and laugh like Timmy, and be comfortable in this big old house, and just be happy with Michael.
I clapped a hand over my forehead. All this stressing was only giving me a headache.
Timmy giggled again from somewhere under the covers and I left to go make his warm milk.
...............................................
I was done with one wall by the time Michael and Timmy finished breakfast and decided to come annoy me.
"No don't let him come in here. He's only gonna make a mess."
"Says who? Let the kid watch."
"Then make him watch from in the hallway."
"You worry too much." He said, as usual never taking anything seriously. "This looks pretty good for just the first coat." He was saying, but I was watching Timmy, because whether Michael wanted to admit it or not, he was the clumsiest little person in the world.
"Here." Michael gave Timmy his phone and Bunny. "You sit right here in the middle and watch okay?"
"Daddy cowerwing?"
Michael nodded, then gave him his water bottle too. I got started on the other wall. It was definitely taking longer than I thought to get everything done, which meant I should have started it earlier.
We at least got to finish the second wall before Timmy started doing exactly what I told Michael he would do. First he stepped into the paint and decided it was okay to run away with it still on the bottom of his right foot when we tried to catch him. So now if anybody decided to visit, they'd get to see the tiny blue footprints on the carpet in the hall, 'cause I wasn't cleaning them; not after I warned Michael in the first place.
Even after all that, Michael figured he could just talk to Timmy and tell him how important it was for him to stay in one spot; as if the kid would listen, but I figured since he thought he knew best, I'd just let him do whatever he wanted. I definitely wasn't surprised half an hour later, when Timmy dropped Bunny and Michael's phone into the paint. When Michael pulled them out of the container and looked over at me, I ignored him, because like I said; I had warned him, but what did I know about my own son. It's not like I been taking care of him since he was born or nothin'.
At least Bunny looked more interesting now.
"Put him out in the hallway Michael."
"He's fine where he is. He's just bored. I'll go get some of his toys and let him watch a cartoon on the tablet."
I shook my head.
After we finished the last wall, Timmy tripped and fell into the container and even managed to turn over the other can of paint all over himself. It was in his hair, on his face; it was everywhere. "Just give me him." I took his from Michael and carried him into the bathroom. I guess it was a good thing he'd been naked the whole time.
I scrubbed him clean in the tub; making sure the clean out all the creases properly. When I turned on the shower instead of the bottom faucet like I usually did; he started giggling. He liked the spray.
This time, when I was done, I put him out in the hallway and set him down on some cushions on the carpet.
"Don't come back in there or you're gonna be in a lot of trouble okay?"
"Yes daddy."
Putting on the second coat of paint was easier than the first and in no time, the first wall was done. Everything was going good too; at least until I bent down to paint the bottom of the wall and I felt Timmy climbing onto my back.
"Timmy you can't be doing that, I'm—" but he fell before I could reach behind me and grab him, and he ended up covered in paint... again.
After that Michael's dad came to take him away for a couple of hours and finally, the place was quiet again. When I looked over at Michael I frowned. He was looking at me and I could already tell he was having dirty thoughts.
"Behave." I even moved with my paint tray over to the other side of the room so he wouldn't bother with his usual silliness, but he only laughed.
"I'm just admiring the view Jace."
"Well stop."
He laughed some more. "You've been grumpy all day, what's up?"
"Nothing. I just got a lot to think about."
"Yeah? Like what?"
I turned to the wall and stated rolling on the second coat of paint. "Just some private stuff."
"You sure you don't want to share? I'm a great listener."
"I'm sure." But was I really?
I thought about how good it would feel to talk to somebody; anybody, about the things I was feeling and the thoughts I was having. Just for once it would be nice to tell them to somebody other than Timmy, because the truth was; Timmy just didn't understand, and he couldn't give me advice or tell me if all my feelings made sense.
"Alright, but remember I'm here whenever you need to."
"Yeah." Except everything I wanted to talk about was about Michael. It just wouldn't make sense to talk to him about himself. What would he think?
I turned and looked at him again. He was busy with his roller, so he wasn't watching me anymore. I bit my lip. Michael was smart; he always said the right things and he understood confusing stuff like this. So maybe...
I sighed and turned back to my wall. I didn't used to worry as much when me and Timmy used to live in our broken down old house. Back then nothing was confusing. The only thing I had to think about was getting food for me and Timmy, and saving. I didn't have to be dealing with feelings all the time or wondering if anything was gonna last, because out there things were simpler. I put a hand over my chest and took a deep breath. I was sick of the pain I kept feeling there every time I started thinking too much. I just wanted everything to be easier.
I turned around and dropped my roller "Do you think..."I took another deep breath. "Do you think maybe we could just finish this tomorrow?"
Michael turned to look at me. "Yeah of course. There's no rush."
I nodded. "I was thinking maybe I could talk to you. Like a real serious conversation."
He frowned, but he was nodding. "Of course Jace, whatever you need. Let me just cover these up and we can go downstairs and talk."
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we packed up the paint and stuff. My hands were shaking so bad when I went to the bathroom to wash them too.
When we finally got downstairs to the living room, he chose the seat across from me after I sat down, and I pulled one of the cushions into my lap.
I didn't know where to start and he was looking at me and waiting and my chest kept on hurting and everything felt shitty. I was thinking about just getting up and telling him to forget about the whole thing when he smiled and said; "It's okay, take your time"
After that I just felt this huge amount of emotion come over me; and I told him the truth. "I'm really stressed out Michael." I couldn't stop the tears after that. They just kept coming and coming and when I felt Michael's arms around me it just made everything worse. I was bawling and messing up his shirt and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.
I didn't even know how long it went on for, but Michael just held me real close and he kept telling me it was okay like any of this was normal. He was holding me so tight it was like he wanted to pull me right inside him, where I bet it would be warmer and safer and freer, and the longer he was holding me, the longer I cried, until finally; I couldn't find any more tears to let out.
He held me long after I stopped crying too, and we just sat there in the quiet and it was nice.
"Talk to me Jace." He finally said, and I realized that I didn't want to keep anything to myself anymore. It was just too hard. I sat up and he let me, and I liked that he kept his eyes on me. I liked that he looked so concerned.
I breathed in deep and let it out, then I looked down at my hands. "I feel like I have too much stuff in my head and in my...in my heart and it's all too much to keep inside and I feel like I'm gonna burst right open."
He took one of my hands and I stared at his fingers. "What kind of things do you have in your head?" his voice was so soft when he asked.
"Everything. Mostly you." I looked at his face real quick, but he still just looked concerned. "I keep thinking about how I feel and how I want things to work out, and how you say the things you keep saying, but I still can't know whether it's gonna work out. And it's stressing me out every day Michael, because I need to know for sure so I can stop worrying and wondering and losing my fucking mind."
"You need to know for sure if we are going to work out you mean?"
I nodded.
"Well you can't Jace. You won't ever know with any kind of certainty that what we have will last." He said, but he wasn't saying the right things and I tried to move away, but he held on to me. "That's the thing about relationships; any kind of relationship really: you just can't be sure, but people do it anyway. Every time you make a friend it's a risk because you don't know whether somewhere down the line you'll lose your friend forever, but you still form the friendship right?"
I nodded.
"Exactly, the only thing any of us really know is how we feel, and what we intend to do to make the relationship work." He said. "Look at Timmy for instance. You don't know if one day down the line he'll grow up and move half way across the world from you, but you know you love him right?"
I nodded.
"And you know that you'll always be his father and that no matter what happens or what he does, he'll always have a home wherever you are right ?"
"Yeah."
"And that's because he's family, and no matter what happens with family, it can never really end." He put his fingers under my chin, which forced me to look at him. "Let me tell you something. If you really want what we have to work and you work your ass off to make sure it does, then there's absolutely nothing that will stop us from working, because I want it to work too and I'll be working my ass off with you."
"But things like this don't work for me and Timmy."
"Bullshit." He said softly. "Back when you lived on the streets, did you ever think you two would have the life you do now?"
"No."
"Why?"
I shrugged. "Cause things like this don't happen for us, I told you."
"Yet here you are. Things like this are happening for you and they have been for months, so why can't everything else?"
I opened my mouth to tell him why, but I froze, because I hadn't ever thought about it like that before.
Michael smiled. "Everything will work out between us because we both want it to work out and we'll work hard to make it last. So you can stop worrying now and you can't stop feeling stressed."
"But how do you know?"
"Because like I said, no matter how bad it gets between family, you can never really get rid of them, and you and Timmy are my family; whether you want to admit it or not."
I felt my face get hot and my eyes get watery again and I blinked hard to make it go away.
"We're your family?"
"Always."
I nodded. "That's good."
"You want to tell me what's got your heart so full now?"
I looked at him; at his face and into his eyes, and I thought about how long I loved him for and everything that had been happening in my life since the second I realized that I was. I remembered stalking him every Friday night like a lost puppy. I remembered how it felt to want to say hi to him so bad, but being afraid to, and how it felt to stay up in bed every night just thinking about him and wanting him, but knowing I couldn't ever have him; not in a million years. Yet, here I was; living in his house, going to sleep with him beside me every single night, and waking up and seeing him there still.
For some reason Michael chose me. Out of all the people in the world he chose me and Timmy and all he did was take care of us. All he did was make us happy. So happy.
"I think maybe I love you too Michael." I told him for the first time and it was his turn to blink away the tears, before he grinned; the happiest grin I'd ever seen.
"I know Jace."
........................................................
"Daddy lif." Timmy asked for third time since we got out of the car.
"You got legs don't you?"
He looked down to check and I laughed. "You can sit in the cart when we get inside."
I couldn't remember a time I felt so good. Me and Michael had talked for hours after I finally told him how I felt. He told me about his parents and how long they'd been together, and we talked about Timmy and his friends. I told him a lot about life on the streets and about my feelings; lots and lots about my feelings, and I felt like a lot of the stuff that had been pulling me down was just up in the air now. I felt lighter and not as stressed out as I was before.
There were still plenty of stuff I couldn't just forget about or stop worrying about, or thinking about, but there were also plenty of stuff that I felt much better about now too.
I looked at Michael. He was on the phone with some guy named Riley, because we were supposed to go to his house in the morning. Just like that, he'd gone and made so many things easier for me, and all we did was talk.
I told him I loved him. He knew now and I couldn't ever take it back. It made my stomach hurt just thinking about it, but maybe this was a good thing. Timmy was pulling my hand to make me walk faster. Michael's dad had gone and given him soda and now he was all over the place. I didn't like him drinking soda.
I put him in the cart the second we got inside the grocery store, so he could stop whining, and when Michael finished his call, he pushed it.
The place was kinda empty tonight, which was just the way I liked it. That way people didn't stare as much and we could get our groceries in peace.
"Alright. We need orange juice and milk." He said when he looked at the list.
I made sure to look at all of them; trying to get the cheapest.
"Just pick one. Orange juice is orange juice."
Which was why it made sense to get the cheap one. I put it and the milk in the cart. This was one of the reasons I didn't like going grocery shopping with Michael. He just picked up the first thing he saw and didn't even look at the price or the deals. If it said mac and cheese on the list; he just went and picked up the biggest one. If it said pancake mix; he picked the biggest. It didn't matter than he could get the same thing for cheaper, or he could get two for one. As long as it was bigger, it was better.
I rolled my eyes when he picked up the biggest box of cookies and dropped it into the cart.
"We didn't have cookies on the list."
"You can't go wrong with cookies. Right Timmy?" But Timmy wasn't paying attention because he was eating the banana Michael peeled for him like a minute after we came in.
"Hey." He nudged Timmy. "Don't you hear me talking to you? Which one's more important kid? Me or your food?
"Micha Timmy haf eat."
I smiled. This could be us forever. Just the three of us. Then I felt the usual pain in my chest. Or everything could fall apart.
I took a deep breath, maybe tonight when we got home me and Michael could talk about it some more.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
HOPE YOU ENJOYED BEING LOST IN JASON'S MIND FOR A FEW MINUTES.
THANKS FOR READING!
CHECK OUT MY BOOK DOMINANCE AND SUBMISSION OR A VAMPIRE'S MARINE WHILE YOU AIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!
-DoUbLe.A
-unedited.