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I grind my teeth; I swear he’s being difficult on purpose. He already decided he would not enjoy having them and now he’s just nit picking.
“Oscar. Get the boys a drink,” I snap back at him, and his narrowed eyes widen before he turns on his heels and stalks toward the kitchen. “Their cuppies are on the counter,” I add.
His grumbling voice filters over to us. “Cuppies. It’s a fucking cup. Call it what it fucking is. A cup.”
Seb sweeps his hands through the blocks, sending them tumbling to the floor with an echo, and Oscar jolts. Seb cheers in delight, and I laugh at his excitement. I just wish Oscar could find the pleasure in them too. Seb turns his attention to the markers Sam is pulling out of the toy bag. He tugs the lid off the marker while grinning, then turns away from me as Oscar lowers a tray of drinks onto the dining table and pulls out a chair to sit down. I shake my head over him insisting the kids use the table for their drinks. Ridiculous.
“Fiiiiiish.” Seb points toward the fish tank, and I inwardly cringe when he lifts his marker toward the glass.
“Paige!” Oscar darts up from his chair, but luckily, I snag a giggling Seb into my arms, leaving only one markup on the tank.
“They’re not to touch the fish tank. I don’t want their grabby little hands anywhere near my tank, I refuse it.” Oscar tugs on his hair, and for the first time today, I wonder if this is a good idea. “Jesus, there’s even fingerprints.” He exhales like it’s the end of the world.
A loud clatter reverberates through the room, and Oscar’s face reddens and his wide eyes lock onto the kitchen. “I don’t like noise, Paige!” He turns, glaring at me as though it’s my fault.
While we were momentarily distracted, Sam found his way into a kitchen cupboard and is now sitting with a pan among a spilled bag of flour.
“A-oh!” Seb declares as I drop my gaze to the toddler at my feet. His hands point toward Sam, but his face makes me swallow hard.
“Please tell me Bren and Sky did not give him permanent markers,” Oscar balks. “He looks like a fucking minion.”
I giggle at his analogy. Seb’s face is covered in yellow marker, and he proceeds to shove the pen into his mouth, and Oscar’s mouth falls open in horror.
“Jesus, he even eats pens.” He glares up toward the ceiling while pinching the bridge of his nose, reminding me of his brother Cal.
I gift him with a swift elbow to his stomach while gently coaxing the pen from Seb’s fingers. The banging of pans against the tiled floor has Oscar’s eyes closing and his chest rising.
“I’m in literal hell and nobody cares.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from my chest and transcends into a fit of giggles. His eyes flare open, fire burning behind them, and his chest heaves as his jaw clamps sharply.
“I’m staying upstairs. I never agreed to this... this... this fucking zoo.”
“Oscar,” I try to reason.
“Ossss, poooopy.”
Oscar’s pupils widen, then his lip curls up in disgust when the scent of Seb’s diaper fills the room. “No. Absolutely fucking not. I’m out.”
Oscar storms from the room, leaving me to deal with two toddlers and a baby pushing on my bladder. My shoulders fall in disappointment. What I thought would be some lighthearted babysitting to give us a little experience, has turned into chaos.
I lift Seb into my arms and make my way over toward Sam. How the hell does Sky cope with two and another on the way. Pushing my shoulders back, I tell myself I’ve got this.
Even if it is alone.
SIX
OSCAR
Idrag my finger over my lip as I try and calculate Paige’s next move. Why the hell she didn’t think to put the sheet higher so she doesn’t have to crawl into the entrance of the makeshift castle is beyond me.
I’ve been watching her try and build the fabric of mess for so long my ass is numb, but still, I sit mesmerized by her beauty and patience. You wouldn’t know it’s even meant to be a castle looking at it, but when she sat stroking the boy’s hair while readingPussy and the Castle, I assumed she would try and replicate it.
The book was designed and created by my nephew Reece based on his cat, Pussy. The boys are naturally enthralled by the stupidity.
When I came up to Cal’s old apartment, I hadn’t intended on watching over them, but I needed to ensure Paige and our son are okay. She’s thirty-five weeks pregnant, and I refuse to be too far away from her as I have a feeling she will give birth earlier than expected, given her latest vitals.
I have our family doctor, Mr. Yates, on standby, and I will deliver our son into the world.
