American Bad Boy(44)

“I know you are honey. You really gave me a scare.”

“Mom, do you think I’m bad? I mean, I know I’ve been doing a lot of bad stuff. Do you think it’s too late to be good now?” He twists the edge of his comforter in his hands and looks down.

“You’re not bad. You’ve just made some bad choices, Chris. Everyone does. Even I’ve made bad choices.” Like not telling Mack he’s your father. The thought flits through my mind leaving a fiery trail of guilt.

“You have?” Chris looks up at me, but still clutches the blanket in his hands. It reminds me of when he was three and he wouldn’t give up his baby blanket. I finally had enough of trying to coax him to stop dragging it everywhere, so when he was sleeping one night I snuck it out of his room and cut it up, stuffing the evidence in the bottom of the trash can.

Chris looked high and low for that stupid blanket, eventually finding a strand of his favorite blue blankie covered in coffee grounds and dust at the edge of the can. He pulled out the shred of blanket and wrapped it around his little hands, refusing to let it go, like a little boxer taping his hands before a fight. And what a fight he put up! I finally gave in to him, letting him keep that frayed fabric in his room until he was ready to let it go.

“Yep, even I have. You can’t get through life without making mistakes. It’s how we learn. It doesn’t make you bad, it makes you human.”

His chin quivers and his eyebrows drop as tears slide down the edge of his nose. “So, you still love me then? You’re not mad at me?” he whispers.

I lean in and wrap my arms around him, “Of course I love you! Nothing can change that, honey. Not a single thing. We’re gonna have good times and bad, but I’m always going to love you, Christopher! A mother never stops loving her kids, so I’m sorry, but you’re just stuck with me loving you forever and ever and ever!” I squeeze him tight.

“Ok, Mom! You can let go now,” my son’s voice is muffled by my bear hug and I smile. “Oh, all right. I guess it’s not cool to hug your Mom anymore, huh?” I tease him.

“No, I’m growing up you know. Mack said that I’m the man of the house.” He puffs his chest out proudly.

“I know he did, but don’t be in too big of a rush to grow up, ok? And don’t think that you’re too big to talk to me when things are getting hard for you. We’ve got to stick together, you and I. Got it?”

“Got it,” Chris smiles and slides back down against his pillow. His eyelids look like they weigh a hundred pounds, but he’s still fighting to keep them open.

I give his hand a squeeze and walk over to his door. “Goodnight Chris. Have sweet dreams, honey.”

“I will.” he mumbles back. “Oh, and Mom?”

“Yeah, hon?” I turn and look at him snuggled up in his bed. There’s the boy I forgot I had. Looking so innocent and being so sweet.

“If you want to marry Mack, I just want you to know that it’s ok with me.” He smiles and closes his eyes, resting his head.

I don’t even know what to say to that, and from the soft snores coming from Chris, I don’t think I need to say anything.

“Good night Chris.” I turn off his light and close the door, leaning my head back against it, I think about what he just said.

Kids are so perceptive! It’s amazing what they see, what they know. Us adults could learn a thing or two from them.





25





Mack





2014




I hear Lauren shuffling around upstairs, I imagine she’s probably getting me a blanket to crash on the couch with. It’s been a crazy night; I’m guessing she’s exhausted after all the drama. I listen to her feet softly padding down the stairs. My mouth drops open when I see her bare legs through the bannister. My eyes travel up her body to the tiny booty shorts and fitted tank top she’s wearing. Oh my God, she’s a fucking tease!

“What are you wearing?” My voice is louder than I intended, I clear my throat and try to turn down the volume, “Are you trying to kill me?” I immediately stand up and walk over to her. Like she’s gravity or a magnetic pull. Like science itself has created a new law that refuses to let me stay away from her.

“This?” She looks down over her tiny clothes, then up at me, batting her dark eyelashes innocently. “This is just what I wear to bed.”

“If that’s what you wear to bed, then I think I’m going to need to keep you company,” I run my hands down her back and press my body against hers.

“No,” she says quietly.

“What?” I heard her, but I’m hoping my ears are mistaken.