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“After Mommy leaves, you still don’t tell Daddio that I was here, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered back, and then like a little genius, he ran back the way he came and called out, “Come on, Lia! Follow me!”
Moments later, their giggles and Thatch’s voice were back in the playroom, and I officially had the green light for the getaway.
God, my kid was the fluffing best.
Obviously, he gets his pranking abilities from me.
“Okay, guys. What do you want for lunch today?” I asked, edging on exhausted from chasing two little track stars around the house. These kids had endless energy, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was going to be closing in on forty soon. Thankfully, much like it did for me, food worked fairly effectively as a distraction.
“What’ve ya got?” Ace asked, climbing up onto the stool in front of the counter and assisting Julia as she did the same.
See? I’m not raising a complete animal. He’s just got a few wild tendencies, which, considering his parents, is to be expected. But he’s also a gentleman. Kline’s girls could do worse.
Evie had been sleeping beautifully for the last hour and a half even as we yelled and caroused, the little angel. I made a mental note to check on her just as soon as I rustled up some food for the older hellions.
“Well, sir, today we’ve got a fine selection of turkey and cheese sandwiches, mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, and one of the most popular items on our menu this season, the cheese quesadilla,” I listed playfully, merely a servant to my young masters.
“Queso-deea!” Julia shouted enthusiastically.
“All right!” I cheered. “We’ve got a winner for the lady. And for you, sir?” I asked Ace.
“Make mine with extra cheese.”
“Ahh, yes. A fine choice, sir.”
Julia giggled at my theatrics, her little blond curls bouncing as she did.
I grinned as Ace looked at her with wonder. Ah, young love. My son, the romantic.
“Lia, let’s go get naked again!” he yelled suddenly.
Oh Christ!
“No. No, no, no,” I repeated. “What did Daddio say about showing each other your special parts?”
“Not to do it,” the two of them muttered dejectedly at once.
“That’s right. Don’t do it.” After that, though, I couldn’t come up with anything else to say.
Fuck, maybe I really wasn’t the best person for this kind of shit. I loved special parts, and coming up with reasons not to look at them wasn’t exactly my forte.
The two of them got over it pretty quickly, though, thanks to the short rebound time with which three- and four-year-olds were equipped, so I listened intently with a smile on my face as I sprinkled heaps of cheese on top of a couple of tortillas and then pressed a second one on the tops. I smashed them together and then popped them into the microwave to heat them up.
I took out my phone as they did their thing and shot Cassie a quick text.
Thatch: How’s work?
She answered quickly but succinctly.
Cassie: Good. How are the kids?
Thatch: Good.
Cassie: Good.
Okay, that was weird.
The timer on the microwave dinged its song and dance, so I tossed my phone back on the counter and pulled out the plate with their entrees.
“Ma’am,” I said as I set Julia’s down in front of her. She smiled, bending her ear to her shoulder and giggling up at me.
“Kind sir,” I offered as I set Ace’s down in front of him.
They dove in nearly immediately.
“You guys okay while I go check on Evie?” I asked.
Julia nodded. Ace glanced to her first with wide eyes before looking back at me and nodding.
“Okay. Be right back.”
I strolled down the hall at a brisk pace until I neared the nursery, where I slowed down and tiptoed so that I wouldn’t disturb her if she was still sleeping. She’d yet to make a peep on the monitor, but from what I remembered Kline saying, she wasn’t known for napping for much more than an hour or two at a clip.
Ever so slowly, I pushed the door open, a sliver of light cutting its way through the otherwise dark room, and stepped inside until the plush carpet pushed up through my bare toes. Each step was calculated and painstaking as I gave my eyes time to adjust to the change in lighting and got close to the bed.
Only, when I finally got there, a cat jumped out and hissed, scaring the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“Oh my God!” I shouted before forcing my voice back to a passionate whisper. “Jesus fluffing Christ, you are the devil,” I told Walter as he paced a line in front of the crib to hold me back.
This fluffing cat was a lunatic.
“I’m just trying to check on her. You and your bang buddy can rela—”
Oh, fuck.
Back and forth, my eyes searched the room like ping-pong balls.
Where the fuck was the dog?
“What happened to he doesn’t leave her goddamn side?” I whispered desperately, scanning the room once more.
“Oh, sweet Jesus. Not another missing pet,” I cried softly, continuing to keep my voice low for two reasons. One, the baby was still sleeping through this mania, and two, Walter was on the fucking rails, and he seemed to raise his hackles more when I raised my voice.
At least you didn’t lose his kid, I comforted myself.
Still. Stan was practically Kline’s only ally in that house.
Dropping to my knees, I pulled up the unnecessary ruffle on the bottom of the crib and searched the rug underneath for evidence of a motherfucking horse. Nothing looked different from before, but to be honest, I didn’t spend a whole hell of a lot of time on my knees in the nursery of our unborn child, and there wasn’t much fluffing chance Stan would have been able to contort his limbs to get under there anyway.
Quick as a cat, I jumped back to my feet and moved from side to side, peeking around furniture and pulling it away from the wall carefully until I’d checked every piece.
No Stan.
Think, think, think, I coached myself. Remain fucking calm.
Spotting some stuffed animals in the corner, I charged forward and dove to my knees to pluck through them one animal at a time.
Elephant.
Lion.
Tiger.
Gazelle.
Fucking shit. Where are we? Africa?
One by one, I tossed the safari haphazardly over my shoulder until the corner was completely empty. No fucking dog. Not even a stuffed one!
“Ohhh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“FUCK!” Ace yelled immediately, taking pride in following in his father’s footsteps, as per usual, and alerting me to their presence. Julia giggled. I, however, put my hands to my face to catch the tears I knew were coming. Forget about the missing dog, Cassie was going to kill me for teaching Ace the real F word.
Of course, don’t actually forget about the missing dog. That’s pretty fucking important.
“Ace, buddy, don’t say that word.”
“FUCK!”
Okay. Fine. I had much more immediate problems. Cassie killing me wouldn’t happen for at least another four or five hours, but the longer Stan was missing, the harder it would be for me to find him. I’ve watched 48 Hours. I knew how crucial these first moments were. “Listen, guys. I need you to help me. Stan’s playing hide-and-seek, and I know the two of you are the best seekers out there.”
Truthfully, Ace sucked fucking donkey balls at hide-and-seek. But I was hoping he’d improved exponentially overnight. Either that, or Julia was a hell of a lot better at playground games than my son and she would lead him around by the dick like only a woman could.
“Yay!” Julia cheered. “I love hide-and-seek!”
“Good.” Fucking fantastic. “Okay, I need you guys to fan out and start looking for Stan.”
“But we didn’t count, Dude,” Ace pointed out soundly.
Dude, we don’t have time to fucking count!
I nearly came out of my skin.
“Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten, GO!” I shouted on a rush.
They both bolted, running through the house like little maniacs. I searched the nursery once more, but when I came up empty, I went straight to the front door, the back door, the side door, and the windows. Locked. Every last one of them. And the last time I checked, dogs didn’t have opposable thumbs. He had to be in the goddamn house.
“Okay, Thatch,” I coached myself. “Just calm down. He probably just went for a little stroll, but he’s in this house.” Probably pissing all over everything you hold dear. “You’ve been here the whole time, and all of the doors are locked. Just relax and think like a huge motherfluffer of a dog. Where would you go?”
Fuck.
“Okay, don’t think like an actual dog because their reasoning isn’t fully developed to human cognition, but think like a thirty-eight-year-old thinking of where a dog would be.”
Yeah, that was better.
Immediately, I dropped to my knees, closer to his level, and set out to scour this place inch by inch.
I would not be the one to lose Kline and Georgia’s dog and Walter’s only barrier against straight-out devil worship.
Not today, Satan, not today.
One interesting drive, a pit stop at a gas station to find bladder relief, and three sticks of beef jerky for Stan later, we found ourselves sitting outside of a little coffee shop just on the outer rim of Chelsea. Unloading and loading a huge motherfluffer of a dog into a vehicle wasn’t something I was used to, and I could still taste a tinge of his testicles on my tongue. And no, I’m not referring to any kind of kinky, bestiality situation. It was more, I turned my face one inch too far to the right during removal of a horse from my vehicle and found myself officially teabagged by a canine.
