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Matthias looks up at me and smiles, a plastic Iron Man figure in one hand and a Venom one in the other. “You save him, Jax,” he giggles.
I pick up my T-Rex and swoop him through the air, catching Iron Man in the dinosaur’s mouth and plonking them both on the sofa, which Matthias has deemed is the safety of Avengers HQ.
“Safe!” Matthias declares triumphantly, tossing Venom into our makeshift Lego volcano and throwing himself onto me.
“Hey,” I laugh as I catch him. “You have way too much energy for this time of night.”
He settles on my lap, his head against my chest. “Momma said I could stay up late to play with you,” he says. “The twins try to ruin my Avengers game.” He sighs like this is the most terrible problem in the entire world. I suppose when you’re four, it is.
“I know, little buddy. But they’re a bit younger than you, aren’t they?” I ruffle his hair. “You’re a big boy and you have to teach them to play nicely.”
Matthias and the twins love to play together, but the two year age gap is stark when it comes to any imagination play and Tomás and Dario haven’t quite grasped the concept yet.
“Are you their daddy, Jax?” he looks up at me, his eyes shining.
“No, buddy. Your papa is their daddy, isn’t he?”
“But momma said you’re their Gob-father.”
Damn, this kid is too cute. He is so bright too. He retains every bit of information he’s given and tosses it back at you at a later date when you’re least expecting it.
“Their Godfather,” I correct him. “It means I get to look out for them too, especially when your papa and nana aren’t around.”
“Oh?” he frowns, deep in thought. “Are you my Godfather too?”
“No, buddy.”
“Why not? You look after me sometimes.” He frowns and I wince. How the fuck do I explain this?
“Well, yeah, but your Uncle Philippe is your Godfather.”
“Why can’t you be?”
“Because your mom asked your uncle to be.”
“Why didn’t she ask you?” he looks at me, all wide-eyed and innocent. How do I tell him that I hoped she’d ask me and was a little hurt when she didn’t?
“She chose your Uncle Philippe because he loves you very much.”
“I want you to be my Godfather, too,” he declares as he presses his cheek against my chest.
I look down at his dark hair and wrap an arm around him. I don’t even know how to argue with that.
“Momma says my daddy is in heaven,” he says matter-of-factly and I shake my head.
Do kids ever stop talking? I don’t argue and tell him that I’m sure that his father has his very own place in hell.
“But maybe I’ll get another one some day? My momma got a new daddy. And so did my friend Luna. Her momma found her a new daddy and they got a puppy too.”
“She did, huh?”
“I don’t want a puppy though. I’m scared of dogs,” he insists.
“You are?” I look down at him. I’ve never known this kid afraid of anything. He is fearless like his mom.
“Yeah. A big one stole my ice cream in the park. Momma chased him away and the man told Momma he’d buy me a new ice cream.”
“Well, that was kind of him after his dog stole yours.”
