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“Oh, no, buddy, I was having a dream.”
He nodded and twisted his lips around. “Is you getting up?”
“Yeah. Let me grab a quick shower and get dressed and then we’ll head over to Miranda’s.”
“Okay.” He smiled and ran from my room.
That was close. Too close. Sighing, I threw back my blanket and got out of bed to get ready for the day.
I really hope this isn’t a sign of how my day’s gonna go.
Dillon was wound for sound this morning. The kid dressed himself and sat at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me.
“Can we go to my brudder and Randa’s now?”
“We need to go out to the garage.” I motioned with my head.
“I gots to gib dis to her.” He held up a drawing of something with black eyes, and I think a tail.
“I need to grab my travel cup.”
In my haste moving through the kitchen, I wanged my head on the cabinet door when I whipped it open.
“Yous silly, Daddy!” Dillon giggled while I bit my lip to keep from swearing. At the rate I’d been going I was relatively sure I had his first year of college paid for.
“Yeah. I’m silly.” I gritted through my teeth, and then we went out the back door.
Running out the door, I tripped on a tricycle and went sprawling out, scraping my elbows and hands, while my leg twisted in the small toy. “Fuck!”
“Swear jar, Daddy.” Dillon stood there calmly while every joint in my body screamed.
Blowing out a hard breath, I worked on freeing myself so I could stand. “I’ll get on that.”
After a frustrating few minutes, I was back on my feet and we made it to the garage and into the truck. I lifted him into the cab.
“Where’s my seat?” Dillon looked around the cab, confused.
“We’re just going next door.”
He seemed placated by that, and I pulled out and drove to Miranda’s. Her dogs were in the yard and barked at us as I drove up to the house.
I had put the truck into park and the boy opened the passenger door, jumping out to greet the dogs.
“Dillon! Wait!” I joined him and the back door opened with a disheveled Miranda standing there.
Her red hair was a mess, and she wore a teeny tiny tank top with matching sleep shorts.
“Hey guys.” She yawned.
“I made you dis.” Dillon dropped his backpack and pulled out his art.
“Awww, is this for me?” She smiled at him.
He nodded. “It’s Soda!”
“This is a fabulous drawing of Soda.” She stepped back. “Come on in and help me decide where to hang it.”
Dillon followed her, and I didn’t want to stand outside like a dick, so I did too.
