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I never respondedto Holland's text message. The one that came at almost midnight. Not because I had anything to hide, but because I didn't want to discuss something like me sleeping with someone else in a text message.
Am I interested in any other female that doesn't have long, honey blonde hair and sea-green eyes that keep me up at night? Fuck no.
And that worries me, but it doesn't change the fact that it's true.
We just checked into our hotel in Vancouver, and right now, I've got bigger problems.
Potty training problems. I shudder at the thought. Sure, I've changed enough diapers in my lifetime with Ari and Ken, Liam's daughters, to be able to do it in the dark, drunk, with my eyes closed.
But teaching a boy to pee in the toilet... and aim? Whole different hockey puck.
"Okay, so we're going to count to three and then you just, I don't know, aim for the water?"
Evan looks at me like I've grown two heads. He's standing on a stool in front of the toilet with his pants around his ankles, and honestly, he looks as worried as I feel.
I've spent the last thirty minutes googling tips for potty training, and I've come across some strange shit. And I'm just saying, my search history sure as shit looks a lot different than it used to. Potty.com is nothing like pornhub.com.
"Pee now?" Evan asks.
"Yeah, buddy, just try and make it into the bowl."
"Bowl? Cereal?"
I groan.
This is a disaster, and I don't know if I can solve it on my own. I look down at my phone again and before I can talk myself out of it, I dial the number.
"Hello?" Holland's breathless voice comes through the phone.
"Hey, uh," I stammer, "Can you come help me with something really quick?"
"Of course, yeah. Be there in a sec." The line goes dead and I exhale. Fuck yes, I want to see Holland, but I'm also not trying to make her feel overwhelmed or have to call her for every single little thing. I'm Evan's guardian. I have to figure shit out on my own.
Except this, because I'm obviously getting fucking nowhere. I mean, I have the same parts as him, and I still can't explain it to him.
Seconds later, there's a knock at the door.
"Don't move, okay, buddy?" I say.
Evan nods, hands on his hips, pants around his ankles.
If I wasn't so distraught over failing at this whole potty-training thing, I'd laugh.
I pad through the room and open the door for Holland. She smiles, but it quickly falls when she sees the look on my face.
"What's wrong? Is Evan okay?" Her words come out in a rush. She goes from happy to panicked so quickly that I pull her by her hand into the room.
"No, he's fine, I'm having a crisis."
I lead her into the bathroom to Evan, who's still waiting patiently on the stool.
Her eyes dart from me to him, then back. "Uh? Okay? So... we're pottying?" She laughs.
"Well, that's the plan, but he won't. He just keeps looking at me like I've lost my mind."
Holland is quiet for a few seconds, and then she tosses her head back and laughs. So loud that it echoes off the wall in the bathroom and causes Evan to laugh with her.
