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“Heck yes. I can’t wait to see my new face when you’re done with it.”
She jumps up and down as I walk toward the kitchen, spending time making them a snack—because I know they’re going to want to eat as soon as we get there—and then packing the diaper bag and helping them into their shoes. An hour later we are out the door and meandering toward the park, which is just down the street. I’ve slathered sunscreen on myself because if I don’t, I will burn like a house on fire. My red hair and freckled skin make for a sad combination. I look as red as an autumn apple after spending any amount of time outside.
Luckily, these kids have their dad’s skin tone. A nice olive that doesn’t burn easy. Must be nice.
“Jordan, don’t eat the bark!” I shout when I see my nephew placing a piece in his mouth. I swear, these kids. They want to chew on everything. Like animals do. And he’s eight. Why is he doing this still?
He smiles at me with his missing front teeth and then spits it out, a piece of grass stuck to his chin. I glance down at Charlie who is strapped to my chest and babbling happily.
“Your brother is crazy,” I say and he smiles up at me, drool puddling on his chin. “Yes, he is. Why does he want to eat bark and grass? Can you tell me that? Is he a giraffe? A zoo animal? Hm?”
Charlie grabs on to my nose, and I wiggle it out of his strong grip before turning my gaze toward Julia who is swinging on the swings.
“Come push me, Uncle Jude!” Her little legs are pumping furiously, but she’s going nowhere, just wiggling in her seat more than anything.
I move toward her and with one hand, rock the swing back and forth, pushing her so high that she squeals in delight. Charlie coos and Jordan shouts from his place on top of the slide. And for a moment, I forget all about my problems, about my need for a dick in my mouth, and I am just present with them. I never really wanted to be a dad, but I can see it now. Having kids of my own. Having someone to come home to.
Someone. Anyone.
Never really had that before.
The only problem is, I can’t quite see myself with any particular woman. There was one girl from college, Cassidy, who I was interested in. She lit a spark inside of me that made me feel equal parts relieved and excited, but just as soon as it sparked, it disappeared. It fizzled out like a sad birthday candle.
I think I’m broken. There’s a part of me that isn’t quite aligned, it’s wobbly. But those worries disappear when I’m around these kids. They make me focus on something…someone other than myself. They make me remember the good parts of life.
Them. They are the good parts.
I can’t ever lose them.
“This is the best day of my life!” Jordan exclaims as he sits on the swing next to his sister and laughs in delight as I push him as high as I can. And for a moment, I think that I can’t be broken, that these kids love me even if I don’t quite love myself.
And that thought anchors me until we get back to their house.
Julia and Jordan paint my nails as I lie on the ground and each take turns slathering makeup on my face because I can’t tell them no, not when they’re so excited about it. When I see my reflection in the window, I cringe, my cheeks bright pink, my eyelids covered in blue and purple eyeshadow, my lips looking a bit like the Joker’s.
“You look so pretty,” Julia says, and Jordan bobs his head.
“You look like a clown.”
I snort a laugh while leaning back and placing Charlie on my stomach. His little body squirms as he grabs on to my shirt and pulls.
“Do you like how I look, little dude?”
He babbles a resoundingno, and I lift him into the air. A blob of drool escapes his toothless mouth and lands on my neck, but I just let it go.
I don’t mind the baby goo. I’m currently an utter wreck, and before I go out tonight, I’ll have to shower and change anyways.
What’s a little baby drool amidst all of this fabulousness?
A few hours later, when my sister returns, the relaxed look she’s wearing on her face disappears once she sees me. Or maybe it’s the kids that bring the strain to her mouth and eyes.
Fuck. Why the hell did she ever have kids?
Why did she spend all that time raising me when our mom died and our dad left?
“What did you do to yourself?” she asks, taking in my blue eyelids and pink nails. The lipstick faded over the last two hours and lingers mostly on my chin.
I feel my heart rate double as those words fall from her mouth. “Julia and Jordan had fun. Don’t make this more than it is.”
