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“Oliver! Cut it out. I’m trying to find the movieyouwant to watch. You need to be patient so I can find this stupid thing.” Immediately, I know I fucked up. Oliver’s bottom lip starts to tremble, and his eyes fill with tears. I drop the remote from my hands and reach for him but I’m not fast enough.
“Oliver, wait…” but he runs right past me down the hall where I can hear a door slam.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I knew I wasn’t cut out for this and now I’ve hurt his feelings. Maybe I should call Violet over so she can fix this, she did offer to help if I needed anything. I pull out my phone and am about to call her when I decide that I made this mess so I’m the one that needs to clean it up.
I genuinely feel awful. He was just being so impatient he got on my nerves, but that’s not his fault, he’s a kid. I can’t expecthim to act like a little adult and sit there quietly for ten minutes while I mess with the television, can I?
I head through the hallway to the rear of the house. The first door I open looks like it’s some kind of playroom for him. There are plenty of toys—all put away far too neatly for a five-year-old, but there’s no bed, and definitely no Oliver. The bathroom across the hall is also empty. The only two doors left are the one at the end of the hallway that I assume belongs to Carson and one to my left that’s closed.
I knock on the closed door and gently call out, “Oliver?” He doesn’t answer but I can hear him sniffling inside. This might be the first time I actually feel my heart break a little. How on earth did this child become so important to me, more than I ever thought one could, in such a short amount of time? I’m more determined than ever to fix this. “Oliver, I’m coming in.” I warn him.
I slowly push the door open, and it takes me a few seconds to see him huddled into a ball in the corner, facing the wall. If I thought I felt awful before, I was wrong. This is much worse.
“I’m really sorry, Oliver.” He just goes on ignoring me, sniffling every once in a while. I’m not sure what to say or do but I know I’m not leaving this room until I fix this. Taking a seat cross legged on the floor I ask, “Can we talk for a few minutes? I promise I won’t say anything mean.”
He turns his little body towards me, and I see tears streaking down his cheeks and my own eyes fill with moisture. “Can I tell you something about me?” He nods in answer, not meeting my eyes and since that’s as good as I’m going to get right now, I soldier on. “I’m not good with kids. In fact, I don’t even know any. You’re the only friend I have that’s a kid.”
“You’re my friend?” He asks hesitantly, finally looks up at me.
“Of course I am. At least, I hope you’ll still be my friend.” He looks away again and I let out a sigh. “Since I don’t know any kids, I don’t always know what to say or do. I’m not good at this. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t?”
“Of course not, Oliver. I was the one who did something wrong. Hanging out with someone your age is all new to me and I’m not always going to know what to say or how to act. I’ve never even met a kid I liked before, but you’re really cool and I would be so sad if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“You think I’m cool?” There’s a little hopeful tone in his voice that makes me think I might be getting through to him.
“Are you kidding me? You’re the coolest! Do you think we can still be friends?”
He uses his little fist and wipes the tears off his face. “Yeah, we can be friends.”
“Good. And since you’re my friend do you think you can be patient with me sometimes? I might do or say the wrong thing, but I’m trying to learn. If I mess up, will you tell me? You’re smart and the only one that can help me with this, and I really do need the help, don’t I?”
He nods his head looking solemn. “Yeah, you do.”
I suppress a laugh. “Do you think I can have a hug?” I open up my arms and he crawls straight into my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. I squeeze him tightly and talk into his hair that smells like baby shampoo, “I’m so sorry. I was scared you’d never forgive me.”
“I forgive you. Sometimes grown-ups mess up. That’s what Dad tells me.”
“Well, it sounds like your dad is very smart,” I say begrudgingly. I guess there’s no harm complimenting Carsonwhen he can’t hear me. “Now how about we go into the living room, and you help me find that movie you want to watch?”
“Can I sit in your lap?”
“I would totally be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Once we get back to the abandoned television, I sit on the couch and hand Oliver the remote. He finds the movie it took me ten minutesnotto find in fifteen seconds flat. In my defense, apparently he was sayingRatautouillenotRatooey. But who am I to give him a hard time? I still can’t say Worcestershire.
We start the movie, and he climbs into my lap, resting his head against my chest and I feel surprisingly content. I’m usually itching to do something, go out and party, paint, drink with my girlfriends. I fill my life with a lot of things but there’s nothing I’d rather do right now than hold this little boy on my lap and watch this silly movie. It’s a strange, but not entirely unwelcome feeling.
Within twenty minutes Oliver’s breathing has evened out and he’s fast asleep. I slowly pick him up, careful not to wake him, and carry him into his bedroom, placing him on the bed and covering him with his blanket. I straighten up to walk out but as an afterthought bend down and plant a quick kiss on his forehead.
I know we didn’t do his bedtime routine like Carson wanted but he’s just going to have to deal with it. I already made that little boy cry tonight, I’m not going to stand over him and demand he brush his teeth. Besides, I’m the friend, not the parent. That’s Carson’s problem.
Once I’m back in the living room I give a little chuckle and rush over to the perfectly color coordinated bookcase. I grab a book from the second shelf that’s navy blue and quickly switch it with a yellow spined book closer to the bottom. I smile to myself and wonder how long it will take him to notice. I couldn’t help it,it’s just too damn organized, and Carson could use a little chaos in his life.
I dim the living room lights and let the movie keep playing while I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the couch. It’s not exactly comfortable laying here fully dressed in jeans. For a brief second, I consider laying down in Carson’s bed but decide that would be playing with fire. I don’t know how I feel about sleeping with someone who lives next door to me. Not being able to ghost him after our time is up seems like a bad idea. Plus, once Carson and I ended our little hook-up situation I wouldn’t be able to see Oliver again and I don’t know if I’m okay with that. I didn’t lie to the kid. I really do like him and consider him my friend.
