-Chapter Two-
(Can't Handle The Poop)
Jackson was angry.
No, he's always angry. Right now, he was furious.
Jackson had been hiding in his private washroom for almost two hours, trying to wash out the coffee stain off his pants. Standing there in his black boxer-brief, he stared blankly at the dark black stain, hoping that if he stared hard enough the stain would magically disappeared. Jackson definitely hoped he stared hard enough that a black hole would appear in thin air and suck his whole existence right off this world. His hands were shaking in anger as he was rubbing the stain with a bar of soap, the soap broke into half under his strength and he lost himself by chucking the pants at the marble floor.
Jackson clenched his eyes shut and tuned out the rumbling engine coming from above. He needed to calm down, he couldn't afford to explain to his secretary why his mirror was broken again. She asked too much questions and the judgy look she gave him only made him angrier.
Jackson swallowed thickly, fists holding tightly to his sides. He wanted to break the mirror, he was tempted now he'd thought about it. The anger was oozing itself out from his body, breaking out slowly into wasp. No, Jackson thought, he needed to let it out now. He opened his eyes and with a sudden burst of adrenaline, he rammed his fist right onto the mirror.
He let out a clear sigh of relief until the pain exploded at his knuckles. Blood, his blood was breaking out from his skin and damping all over the shattered mirror. Jackson grit his teeth and held his bleeding hand under the running water, hissing with pain and gripping the edge of the sink with his other hand as the water washed the blood away into the drain. He turned off the tap after he could finally ignore the tingling pain left on his fist, slumping his whole body on the wall to rest his mind.
If only Jackson could wish it all away with a dandelion in hand or a shooting star across the night.
...
He's Jackson Ford for God sake!
Barely reaching the age of thirty, Jackson had graduated from Harvard University with a MBA degree. Due to his exquisite physique, he was a former model during his college year and he was on the cover of GQ magazine once. He only ended his modeling year when he had to return to his family business. His mother was Claire Ford, if anyone who didn't know her, they might have shopped at her mall, CM Ford. Claire Ford had an idea of offering a unique VIP segment for those big spenders and shopaholics. The idea soon blew up to be a popular hit in the marketing industry, allowing CM Ford to be featured as the most influence shopping mall of all America, she had hundreds of establishments spread over Italy, Taiwan, Japan, and China.
And Jackson Ford had been managing his mother's America branch of CM Ford all by himself the second he left the airport from Bali. He had gone through hell with the early and late night meetings, stubborn and snobbish clients, and lousy workers in order to keep up his outstanding achievement in raising the company's performance by 10%.
Jackson Ford was determined to be on top, being the son of the woman who had owned the biggest marketing enterprise across the countries, he had to live up the image. Hoping to create the illusion as the perfect man, Jackson Ford had done it all.
But today's outrageous scene had left the shards of a perfect man.
He fired a lot of people, like a bunch of them. But never once a person was dared enough to dump his coffee on-
Oh god, Jackson was all fired up again, just thinking about Andrew Walker had brought a lot of blood and gore to his mind when he was done with him. He had personally called up his attorney to make sure he could sue Andrew Walker until he could no longer live on this planet. That was an assault and the rumor? Jackson had to remember the pain of his hand to calm down.
It took half an hour for the pants to dry under the heater before he was seated in his chair once more, scrolling down his email and deleting almost everything until he came upon a woman's name.
Jenna Watson
Custody Agreement Form
10:32 AM
There's also one flaw that everyone knew about Jackson Ford, it's that his wife left him six months ago. It was an ugly divorce after Jackson found out Jenna was using him to grant access into CM Ford's share. When the cat was out the bag, Jenna was pregnant with Jackson's child and she used an innocent life as a threat to rip off half of Jackson's fortune or else she would go through a third trimester abortion. Jackson paid her and had her to give him the full custody of the child.
Ten million wasn't a small amount of cash, it took a while to borrow the money from his mother. The email right in front of him was the last of the documents before she gave the child to Jackson. Jackson clicked on the email and skimmed through the pages before typing the information the court wanted, making sure he was careful with his choice of words. Beneath the last page was Jenna's personal message.
The children are yours. See you sometimes, Jackson.
Jackson was wondering if today's the day to make Jackson angry so that he could burn on his own existence right off this world. It was almost sad how miserable Jackson had apparently become in a day. Jackson liked to think of his life as simple and drama-free when he was still a model; now everything seemed to be thunderstorms and blizzard.
Jackson was absently grateful that he wasn't holding anything fragile, otherwise his hand would need stitches. He snagged up his phone and dialed the only number in his phonebook, fingers rubbing his temples as it rang. The longer it took, the more tense he got until the voice mail picked up and a very cheerful sounding woman came through on the recording.
"If you're looking for me, please dial the second time because I might be having my power nap. Or don't call at all, leave a message then."
Jackson didn't even wait for the beep as he sent his phone flying across the room, watching it split into tiny pieces. Jackson picked up the phone on his desk, telling his secretary to get the fuck inside this instant. The door opened and a petite woman in black frames came in timidly. Jackson knew everyone was scared and he was glad, fear meant progressive. His secretary noticed the mess on the floor, her frown was on her face before she realized Jackson was glaring at her.
She went out and came back with an empty plastic bag in one hand and a new phone in another. Hebe squatted in front of the broken pieces of Jackson's old cell, gently putting the debris into the bag. She did everything so fast and clean, already handing the new phone with the previous sims to Jackson. Having a hot-tempered boss like Jackson, Hebe was used to the damage he always caused when he lost it. Hebe also fished out her phone when she noticed the cut on Jackson's hand, telling the man to buy a new mirror for the bathroom.
When she was excused, Jackson felt a lot better.
After Jackson went back to his work mode, answering calls and meeting clients, he's back in his office around ten. The last day of light finally settled in from the window behind him, peeking over the skyscrapers of New York City before they turned the blinding light on to begin the nightlife of the city that never sleeps. It was always this moment that had Jackson to really think about his choice. For a lot of the people outside this closed door, they all wanted to have this view, to be the one who owned the fortune of CM Ford.
But Jackson missed the way the stream of light toppled over the treetops in Bali as the fog rolled out from behind the rest house, clearing the last bit of eerie shadow of the cloudy sky overhead. Staring at these city lights, sometimes he wished he was a model again.
Then he snapped out his memory when his cell phone started to ring, Jackson cursed at his own carelessness before answering without looking at the number.
"Hello? Is this Mr. Ford?"
A pitchy, unfamiliar female voice spoke softly over the other line. At first, Jackson contemplated to just hang up at the woman he didn't recognize, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to wait a little longer.
"Who is this?"
Jackson could feel the woman tensed at his monotone, there was a lengthy pause before she cleared her throat.
"Uh, I'm your neighbor, Mrs. Houston."
Jackson remembered her, she was the one who kept giving him baskets of homemade banana bread every Friday. There's a whine coming from the other line and Mrs. Houston was suddenly cooing, Jackson felt a chill at the voice.
A second and then, "I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Ford but there seems to be babies outside your apartment."
That shook Jackson right out of boredom, he sat up and held the phone closely to his ear.
"What do you mean babies?"
"I was heading out when I saw two cribs on your doormat, I was surprised to see two young babies in them. It's horrible for anyone to leave them here. I'm sorry, but are they yours?"
"I think you're mistaken, Mrs. Houston. I don't have-"
"There's an envelope in one of the cribs, it has your name written on it."
Envelope? Jackson's mind was running ten miles a second before the words from this morning flashed across his eyes.
The children are yours.
Children
"I'm on my way, Mrs. Houston. Can you look after them for me until I'm back?" Jackson was already locking his office doors, making his way to the lift.
"Of course, I'll be here."
"Thank you," Jackson hang up and pressed B2 on the pad once he's inside the lift, legs and hands were already shaking in anxiety. He dashed out from the lift and headed to his car at front of the parking lot. Without even pausing to breathe, he started the ignition and screeched out from the parking lot and into the busy highway. Upon reaching another red light, the rings in his ears were louder and clearer with his suffocating breath still going on forever.
She could be a heartless bitch, but she would never leave a- two toddlers on the front of his apartment without telling him anything. But Jackson's gut was already burning with dread as he knew Jenna could have done it. The abortion was the complete proof to show what kind of woman she was. What if Mrs. Houston didn't see them and it was a stranger who did, the thought had Jackson ignoring the red light and speeding up. He whizzed past a hundreds of cars and nearly crashed onto an on-coming cab, horns blaring around him.
At last, he made it to his apartment.
He let the valet take his car and ignore everyone who greeted at him until he's in the lift. Jackson couldn't force himself to remain calm more than he could stop the racing heart that was threatening to break out from his ribcage. He leaned back against the wall and exhaled slowly and shakily, still unable to reign in his panic.
The doors finally opened wide and he quickly got out, only to stop dead in the front of the lift.
Jackson forgot to breathe, shock hitting him from out of nowhere. He just stood there, staring at Mrs. Houston trying hard to craddle both of the now crying toddlers. She only noticed him when one of the toddlers stopped kicking, making grabby hands at Jackson. It felt like a pull of gravity and the next thing Jackson knew, he had two toddlers clinging to each of his arms.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ford. But I gonna go, my sister's waiting for me. I'll try to visit you tomorrow." Jackson could only manage a small nod as four hands were already playing with his face. Jackson had to readjust them until one of them was craddled against his chest and another on his hip. The one with near his chest were giggling near his ear, wrapping his arms around his throat and kept on tugging on his collar.
The expression on Jackson's face was something along the lines of a deer in the headlight and a man who had just been informed his wife was having her tenth baby. Jackson looked down at the one near his hip, shock to see he had already fallen asleep. Gently, he put the giggling brother into a blue crib before putting the sleepy head into his other crib. The envelope stuck out under the blue crib as he entered his pin number before carrying both of the cribs into his house.
-
Dear Jackson,
I have failed to mention that we're having twins.
Both of their birth certificates are inside the envelope too. The one who sleeps a lot is James and the other is Jeremy. They look the same to me, hope you'll know who is who.
I wish you luck in your newfound fatherhood.
Love, Jenna Watson.
Jackson crumbled the note into a ball and threw it into the wastebin near his feet. He was in the kitchen with two cribs on the countertop, the gear in his head was running in full speed. James, obviously, was still sleeping. As for Jeremy, he was now crying. Jackson's face grew a shade of red, from both the anger from the letter and the hopleless of doing what. He picked Jeremy up who kept screaming, kicking and punching him in the neck. Jackson moved his head and arm out of the way a lot when he saw the fists coming at him, he looked like he was a few seconds away from snapping entirely and losing all patience.
Then a foul smell hit his nostrils.
"Shit."
Jackson hit himself mentally when he realized he just cursed in front of a toddler. He quickly approached the kitchen counter and set him on the counter horizontally, he went back to the crib to search for new diapers but he found none in it. He searched James' crib and sent a prayer when he found one in the side pocket. Jackson returned to Jeremy and sighed in relief when Jeremy had calmed down a tiniest bit, but still sobbing quite hard. Jackson pull down his trousers and slowly unclasped the sides of the dirty diapers.
Oh god.
He thought he was prepared but apparently this was too much even for him. He gagged for a second before returning to clean up the mess. He thanked God he had purchased a box of wet wipes when he was out of the mall the other day. He tried his best to clean Jeremy's butt, wiping away the poop with the wipes before wrapping the dirty diaper in newpapers, disposing it in the wastebin. Jeremy was chuckling now with his chubby arms and legs bouncing in excitement when Jackson was questioning the design of the clean diaper.
He sent a glare at the baby, "you're loving this, don't you?"
Jeremy replied with a set of giggles.
Jackson lifted Jeremy off the counter and together they went back to James, only to find James was already sniffing in tears. Of course Jackson did one thing he was goof at, getting angry. He might have dropped Jeremy into the crib a little bit too harsh, now he had two toddlers crying. Jackson just wanted to break everything in the house, he couldn't handle this. He let both of them crying and left the kitchen, pacing back and forth in his living room. It was only for a moment before Jackson moved back to the kitchen.
Upon reaching the kitchen, he noticed James was trying to reach for something on his side. He walked closer and saw the bottles sticking out beside James. Jackson pull out two full bottles of milk, smacking himself mentally for not thinking they might be hungry.
By the time he'd done feeding both of them and admiring how quickly they had dozed off to sleep after that, his head hurt. The panic of the situation and the stress of the day had just made everything amplified.
He knew what he had signed up for when he wanted full custody of the child, emphasizing on the singular noun of child, not children. He watched silently as James and Jeremy slept in their cribs, breathing normally and softly. Something tugged on his chest and he gulped at the sudden tingle in his stomach. A sudden impulse had him leaning forward, giving each of them a kiss on their foreheads. He stayed between them and enjoyed the warmth of his children. Looking at them, he couldn't help but to smile for the first time today. He was surprised at himself as he could still smile after what he'd gone through today.
Jackson Ford might be a bitter man, but he knew he had to change for the sake of these two children.
Although he still couldn't handle the poop.
But for now Jackson was grateful everything's okay. His sons were fine, he was fine.
And for once, he was genuinely happy.
+-+
I hope you enjoy this chapter as well as I enjoy writing it.
Vote, Comment & Share the Love!
Love, ET.
+-+