"You have a lot of awesome toys here," Timothy commented, he's been saying that statement since we both woke up, me still earlier than him. His class starts at eight anyways so we have a lot of time to spare. I bought him his favourite cereals yesterday so I won't have to worry about his food. "Taylor wasn't kidding when she said this place is magical."
"Yeah, I'm sorry the place is sort of dusty," I said.
"It's fine. What I think this place needs is a little remodelling," he said, looking around the place. His curious eyes kept waltzing about the room, from shelf to shelf. "Taylor always told me this is such a good place. All it needs is a little paint and rearranging to add the magic."
That reminds me that I sort of wanted to remodel the place for a while, I just never knew how to. And this is a child's insight, one I very much need for remodelling this place.
"I'm listening," I said. "Fire away."
Timothy told me all about his ideas for the place and he told me to ask for Lendon's help because he's a great architect and he can help me out. Also, that I should probably have more space if I wanted to make the place more child-friendly. I told him I didn't want to expand but he talked me into expanding. I told him that the buildings at my sides were not available. That was the end of our discussion before he got to school.
"And Timo," I said, before he got down from the car. He looked back at me and replied with hum, signifying that he's listening. "If anyone messes with you, let me handle it alright?"
He nodded. "Thanks, Harry."
"Anytime, lad."
That had been the habit between the two of us for the rest of the week. I drop him off to school, and take him back to my place by the time the day ends. I usually would see his classmates jaws drop when I pass by and when we get to my place, he's tell me how his classmates would ask who I was, mostly because they've never seen me before.
"And what would you answer?" I asked, engaging more into the conversation, knowing now that I can be a bit wordy when I want to.
"I'd tell them you're my brother-in-law," he'd say very proudly. I felt relieved when he accepted that lie immediately though I'm quite looking forward for that title to be real. It's too early to think about it, it's why I never told them to Taylor.
When Taylor heard about the news about what I've been doing, we almost stayed up until four a.m. mostly because she was excited about the fact that I am spending some quality time with her brother. Timmy had been a great company anyways but Taylor did warn me not to talk too much during the midnight calls if Timmy is within hearing range because you'll never know whether he's really sleeping or not. I could easily hear how lovely Taylor is taking it. When I asked her where she was, she said, somewhere in Germany and she's going to explore the castles again. I told her to take as many pictures as she could.
Timmy's bruise healed up easily within the weak, gladly, he was a healthy child and he's helped me with planning the whole place. For an eight year-old, he seemed to be much mature but fun at the same time. He's the type of child I never got to be so I tended to listen to whatever he says.
"So I was thinking, you should lose your divider," he said, pointing to divider behind the counter.
"I would lose the archway," I said, in silent protest. I liked that archway.
"If you want to keep it, then expand. I did a little research, the space on either side of your building might be unavailable but the building behind is available. Consider." He smiled at me, putting fake glasses on. Every single day, I'm getting more and more surprised by Timmy.
As we talked, we started eating through burgers and drinking through juice pouches. I tried to take in as many suggestions that were realistic because he had tried to talk me into getting a mini-carousel inside but I would not go with that. That night, after doing his homeworks, he showed me drawings of his plans for the place. They were childish yet some are completely possible. . . some drawings were just plain understandable.
"How did you find time to draw?" I asked, scratching my head as I recalled, I've helped him with his homework and he's never done any of those drawings.
"I did them at school," he answered as if he just outsmarted me. "I know you're not telling Taylor about the plans because you want to surprise her."
That shut me up. I wanted to confront him about drawing at school but he sort of had the upper hand. "You're a real genius, aren't you?"
"I try to predict people like Taylor does," he replied. Well, they're good at what they're doing. Kudos for the weird people.
"Yeah? Look under the table."
His eyebrows knitted together and he bit his lower lip. "I did not predict that. But is there anything down there?" He asked skeptically.
"Probably not," I mumbled. "But try."
He nodded, fixing his fake glasses the way I do and moments later, he put a box on the table. "No way!" He exclaimed once he found out that it was a box of new shoes. They were running shoes, white with black soles, laces and three stripes at the side. "Wow! This is awesome! Thanks Harry!"
I smiled, "It's not fully from me." He raised an eyebrow as a question, but that never fully overcame his excitement. "It's from your father and Lendon too, we sort of shared."
"Really?! Ha! This is so cool! Can I wear it to bed?" He asked cheerily, if he wasn't seated I'd think he would have been jumping up and down by now.
Since there had barely been rules when he stayed with me, I didn't have trouble allowing him to wear it to bed. He's using my bed, by the way. I told him that night that he's going home because I only said it should be a week but then, he said, he's going to ask for extension.
I scoffed, "Why would you want to spend another week with me?" As much as it had been fun for me, I could only imagine how dull it could be for a child. Waking up early, he'll see me drinking coffee while fixing a music box —which, he so curiously gazes at everytime he caught me, like his sister— and then we'll eat cereals, then I'll take him too school, students will look, I'll pick him up from school, we eat dinner, do his homeworks and watch TV, sometimes we'd talk about rearranging the entire shop as well. Of course, I'd take him out for icecream sometimes and I'd give him toys occasionally but it didn't seem enjoyable for a kid.
"I want to see the construction," he said with a smile.
"That would take a month at least," I reasoned out, thinking that arguing with Tim might be the same with arguing with the ladies. . . unsuccessful, I'll always lose.
"Then I'll be here for a month!"
"You've got school, I can always pick you up from school and then drop you off to your house," I said. It's not that I didn't want for him to spend more time here, I just think it would be unfair for his family.
"But —"
"You've done a great help," I told him, ruffling his blond hair in the process. "I'll let the finished product be a surprise."
"No way! You're unfair!" He whined out loud, frowning at me. "Come on, Harry, please."
"Hey, I may be a spoiler but you're not always getting what you want in this household," I told him very sternly.
"Spoken like a true father," he muttered and stood up, making his way upstairs. I didn't like what he said but it got me thinking that I'm not getting any younger. . . and I've got no experience in having a family. "Harry!" He yelled later on, his tiny voice echoing all over the place.
"What?" I asked in my calm voice.
"Why don't we let Taylor decide?"
I knew right then, I'd lose the argument. Taylor would probably side with her brother on this one. That would be an entire advantage as it would seem like she had a spy inside my premises.
"No, we let your parents decide," I said following him upstairs where he's already settled in front of his cellphone, sitting quite comfortably on my bed. He perked an eyebrow at me so I walked towards him, sitting on the side of the bed that wasn't preoccupied.
"Look, it's not that I don't want you around," I said in a very apologetic way, barely knowing what to say next, and how I say it. "It's just a bit unfair for your parents, you know."
"Nope," he said, completely out of context. "My parents would agree." He continued typing into his phone.
My eyebrows met. "How'd you know that?" I asked.
"Because they just agreed." He smiled, showing me his phone.
And, well, the construction is about to begin.
For day one, the ones I hired weren't going to come over yet so Tim and I used all the time we could to pack up the toys and store them up in the basement. He said that after this, my basement would be empty because the whole idea was to change from an antique toy store to an all-around toy store which meant major changes that I'm not quite used to. Timmy and I drove around town to handle some papers that could already be handled while some are to be left for later.
Timothy had loads of suggestions over the weekend and he seemed to be the acting supervisor. He's acting like a grown up, in fact, if I may say so myself, he's acting like Taylor at times. They seemed to be good in people interaction, along with reading psychological lines. I've only seen a bare glimpse of how their parents raise them but they're doing a hell of a good job.
Within three days of construction, despite the fact that Timothy had school over half of those days, he already knows the name of the people working for the toy shop whereas I'm having trouble with remembering their names.
To add to the positive things, Timmy rarely gets in trouble for school now. He's back to the behaved student Taylor told me he is. There were times though that he'd really be nice, helping his teacher and all. I came to his school one evening and he's there cutting hearts and cupids out of cartolinas with his teachers. Miss Kenworth is right there, along with two teachers that seemed to be of the same age and three other students who decided to stay.
It made me want to hit my head for a moment as it should be Valentines' day tomorrow. How could I even forget?! There's pink and red everywhere, too many hearts all around plus the flowers on sale. Catching the whole love atmosphere wasn't exactly difficult but I would have felt it if Taylor was here.
Heads turned to me awkwardly when I entered. At the very least I knew my gaze was apologetic and horrified at the very same time. "I'm sorry, should I have came later?" I asked, quite unsure of what to say or do.
"No, we are almost finished," Miss Kenworth said. I spotted the other two teachers exchanging glances yet I ignored that and went directly to Timothy who was very busy with his arts and crafts. These days, he's been very fond of using fake glasses so's to imitate me but I took that as a good sign.
I looked around the room, Cupid cut-outs, hearts and Valentines Day Cards were either on the walls or on the ceiling. I see why Timmy is helping out, this sort of thing reminds me of their family.
"Really? Can I do something to help?" I asked. I looked down at Tim, looking for an answer but he simply shrugged.
"I don't know. Ask Teacher Vanessa." So I did but the pretty teacher only told me to wait as they're nearly finished. She's pretty, there was no denying, brown hair, always clamped behind her back everytime I see her and nice brown eyes. . . But that's all as I'm not interested in her or the other two chattering teachers.
I sat beside Timothy quietly, feeling a bit more uncomfortable by the second. I couldn't help cutting hearts seeing as I haven't got any scissors and I would never dare to ask for one —the stolen glances from the teachers were rather uncomfortable. Instead, I touched the hearts Timothy cut and played with them with my fingertips —making it seem so interesting to be worth my time.
"Teacher told us to make Valentine's Day Cards to special people," Tim said, pertaining to his pretty teacher that has the same name as Vannie.
"Mhmm." I just hummed, I don't have a reply for that and I'm far much too busy on examining the cut-out hearts. I didn't want to glance upwards anyways, knowing that there had been gazes settled on me. I'll just save their humiliation by making it seem like I didn't catch them in action. I don't think that's allowed. . . at all.
"Aren't you going to make one for Taylor?" He asked, and I am thankful he said his sister's name out loud.
"I love her, she knows that," I said with a wide smile. "Besides, there are other ways of saying what you want without cards. Never been a fan of letters."
"Taylor is," he said, though his eyes were concentrated on that heart, I know he was paying so much attention in our conversation.
"I can't really give her a card when she's a continent away, now can I?" As I said the words, my mind started searching for some idea on what to do for Taylor, other than when she comes home, the toy shop will be completely different.
"Hey, I'm trying to be your wingman here," he said and for a moment, I felt like it was Franco who is talking to me and not Timothy. He shouldn't talk like that, he's an eight year-old for the love of God!
"Don't talk like that." I gazed at him seriously, my voice growing deep. "I don't need one, much less want one, the very least, you cannot be one. Tim, you're eight," I reminded him.
"I know but—"
"Please stay that way," I said calmly. I don't want him to act like a grown up. There are times when, yes, it could be very amusing but I'd rather talk to a child being a child. They haven't got any idea how lucky they are. "No talks of wingmen and all that junk, yeah?"
He gazed at me first, looking at me with those studying blue eyes until he said, "Okay." Then he went back to cutting the hearts.
I was more or less seven when William taught me the life of a teenager, since at the time, he was nineteen. By then, I've already tasted what wine and beer tasted like. He and Darwin both got in trouble for that. They introduced me to the teenager life too early, hence, I got my first times too early. . . in result, we all grew old early.
Apart from Franco, that is.
When I looked up, I saw Miss Kenworth and the other brunette beside her were looking my way but pretended to be looking at somewhere else once I did. Now, I just suddenly wanted to get our of here as soon as I can.
"Tim," I called quietly, making sure that he will be the only one to hear. He hummed, letting me know that I was listening. "Can we please be quick? I need to call your sister."
He sighed, "Okay." He started fixing his things and clearing his table, I helped him to hasten the deed as I'd rather not stay here for another few minutes. Things just feel rather off.
We both bid our farewells and then after, I walked away as soon as I possibly could. Timothy did his best to catch up so I slowed down the moment I realized it'd be tiring for an eight year-old to try to keep up with my rapid pace.
Again inside the car, Timmy was singing along the songs to a rockband from the 90's, headbanging and laughing like kids and hardcore fans usually do. I let him do his thing, never bothering the noise that usually would unsettle me.
The place was still under construction, but by the time we got there, a few of the carpenters were left because it's already past five. They all went home eventually. One of the first few things they changed was my staircase, it's gone now. It was replaced by a foldable ladder that should be pulled before it comes down, like the way those ladders do in attics. Once we got pass that struggle, we started doing our own thing and dinner after.
As we ate, Tim mentioned something I've been suspecting.
"My teachers talk about you," he said without a hint of fear or anything, it's just plain giving-of-information. Maybe in his mind it's something that I need to know, but something that he shouldn't care about. But to be frank, it's something that I really do not care about.
I wasn't curious about whatever they're saying so I continued eating my food after giving Timmy a nod.
"They were just talking about you before you came in earlier. Handsome brother," he said very seriously like a grown-up.
"Dismiss that," I told him. "They're just bored. Besides, they missed that in-law part."
Timothy smiled once he heard the last statement and I did as well. His face lit up looking like he just had the brightest idea. All of a sudden right after, he stood up, searched his bag for something and came back with a pinkish, slightly brownish envelop. I have no idea what you call that colour.
"What is this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Happy Valentines' Day," he said then continued eating through his fried chicken as if it's his last day on earth.
I licked the tip of my fingers off before wiping them with on my pants. Alright. Valentine's Day is tomorrow but alright. I opened it, glancing at Timothy but he wasn't paying attention. I suppose he doesn't want to see my reaction.
I've never had a child give me a card. . . it feels slightly weird but I could tolerate it. I didn't even know he'd give me one.
I unfolded the card inside and started reading. . .
To Darth Vader, the Duke of Queens
Thanks for keeping me out of trouble. Thanks for the icecream and thanks for the shoes and thanks for the other things.
P.S. I wish my sister marries you.
Pps. Don't tell her I said that.
Skywalker
Then below is a drawing of me as Darth Vader —at least that's what it looked like— and I suppose that was Taylor at the side.
I smiled at Tim, ruffling his hair. "Thanks Tim."
"Don't tell her I said that," he whispered as if Taylor would hear when she's thousands of miles away.
"Don't worry," I whispered back. "I wish that too," I said with a wink before continuing with my food.
Cupid's arrow struck and I was done for.
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Author's ♪
Might take a long while before I update again. On the road. . . so, before I go, two last updates. Hahahaha.
Stay safe everyone
And
Stay awesome!!!! 😭😘😍😢
~DP22