Page 89 of Worth the Heat
My sweet and affectionate son crawled at five months, walked at eight months, and scaled the kitchen counters before his first birthday. He mastered riding a two-wheel bicycle on his third birthday, and has absolutely no fear about heights, speeds, or anything that normal children worry about.
My mother-in-law tells me Nico is exactly like Sebastian, which is only mildly infuriating.
“Naranja? Nico is on the roof again.”
As I’m kneading dough to make dinner rolls, I shout back. “That’s your DNA, Sebastian. You deal with it!”
I smile when I hear Sebastian’s loud laughter, but he doesn’t disagree with me. My brothers were wild, but even my parents say Nico takes it up a notch.
While Nico was a pleasant surprise, my pregnancy definitely threw a minor kink in our overall plans. With Sebastian owning two bars, he made the tough decision to hand over the reins of his original location, choosing instead to work from the Eternity Springs bar. Pregnancy did a number on my body, and I was forced to hire a store manager to oversee much of the bakery’s day-to-day operations. Ava helped out when she could, but I was clear that I wanted her to focus her time on her college classes.
I’ve never been one to complain about the early morning wake-up that comes with owning a bakery, but pregnancy was alevel of exhaustion I could not fight. I was either at work or asleep, and sometimes both simultaneously.
The hormones were ridiculous. Why did I need to have cystic acne cover my back? Hair on my chest? My nose grew like some fucked up version of Pinocchio. And the mood swings? Astronomically bad. It’s a wonder Sebastian put up with me, patiently rubbing my back and giving me foot massages.
But worst of all was the fact that the concept of “morning” sickness was lost on me, as I had nonstop nausea. It also stayed the entire pregnancy. Needless to say, I was relieved when we found out Nico was a boy, because it meant we had a daughter and a son. Pregnancy just isn’t for me.
“Momma.” Looking over my right shoulder, I find my little boy, held tightly in his father’s arms. His normally dark skin is even darker with what appears to be a layer of mud. Nico’s beautiful face, normally a carbon copy of Sebastian’s, is in an adorable pout as he stares at me defiantly. “I mad at Daddy.”
“You’re mad at Daddy? Why?” I ask.
He harrumphs. “Cuz he said no more roof time.”
Sebastian’s lips twitch as he stifles a smile. “Why did I say you aren’t allowed on the roof anymore, Nico?”
Another harrumph as Nico crosses his arms. “Cuz it’s not safe.”
“Those weren’t the exact words I used,Mijo.”
Nico sighs. “Cuz I can’t fly.”
“That’s right,” Sebastian says with a nod. “Your feet need to be on solid ground. Or in a building with flooring beneath you. Not on a roof, where you might fall and hurt yourself.”
We have learned to be specific with Nico, who, even at the tender age of three, has figured out how to circle around our words. We now have to specifically state he needs to go to his room, get into his bed, and go to sleep. Otherwise, he’ll say weonly said to go to his room, which means he can play in there. Technically, he isn’t breaking the rules that way.
Nico’s lip trembles as his eyes dart between me and Sebastian. “I like da roof.”
“I know you do,” Sebastian coos. “But it isn’t safe, especially now that I know there are raccoons getting up there.”
“Raccoons?” I shriek in excitement. “Did you see them? Where? Can we put a camera up there? I want to see!”
“See? Mommy like dem too,” Nico snaps in frustration.
Sebastian gives me an exasperated look. “Could we cool it on how much we encourage the pipsqueak, please?”
Whoops.
I hear a commotion and see Nico slide down Sebastian’s body so he can run to me. Turning, I squat down next to him, and I’m hit with a horrendous smell. “What have you gotten into, sweetheart?”
Nico shrugs. “Dirt on da roof.”
I look up to Sebastian, and he nods. “Not dirt. I definitely need to clean the gutters, but the raccoons also appear to be using the roof as their bathroom. I believe he managed to get into both before I got to him.”
My head swivels back to my child, horror filling my blood as I realize Nico is literally covered in shit and God knows what else. “You need to take a bath right now.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
