Wait For Me Read online

  “Oooh! I can help with that,” Jessa shouts.

  “No, you can’t,” Nick chides. “You’re not setting my sister up.”

  “Why not?” Jessa and I ask at the same time.

  “Ugh,” he groans. “This is how it’s going to be when you’re here, isn’t it? The two of you ganging up on me all the time?”

  “Pretty much,” I confirm. “I hate to cut our call short, but I need to finish packing and take care of a few things before I leave.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow. Call me as soon as you land.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’ll work on that hunky man,” Jessa says, her words turning into a laugh, presumably because Nick tackles her or kisses her, or does something else that’s disgustingly sweet.

  “Thanks, Jessa. Love you guys. Bye.”

  4

  Grayson

  “Daddy.” My sweet Emma bug tugs on the bottom of my shirt. “Jack hit me.”

  Jack stomps into the room, full of spit and fire. “Did not!”

  “Did too!”

  “Did not!”

  “Enough.” I pick Emma up and prop her on my hip.

  I came home from work, cleaned the house, threw in a load of laundry, unclogged the toilet because Emma thought it was a good idea to flush one of her toys—and now this. I just want to grab a cold drink and relax without someone yelling, screaming, or crying.

  Is that too much to ask for?

  “What happened?” I ask, looking at Jack.

  Emma puts her sticky fingers on my cheeks and pulls my face until I’m looking at her. “He hit me.”

  “Jack, did you hit your sister?”

  His scowl would put a teenager to shame. “This is stupid.”

  He turns to walk out of the room, but I catch his arm and point to a chair at the table.

  “Sit. I’m not done talking with you.” I look at Emma. Her cheeks are smeared with an unknown substance and when she smiles, revealing two rows of her itty-bitty baby teeth, my heart melts. “Can you do me a big, huge favor?”

  Her little head bobs. “Yes.”

  “I want you to go in the living room and draw me a picture of a rainbow. Can you do that?”

  “Wif a pot of gold?”

  “That would be even better.” I put her down and watch her run off, her blond curls bouncing, and then I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the fight that’s inevitably about to begin.

  Jack is my first born and a tiny replica of his mother. Everything about him is like Lorelei—his dark eyes and hair, his voice, and his stubborn personality. I love the kid to death, but he has a chip on his shoulder a mile wide, and a mouth to go with it. And he’s only six. I can’t imagine how he’s gonna be as a teenager.

  “What happened, buddy?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and closes in on himself. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not gonna believe me anyway.”

  “That’s not true.” I sit next to him at the table and prop one arm on the back of his chair.

  “Yes, it is. You always believe Emma because you love her more.”

  “Jack—”

  “It’s true.” He finally looks at me. Unshed tears fill his chocolate-colored eyes. “You spend all of your time with Emma and Henry. You’re always feeding them and changing Henry’s diaper or giving them baths and reading them stories.”

  “All things I’ve done for you.” I ruffle his hair, but Jack jerks his head away. Why is this parenting gig so hard? “They’re younger than you, and sometimes they require a little more care. You’re a big boy now and can do some things on your own that they can’t.”

  He looks less than pleased with my answer. He huffs and stares at a spot on the table.

  “How about you and I do something this weekend?”

  “Like what?” He broods.

  “We could take the four-wheeler for a ride. Maybe go fishing or go to the park and play catch.”

  “Without Emma and Henry?”

  “Sure.” No clue what I’m going to do with the rugrats while we go, but I’m sure I can figure something out. I have to, because it’s clear Jack needs some extra attention.

  He’s always been my wild card, fiercely independent and a little over the top, but his behavior took a turn for the worse when Lorelei left. He’s the oldest and had spent the most time with her, so he remembers her being here. I’m not sure yet if that’s a good thing or bad.

  I love that he has memories of his mom that the other two won’t, but I hate that he remembers what it was like when she fell apart. He remembers her lashing out and throwing things, but the thing that haunts me the most is that he remembers finding her passed out on the bathroom floor—the lifeless look in her eyes and a needle sticking out of her arm.

  The counselor says I need to give him time, but I just want my happy-go-lucky little boy back.

  “You promise?” he asks.

  “I pinky swear.” I hold out my pinky.

  Jack stares at it for a second, but eventually hooks his little finger around mine.

  “Maybe we can talk about what you want to do for you birthday this year.”

  It’s right around the corner and will be here before I know it. If we don’t start planning it now, it’ll never get done.

  “Can I have my friends over?”

  “Sure. Now, will you tell me why you hit your sister?”

  His eyes fall to the table, the defiant look from a few moments ago fading fast. “I didn’t mean to. She knocked over my Legos when she was reaching for her doll, and I accidentally whacked her with my elbow.”

  I raise a brow. “Accidentally whacked her?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “It just happened.”

  Yeah, right. The little shit probably did it on purpose, but I have to pick my battles, and right now I don’t have the energy to fight with him about this.

  “You need to go apologize.”

  Jack rolls his eyes, slides out of the chair, and sulks into the living room. I listen carefully for the apology, and then I walk down the hall and peek into Henry’s room to find him standing up in his crib. He’s gnawing on the top rail and holds his hands in the air when he sees me.

  “Up.”

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?” I pluck him out of the crib. His chubby arms wrap around my neck, and he rests his head on my shoulder. “Did Angela wear you out today?” I say.

  Angela is the kids’ sitter, a retired kindergarten teacher. I hit the jackpot when I found her. With no kids or grandkids and a husband who’s still working, she was more than willing to take a job watching the kids for me.

  She’s great with them, and they adore her, which is really all that matters.

  “Daddy!” I wince at Emma’s ear-piercing scream. Henry seems completely unaffected. “Jack putted gum in my hair.”

  “It was an accident!” Jack argues.

  I grit my teeth and walk into the living room. “Jack.”

  “I said it was an accident. It just fell outta my mouth.”

  This kid is a pain in my ass. I pray for patience—something I seem to have less and less of these days.

  “You’re telling me your gum accidentally fell out of your mouth and happened to land in Emma’s hair?”

  “Yep.”

  “Here. Take your brother.” He grumbles, but takes Henry while I squat down to inspect Emma’s hair. Sure enough, there’s a large pink blob nestled there. “I think I can get it.”

  I reach for the sticky goo, but it doesn’t come loose, and Emma screams. She slaps a hand to her hair, covering the pink mess. “Dat hurt.”

  “Sweetie, I’ve got to get the gum out.”

  “You could just cut all of her hair off,” Jack suggests with an ornery grin.

  Emma’s eyes grow round. “No!”

  “I’m not going to cut your hair.” Unless I have to.

  “Why not? It’ll probably look better than it does now.”

  “Jack Andrew, go to your room
.”

  “Fine.” He puts Henry down beside me and walks away as if he’s glad I’m sending him.

  I make a mental note to find other ways to punish him. Taking his iPad away doesn’t work. Maybe I’ll make him clean out the toilet or something equally as gross.

  “Is my hair gonna fall out?”

  “No, sweetheart, your hair isn’t going to fall out.” At least I hope it doesn’t. What the hell do I know about removing gum from hair?

  I take my phone out of my pocket to Google it as Henry tugs on my arm to pull himself up. He doesn’t have a good grip and tumbles back, smacking his head on the coffee table. Loud sobs begin immediately, and a cup wobbles precariously on the table.

  Damn it. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” I scoop him up and cradle him to me as the cup topples off the table. It lands on the floor; the lid pops off, and chocolate milk goes flying.

  Son of a bitch. Why do these things happen to me?

  “Emma, honey, can you grab the cup for me? Shhhh.” I rub Henry’s head, hoping it’ll stop him from screaming in my ear. “Jack, can you get in here and give me a hand?”

  “I’m in trouble, remember?” he yells.

  How did my life come to this? And it’s only Monday.

  Never mind. Stupid question. I know how and why and when and all the horrible details in between.

  With Henry cradled to my chest, I walk into the kitchen, grab a string of paper towels, and toss them over the mess on the living room floor.

  Emma leans right under my nose and starts wiping up the mess. She’s pushing the milk around more than she’s cleaning it up, but I love that she wants to help, so I let it go.

  Henry finally calms down and wiggles out of my hold. I kiss his head and set him on the floor by his toys so I can finish helping Emma clean up.

  “Thank you,” I tell her.

  She responds by smiling and hands me a wad of towels dripping with chocolate milk.

  “What happened?” Jack asks, walking into the living room.

  I sit back on my haunches and look at him. “Was that your chocolate milk on the table?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Next time, if you’re not going to finish it, put it in the refrigerator or dump it out. Don’t just leave it sitting there.”

  “You don’t have to yell at me for it.”

  “Jack.” I blow out a breath and shake my head. “I’m not yelling at you.”

  “Yes, you are. You always yell.”

  Sometimes I do, but most of the time I talk loudly because that seems to be the only way I can get the kid to hear me. “I’m not arguing with you about this. Go throw these in the trash for me.”

  He takes the wet towels and walks off. After I wipe the floor down with disinfectant and the stickiness is gone, I grab Henry and go in search of Emma, who completely disappeared on me.

  “Emma?”

  “I’m in da bafwoom.”

  Please, please, don’t let there be piss or shit on my bathroom floor.

  “What are you doing, sweetie?” I ask, poking my head into the bathroom.

  “Twying to get da gum out.” Her bright blue eyes blink up at me. Her hands are in her blond curls, and the blob of gum is now streaked down the length of her hair.

  “Oh, Emma.” How do I fix this? I can unclog any drain, fix a deck, repair a car, change the lightbulb, work on the plumbing, give baths like a boss, but I don’t know what in the world to do about this.

  Henry is probably starving. None of the kids have had supper. Emma has gum in her hair, and Jack is pissed at the world.

  I think for a second about what Lorelei would do, but quickly push the thought away. Lorelei isn’t here. She left us, and she’s not coming back. It’s just me, and right now I’m two seconds away from losing my shit and not afraid to admit I need help.

  “Change of plans. Emma, get your shoes on.”

  She hops off the stool, and I shut off the bathroom light when she walks out.

  “Jack, buddy, get your shoes on,” I holler.

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “To see Nick and Jessa. Maybe she can figure out how to get the gum out of Emma’s hair.”

  He punches the air. “Yes!”

  Emma follows behind him, equally excited, because even though he’s a jerk to her, she still thinks he hung the moon. Even Henry squeals at the sounds of their names. Jessa was Lorelei’s best friend growing up, and when she married Nick, he and I became friends.

  They’ve been a huge help with the kids, especially after everything that happened with Lorelei. They’re like family to us.

  My parents live four hours away, and we see them as often as we can. My brother is in town, and though he’s still single and a little all over the place, he helps quite a bit. Lorelei’s parents and her sister live an hour away in the city, but they’re busy with their own lives, and I feel like a burden to them.

  “I like Nick.” Jack grabs Henry’s diaper bag without me having to ask.

  If the kid would do things like that all the time, my life would be so much easier.

  “Maybe he’ll let me play his XBox.”

  “Maybe.”

  At least I did one thing right tonight. If we all come home in one piece, I’ll call today a win.

  5

  Grayson

  “Hey.” Nick opens the front door with his usual friendly smile. “You don’t look so good.”

  “It’s been a rough evening.”

  “Hey, Nick.” Jack shoulders his way past me and his sister, bumps Nick’s fist, and walks into the house like he owns the place.

  “Jack, you can’t just walk into someone’s house,” I say to his retreating form.

  “He’s fine.” Nick holds the door opens and smiles at Emma as she walks in. “Come in.”

  “I’m sorry. I would’ve called first, but I was seconds away from losing my mind.”

  “It’s not a big deal. You know how much we love seeing you and the kids. How is everybody?”

  Once inside, I set the diaper bag down. I try to put Henry down too, but he tightens his chubby legs around my waist and clings to me. “Oh, you know, screaming, crying, bad attitudes, and poopy diapers. Just another day of parenthood.”

  I’m not complaining. Really, I’m not. I love my kids more than life itself, but sometimes it’s hard doing everything on my own. There’s no one to turn to when I need to tap out for a few minutes. No one to help out with the daily tasks or talk about my day with.

  Nick’s smile falters. I know that look; it’s the same one everybody gives me when they find out I’m a single dad of three with a deadbeat ex-wife who decided drugs are more important than her offspring.

  I quickly wave him off. “It’s fine. We’re good. I’m good. I just need Jessa’s help getting gum out of Emma’s hair. And maybe a beer.”

  “I’ve got beer.” Nick claps my shoulder and nods toward the kitchen. “Have you guys eaten yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Jessa ran into town to grab some pizzas. I’ll shoot her a quick text and tell her to get a few more. What toppings do the kids like?”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s no big deal. They’re the hot-n-ready ones, so she won’t have to wait for them to be made.”

  “Pepperoni,” Jack shouts from the living room.

  Emma follows us into the kitchen and pulls at Nick’s shirt. “I wike cheese.”

  “Then cheese it is,” he says, booping her nose before sending a text to Jessa.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” I sit down at the kitchen table and prop Henry on my knee. He’s the most content baby in the world, happy to sit and stare at his surroundings while blowing spit bubbles and babbling.

  “There. Two more pizzas ordered.” Nick puts his phone in his pocket and crawls his fingers like a spider across the table toward Henry.

  Henry giggles and slaps at his hand. Nick does it again before getting up and grabbing us two beers. He pops the top
, slides one to me, and plops into a chair.

  I take a pull of my beer and move Henry to the other knee so I can see Nick better. “How’s the construction business going?” I ask, hungry for adult conversation.

  “I definitely can’t complain. Business is booming right now, and I don’t want to turn anyone away. I’m thinking about hiring a few extra hands.”

  “That’s awesome. I’m happy for you. You do great work.”

  “Thanks. How’s the car-restoration business?” he asks.

  “Good. I just got in a sweet muscle car from some rich dude in Florida. I’ll have it for at least two or three months, and then it’s on to the next project.”

  “How many restorations do you have scheduled after this one?”

  “Hundreds more. I have a wait list a mile long.”

  My dad and I restored our first car when I was ten. It was a ’67 Ford and the start of a hobby that transformed into my full-time job. Word of my meticulous work got out, and the customers started rolling in. It pays well, I get to make my own hours, and I was able to set up shop in the old machine shed beside my house, which is nice because I’m close by if Angela ever has any problems with the kids.

  “Do you ever slow down?” Nick asks.

  “What the hell will I do if I slow down?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Nick says, taking a drink of his beer. “Live life.”

  “I am living life.” One mess, argument, and Mickey Mouse song at a time.

  “Do you know what you need?”

  I tip my beer in his direction. “Something stronger than this?”

  “A date.”

  “That’s the last thing I need.” Being a single dad and running my own business is exhausting as fuck. Not to mention stressful.

  “Jessa has a friend from work—”

  “Stop right there. I’m not interested.”

  “She’s cute.”

  “I’m telling Jessa.”

  He grins. “She’ll agree with me.”

  “Come on, bro. Do you know how many women want to date a single dad of three?”

  “Stop making it sound like such a bad thing. You’re successful, you have a beautiful home, and three adorable kids. Plus, Jessa seems to think you’re handsome.”