Page 3 of Tank
“Is it so wrong for a mother to want her son to find a good woman to take care of him?” she asked with complete dismay in her voice.
“Why?” I joked. “You and I both know that there isn’t a woman out there who could do it as well as you.” That was true, too. No one could ever take care of me better than my mom.
I grew up with one hell of a woman at the wheel. She was always the backbone of the family. Strict and always ran a tight ship. Dinner was always on the table at six and your ass better be in your seat by the time the clock rolled over to the hour. Homework was always done before we ate and bedtime was always the same time every night. She kept a schedule even when we weren’t in school, believing that balance was the key to life, and with four kids, you had to have some sort of order.
And heaven forbid you ever did something you weren’t supposed to. Mom never raised her hand to any of us and she never uttered the words ‘I’m calling your father.’ No, because she had her own brand of punishment. Whether it was having to scrub down the walls, or clean all the bathrooms in the clubhouse, or mow every lawn on the street it always came with the heavy feeling of disappointment. Because there wasn’t a worse thing you could do than disappoint your mother.
But even with the strictness of it all, she was still fun and caring. She was loving and amazing in so many ways. Birthdays were always over the top and not in a gifts sort of way. Growing up, I learned that love and family were the greatest treasures. So, while I didn’t get every toy or whatever I wanted, I always had a huge party at the clubhouse where there was any kind of food I could ever want and a yard full of people who treated me like I was their own blood, despite the fact that I wasn’t.
I had a pretty great childhood. It wasn’t easy by any kind of means, but I think it made me turn out to be a decent man. And that was what I was trying to give my son. I thought I was doing a pretty good job despite the hand I’d been dealt.
“I gotta go get Logan and get him cleaned up before we head over to D’s,” I said tossing my arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too. But that doesn’t mean I will stop.” She cocked a brow at me and pinned me with a hard stare.
“I know. I’d expect nothing less,” I said with a deep laugh as I made my way back out of the house.
“Give that little baby kisses for me,” she hollered out before the screen door shut behind me.
“You can adopt Fate and get over your grandbaby fever,” I said, knowing she was standing at the screen door making sure I got to my truck okay. Like something might happen to me in those few steps. I tossed my hand up in a lazy wave as I backed out of the driveway.
Getting Grass to leave the park was a fuck of a lot easier than giving him a bath and getting him dressed and ready to go. I had hoped that playing outside would have worn him out a bit, but no such fucking luck.
He was currently tossing out everything in his shirt drawer trying to find a particular shirt. One that he swore he had, but I couldn’t recall at the moment.
“Maybe it’s at grandma’s,” I said trying to get him off the set path he was on. “How about this one?” I held up the shirt that had been his favorite last week and by the scrunched up nose and pinched lips, I could tell it wasn’t going to work right then.
Taking in a deep calming breath, so slow that he wouldn’t notice, I moved to help him clear out the rest of his drawer. And as I suspected, whatever he was looking for wasn’t in there, because I was pretty sure that shirt didn’t even exist. But you couldn’t tell a five-year-old that.
“Dad, I have to look nice,” he said with all seriousness as I held up another shirt that had a picture of a ninja on it.
Whatever that meant I didn’t understand. The shirt was clean and didn’t have any holes in it, so to me, it was good enough. I looked down at my worn, black tee and wondered if I should change. But then again, my wardrobe consisted of more shirts just like the one I was wearing. Okay, and a few plaid flannels because sometimes it got chilly but not cold enough for a jacket.
That was the moment that my mom’s words hit me. I won’t lie, there were moments I wondered if I could do the single dad thing. But figuring that I had no choice in the matter, I made it work. I did the best I could. I’d never questioned if it was everything he needed until then. However, it wasn’t enough for me to ever want to entertain the idea of letting another woman close enough to fuck up our lives again.
“I guess I’ll just wear this,” he said letting out a resigned sigh. I had to chuckle at that. Sometimes he seemed so grown-up. He slipped on the not-good-enough shirt while I dug through to find some jeans and prayed like hell that they were the right ones. “Thanks, dad.” He gave me a tiny smile as he took the pants out of my hands. Cute as fuck that kid was.
“No problem, buddy,” I said as I stood and ruffled his mop of huge curls.
When I looked at him all I saw was myself. I thanked God for that. He was like a mini-me with his solid build and steel eyes. Even the light brown hair with honeyed highlights was exactly like mine. The only thing that I could tell he got from his mother was the slightly lighter tint to his skin and the few freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose.
“You think Fate will be awake when we get there? You think Auntie Ellie will let me hold her?” he asked taking my hand as we stepped off the porch and started walking up the road to Diesel and Ellie’s house.
I had no idea what it was about that baby, but since the moment she was born he had this need to always make sure she was alright. I was a little nervous the first time he held her, she wasn’t even a week old, but Ellie assured me he’d be fine. And I’ll be damned if he wasn’t because the moment he sat down on that couch and Ellie placed Fate in his arms, he was the calmest I’d ever fucking seen him. He was like that every time with her. I half-joked to Diesel all the time about putting one of those baby front packs on Grass and letting him carry her around everywhere just to keep him from getting into shit.
In the back of my mind, I was terrified he would ask me for a baby sister, or brother. That was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have because I knew I’d have to disappoint him with my answer.
