AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I edged closer to the glass wall, watching as Joe succumbed to Mike’s pleas and plopped down onto a beanbag. Mike immediately crawled into his lap, a stack of flashcards in hand, the game apparently set to begin.
I couldn't hear their exchange, but their expressions were telling enough. Each time Mike described a cartoon, Joe’s brow furrowed in concentration, and his eventual guess would either earn him an excited clap or a playful pout from Mike. It was endearing, to say the least, and a part of me wished to be part of such a dynamic again.
I was so engrossed in their interaction that I didn’t notice Mike’s gaze shift until his finger was pointing directly at me, a question in his eyes as he turned to Joe.
“Daddy, look!” Mike said. “It’s Uncle Hank!”
Caught off guard, I stiffened, about to retreat when Joe’s voice stopped me.
“Yup, it’s Hank,” he answered, looking towards me with a warm smile.
“Can Uncle Hank play with us, Daddy?” Mike asked, the nickname catching me off guard. It'd been a while since I'd been called that.
Joe turned to look at me, his face a question. I swallowed, my past clashing with the present. But seeing the honest enthusiasm on Mike's face, something gave way within me. The part that had longed for this interaction, for this connection, nudged me forward.
Drawing in a deep breath, I nodded, the subtle hint of a smile playing at my lips. Joe grinned, and I could see him saying something to Mike, who clapped his hands in delight.
I entered the playroom, the noise and color amplifying as the door closed behind me. Mike was a bundle of energy, bounding towards me, his tail swinging wildly with his movements. I couldn't help but chuckle, his enthusiasm infectious.
“Uncle Hank! You’re gonna play with us!” Mike declared, crawling over to his pile of flashcards, his onesie rustling against the mat.
“Seems like I am,” I admitted, meeting Joe's eyes. He patted the beanbag next to him, inviting me to sit.
Settling down, I took in my surroundings—the stuffed animals, the vibrant mats, the cartoon posters on the wall. I let the ambiance wash over me, a warmth settling within me. It felt like coming home.
“Okay, Daddy, Uncle Hank, are you ready?” Mike's voice brought me back, his eyes twinkling with excitement. I glanced at Joe who nodded, his face mirroring Mike's excitement. I found myself nodding along.
The game was simple but brought with it bursts of laughter, playful debates, and fond exasperation. For each card, Mike described a cartoon character and we tried to guess who it was. Despite my initial hesitation, I found myself getting into the spirit of the game, my competitive side coming to the fore.
Yet, every wrong answer only seemed to fuel Mike's joy, his giggles echoing around the room. The way his eyes lit up each time Joe or I missed an answer was endearing, and I suspected Joe was intentionally giving wrong answers just to hear that sound again.
Looking at Joe, I saw the affection in his eyes as he watched Mike. I was struck by the depth of their bond, the love that was so clearly present. And for a moment, I allowed myself to yearn for that connection, that bond, that sense of belonging.
“Uncle Hank, your turn!” Mike’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, his face expectant as he held out a card towards me.
I glanced at the card, taking in Mike's description, his words weaving an image that was vaguely familiar. I threw out a name, not really caring if it was right or wrong. Mike burst into a fit of giggles, shaking his head.
“No, Uncle Hank! That's not even close!” He fell back onto the mat, his laughter infectious. I found myself laughing along, the sound mixing with Joe's deep chuckles. It was a sound I hadn't realized I had missed until that moment.
“Uncle Hank, you're so bad at this! How do you not know SpongeBob?”
“It's been a while since I've watched cartoons, Mike. Back in my day, we had Yogi Bear and Bugs Bunny.”
We were lost in the euphoria of the game, the room filled with Mike's infectious laughter and our shared camaraderie, when the mood shifted unexpectedly. Mike, still cradled in Joe's arms, turned his big eyes on me, a hint of confusion shadowing his previous exuberance.
“Uncle Hank, why did you go away for so long?” His voice, soft and innocent, rippled through the room.
I felt my heart clench at the question, the past hurt surfacing like a well-remembered ache. My throat tightened, and my voice deserted me. I felt myself transported back to that fateful day, to the harsh sting of heartbreak and the numbness that followed. Bianca's image flashed in front of me, and the pain hit me all over again.
“Mike...” I began, my voice shaky, but my mind was racing, struggling to find the right words.
Before I could continue, Joe's stern voice cut through the air. “Mike, it's not nice to ask personal questions.” He gave Mike's bottom a soft pinch, a light reprimand that had the Little squirming in his lap.
“But Daddy...” Mike started to protest as he wiggled in Joe’s lap, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. It was clear he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.
“It's okay, Mike,” I said, managing to gather my scattered composure. “Some things are just difficult to talk about.” I tried to offer him a reassuring smile, though I wasn’t sure it reached my eyes.
Joe shot me a sympathetic look, his hand soothingly rubbing Mike's back. “Mike, everyone has things they don't want to share, and that's okay. It's important to respect that.”
