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“Thank you for watching me tonight.”
I give him a smile, he really is cute. “Of course. We’re going to have fun. Look what I brought.” I gesture to the pile of things on the table and his eyes go wide.
He immediately moves over to it, trying to pull out a tube of paint. “Buddy, you need to wait until after dinner, alright?Bianca is going to order for you guys and it should be here soon.” His little face turns into a pout but he nods and goes into the living room, sitting down with his truck.
Carson turns his attention back to me and for the first time I notice he looks a little stressed. There are circles under his eyes and the smattering of lines he has in the corners seem more pronounced today. “I’m sorry I’m not going to be home until late. I plan on getting here at around two a.m. but you never know, that can always change. Feel free to sleep on the couch, I left a blanket on it for you. You’re also more than welcome to sleep in my bed. The sheets are clean and everything so it’s ready for you.”
Even though the thought of lying in Carson’s bed makes my stomach do little flip-flops and my heart race, I think it’d be best to stay far far away from anything that has to do with his bedroom. “The couch will be fine, thanks.”
He absentmindedly moves to the front door where there’s a little safe sitting on the entry table I didn’t notice before. He quickly enters in a combination and it opens with a click. He pulls out a big shiny black gun, handcuffs, and a badge. He swiftly attaches everything to his belt and I’m not going to lie, cop Carson is hot. My mind drifts to all the things we could do with those cuffs before I can stop myself.
Bad Bianca. We are not interested in that type of thing.
He’s about to leave but stops and turns back to me. “Just please make sure all the doors and windows are locked the entire time, and don’t let him play in the backyard. That’s all I ask tonight.”
It looks like someone is being a little overprotective but then I remember Oliver and his watch/tracking device and how he schooled me about the dangers out there for kids and understand where he’s coming from. “Okay, no problem. I’ll lock this place down like Fort Knox.”
Kissing Oliver on the head he heads out the front door with a “Thanks again, Bianca,” but I just wave away his thanks and tell him to have a good night at work.
Once the door closes behind him I go over and make sure to lock the bottom as well as the deadbolt. Then it’s just Oliver and me. Staring at each other. “Soo…” I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing right now. Then I remember Carson said to order dinner.
“Should we get something to eat?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, let’s see what he’s written down here.” I scan the paper and the restaurant he says to order from is one I’ve never heard of before. “Do you like burritos? Because that’s what he’s written down for you.”
I’m surprised when Oliver doesn’t look enthusiastic about the prospect of a burrito. “They’re alright, I guess,” he says while fidgeting and looking down at his feet.
Hmm. I pull up the menu for the restaurant on my phone. “Let me check what kind of burritos they have. It looks like there’s only one and it’s made with a dehydrated green pea tortilla, cultured beans, and macadamia cheese? What the hell is macadamia cheese? You guys eat this?” I’m not going to lie, it sounds disgusting. No wonder he doesn’t seem enthused about dinner.
“I don’t know, the ones Dad get taste weird. They’re not like the ones Mom gave me.” I’m not going to touch the mom issue with a ten-foot pole, especially since I have no idea what happened to her. I turn back to my phone, scanning the entire menu this time and don’t see anything I’m even tempted to try. There’s just no way. If I won’t eat this crap, I’m certainly not making Oliver eat it.
“I’ll tell you what, if you can keep a secret, I’ll order us a pepperoni pizza. How does that sound?”
He eyes me like maybe I’m trying to trick him. “With cauliflower crust?”
I can’t help but blanch at the thought of ruining my pizza with cauliflower. “No way, regular carb-filled bread crust for us.”
He gives me a wide toothy grin that I return. It only takes me a couple minutes to order from the place down the street. “What should we do while we wait?
“Can we play with the stuff you brought?”
“Come over here, let me show you.” We sit at the kitchen table and slowly sort through the pastels, charcoal pencils, paints, and anything else I could grab from home.
“What’s that?” Oliver asks while reaching for a medium sized tub with a handle.
“That’s modeling clay. You can use it to make stuff and once it dries it hardens and you can keep it. Do you want me to show you how it works?” He gives me an exaggerated nod and a smile. I pop open the container of clay and pull out a large chunk for each of us. I show him simple stuff like how he can roll out a snake or turn it into a ball and he loves it. He starts telling me about all the things he wants to make, and I let him have at it.
Eventually the pizza arrives and we move the clay to the side so we can stuff our faces. Even though he asks for a soda, I get him some milk because even I know you probably shouldn’t give a child caffeine or sugar before bedtime. Oliver is a relatively calm kid but if I had to chase him around all night while he was on a sugar high I might lose it.
“Oh, Oliver. My roommate, Violet, wants to know how old you are.” I tell him while taking another bite of pizza.
“What’s a roommate?”
“They’re people who live with me. I havetworoommates.”
“I have one too! Dad’s my roommate. Who are yours?”
