Right here, right now, I finally understand what the word love means as I scan this little boy’s face. His body is stretching in my lap. Love is this magical little boy, who a man like me does not deserve. I’ve done some fucked up shit in my life. I will continue to do the same every day, but one thing I will never do is fail him. Not fucking ever.
“Hey, dude.” I try my hardest not to cry. Jesus, I cannot help it, the tears drift down my face. What the hell did I ever do in my life to be holding a miracle in my hands? To see him looking up at me as if he knows who the hell I am? I see so much in his eyes. A life full of memories. Good ones. Not the shit life I’ve lived, not knowing what kind of mood my mother would be in when I came home from school. Or if one morning I would be called a bastard, and the next the person who ruined her life. Screw that. He’s going to have the best childhood memories any child can have.
“You have a kick ass room here, boy.” His tiny hand reaches upward, and when I place my finger in his, he grips it tight. Badass right there. Strong.
“Are you a tough little man?” He mumbles and grips my finger tighter. This is the purest love can get. I’m pulled to this little boy. My heart is aching to promise him I will never let him down, never make him feel less than the true person he is. Never leave him with a void in his heart so deep that he looks in all the wrong places just to be able to feel.
He will never have to try and earn my love, because he already has it. My unconditional, irreplaceable love.
“You doing all right?” Deidre walks in. I cannot help but travel my eyes over her body. She’s changed into a pair of those tight yoga pants and a loose tank top that’s hanging off one of her shoulders. Her tanned skin is exposed. Am I an asshole for wanting to bite her shoulder? Then turn around and lick her exposed neck all the way up to her mouth? No, I’m not. I’ve always been drawn to her. Knowing she gave birth to my son out of her sensual body makes me crave her all the more.
I temper my shit down. We have so much to talk about before I have her under me, but I will have her. She’s mine. Both of them are.
“I’m not ready to give him back if that’s what you mean,” I shrug.
“Well, I need him so I can change his diaper. Unless you want to do it?” She starts laughing wildly.
“What? You don’t think I can change him?” I joke.
“No, I don’t. But hey,” she holds up her hands in defeat, “have at it.” She walks toward a small table and pulls out a diaper and what looks like some cream and a bunch of other shit. Fuck, I should have just handed him to her.
“Come on, big daddy. Let me give you your first lesson.” She twists that cute, little body of hers around, her eyes beckoning me to come to her. I look from her to the baby. How the hell do I stand up?
“Put your hand under his bottom and the other under the back of his head, Aidan, and just stand.” Her arms move in a dramatic upward motion.
I do as she says, wondering if this women’s retreat she stayed at taught her how to read minds too? I stalk over to her with steady hands. She reaches out, taking him from me, then lays him down and steps back.
“What?” she mocks. Her hands go to her hips. Little Miss Sass is back, and she finds this shit funnier than I sure as heck do.
“Get the hell over here.” I grab her gently by the arm and tug her to my side.
“Oh, no. You need to learn just like I did. Undo those little tabs right there, then lift his butt up and take the diaper off.” Demanding little witch.
“I’m doing this shit,” I say. And I do. I got this shit down the first try. Powdered his little ass, cleaned around his junk, and put the diaper back on.
“Oh, my god,” she belts out in a humorous laughter. Her hands go to her thighs. Tears start to form down her face as she cackles away.
“What the hell?” I say, baffled at this crazy ass woman, who cannot seem to get herself under control.
“You dip shit. You don’t put the dirty diaper back on. You grab a new one. Oh, my god!” She keeps on with her laughter. Fuck. I thought I had this shit.
“I’m sorry, Aidan, but this is funny.” Yeah, what the fuck ever, I want to say to her. Her goddamn facial expression does not show any remorse whatsoever.
“There’s a bottle on the kitchen counter. Will you grab it? Let me do this. We’ll be right out.” She’s wiping her tears off her face.
I watch her pull the diaper off of him, grab another wipe, and clean him up again.
“Didn’t I clean up his junk right?” I mimic her stance from a minute ago, my hands on my hips.