//3// How’d You Like To Be Alone And Drowning

Small hands shook my shoulder, light breath right over my face.  “Daddy?” came a whispered voice.

I groaned.

The hands moved and I felt little fingers pulling my eyelid open.  Another eyeball looked directly back at me.  The voice spoke “Daddy?” again, louder this time.

I reached up and caught Junia’s wrist, gently moving her arm away from my face.  I kept my eye open, watching her face as I raised my eyebrow.  “Yes?”

“I potty!” Junia exclaimed excitedly.

Pushing myself up on to my forearms, I gave my daughter a quizzical stare.  “Where did you potty?”

Junia moved her face closer to me, and again whispered.  “With Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash? I asked myself.  I racked my brain trying to remember what Rainbow Dash meant.  It finally hit me—her stuffed My Little Pony.  I sat up in the bed, swinging my legs over the edge and pulling my daughter in front of me.  Sure enough, the front of her pajamas were soaked.

I closed my eyes, counting for five seconds before opening them again.  “I guess it’s bath time,” I declared, looking at the clock.  “And what better time than three AM?”  I added, sarcastically.  “Junia, go in to the bathroom and wait for me, please.”

“Ok!” Junia ran from my room as I got to my feet and shuffled after her.  I grabbed a fresh pair of underpants and pajamas for her before walking to the bathroom.  Junia was sitting on the toilet, swinging her legs back and forth, when I entered.  “I potty here, right?”

“Yes, that’s where you’re supposed to potty.” I advised, turning the tap on the tub.  Once it was full a decent temperature for toddler skin, I put the stopper in place and filled the tub a few inches, squeezing some Dora the Explorer bubble bath in.  I instructed Junia to get undressed, then lifted her in to the tub and sponged her off.

“Daddy mad?”

“What?” I paused to look at my daughter, who had a sad expression on her face.

She reached out and touched my face then, her tiny fingers tracing the curve of my frown.  “Daddy mad?” she repeated.

With a sigh, I forced my frown in to a soft smile, taking my daughter’s hand in mine.  “No, baby.  Daddy’s not mad.” I kissed her little palm and finished her bath.  After she was dry and in her new pajamas, I carried her back to her room, singing to her.  I quickly made her bed, and she giggled and I swung her back in to her toddler bed, tucking the fresh sheets up around her chin.  “Sleep tight, Juju Bee.”  I placed a kiss on her forehead and sang my way out of the room.

I made my way back to my room, realizing as I settled in bed that I was still smiling.  It felt good to just smile.  I lie back in the sheets, a content smile on my face, as I closed my eyes and drifted off feeling like myself for a few blissful moments.

When I awoke the next morning, sharp light was dancing across my eyelids.  Disoriented in the first thirty seconds of consciousness, my heart started racing when I heard the TV in the living room.  Details pieced together and I realized the kids must have been up, and I glanced at the clock.  “Ten thirty?!”   I ran around the room, quickly throwing sweatpants and a t-shirt on over my boxers.

Racing out in to the hallway, my foot fell on something square, with very pointy corners.  “Fuck!” I mumbled, hopping on my other foot for a second, surveying the floor.  Legos.  “Damn it, Shepherd!  Come pick these God forsaken things up!”

“Sorry Dad!” Shepherd called as he scurried behind me and started picking up.

Finally able to put weight back on my foot, I made my way in to the living room to see Junia sitting on the floor, maybe an inch from the TV, watching My Little Pony.  I lifted her by her under arms, moving her to her high chair in the dining room so I could feed her.  I got breakfast ready for both kids, sat Shep down at the table to his bowl of cereal and began to feed Junia her oatmeal.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, Shep?” I glanced over at him as I fed Junia, but paused when I saw the look on his face; he was just staring in to his cereal bowl, eyebrows furrowed, and the tiniest frown on his face.  “What’s up, buddy?”

“When are you coming home?”

I was silent for several seconds, unsure how to respond.  How do you tell your nearly six-year-old that the answer to his question is “never”?  I sighed, watching him push his Cheerio’s around, marveling at how fast time had carried us to this point.  How could he be turning six?  It seemed too old and too young all at the same time.

Finally, I replied to him, slowly.  “You know how sometimes you get so mad at Sister that you keep yelling at her, and she keeps screaming back, and Mommy or I will come and pull you guys apart in to separate rooms to calm down?”  Shepherd nodded, turning his eyes up to me.  “Well, Mommy and I got in to a really big fight like that, and we’re in our separate rooms, calming down.  But, you don’t have to worry, ‘cause even if Mommy and I stay in separate rooms forever, you and Sister will always be the most important things in my life.  Got it?”

“I guess so,” he shrugged his tiny shoulders, then returned to his cereal.  A few moments later, he was making racecar noises and I was thankful that, at least for the time being, the conversation was over.

**

My phone was ringing from somewhere in Junia’s diaper bag; from my position driving, I couldn’t find it in the depths of the bag.  Sighing, I conceded and let it go to voice mail.  A few seconds later, it began ringing again.  This could only mean one of two things:  either there was an emergency or it was Kate checking in.  Hoping for the former, I pulled in to the grocery store parking lot, fund a spot and then began digging through the bag with both hands as soon as I was in Park.

I located the offending mobile device, sending up another silent prayer for some kind of emergency.  Much to my dismay, it was Kate’s name that flashed across the caller ID.  “Hi, Kate,” I grumbled as a greeting.

“Why did you answer before?  I was starting to worry,” she snapped.

“I was driving, Kate.  I thought it best not to endanger the lives of our children in search of a cell phone,” I spat back.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line before Kate quickly switched gears.  “I’m staying another day in Georgia,” she explained.  “I need you to keep the kids until Monday afternoon instead of Sunday.”

It was my turn to release a heavy sigh; it was immediately followed by a large dose of sarcasm.  “Oh, sure, no problem, Kate.  Thanks for asking if I’m able to because you’re thinking of staying and want to make sure it won’t conflict with anything I have going on; I appreciate the consideration.”

“Don’t be such a child, Zachary.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Kathryn.”  Her name fell from my lips, seething venom, and I ended the phone call on that.  I proceeded to get the kids out of the car and in to the grocery store, ignoring the phone as Kate called back; I just went about my shopping, having to stop every so often to pry something from Junia’s hands and place it back on the shelf.

An hour and a half later—which, by my calculations, is exactly an hour longer than it should have taken—we were loading the car up with groceries when I heard my phone ringing again.  “Damn it!” I shouted, fishing the phone from my pocket.  “What?!” I answered angrily, without looking at the caller ID.

“Who pissed in your Cheerio’s this morning?”

I sighed at the sound of my sister’s voice.  “Sorry, Jess.  What’s up?”

“I’m home!” she exclaimed, excitedly.  “Well, for a few weeks, anyway.  I wanted to know if you were up for some Taco Bueno this evening.”

“I’ve got the kids,” I replied.

“So?  I’m sure Shep would enjoy a kids meal.”

“Can we do it another night, Jess?  I’m just…really not feeling up to it.  I’m sorry.”  I finished snapping the kids in to their car seats and got myself in to the truck.  “Kate gets back Monday, maybe we could go then?”

“I guess,” Jess replied, sounding disappointed.  “Well, I’ll let you go.”

“I’ll call you Monday,” I promised, ending the call.

I made my way down the familiar streets to my apartment, hauling the kids upstairs first, getting them settled in front of the TV before heading back down to grab the groceries.  It took me two trips and twenty minutes to get everything inside, and an additional fifteen to get everything put away.  Junia kept crying, Shepherd kept yelling at her to stop, and I was getting a massive headache.

Finally, I strode in to the living room, turned the television off, and stood in front of them, arms crossed over my chest.  “That’s it.  No more TV.  Shepherd, do you have any books to read?”  He nodded, but kept silent.  “Good.  Go to your room and read.  And I do not want to hear any video games!”

The boy obeyed, rushing off to his room.  Junia just looked up at me, her stuffed pony clutched in her tiny hands.  She walked to the edge of her pop up pen and reached out for my pant leg.  “Daddy?  Mad?” she asked.

Lifting the little girl from her pen, I sat down on the floor and held her in my lap.  “Daddy is just having a rough day, sweetheart.  I’m not mad.”  I assured her, kissing her cheek.  “But I’m pretty sure it’s nap time.  Let’s take Rainbow Dash in to the bedroom and get some sleep!”

After tucking Junia in, I checked on Shepherd, who himself had fallen asleep on his bed, book still in hand.  I pried it from his fingers and set it on his nightstand, shutting the light off before walking back out in to my now-silent apartment.  The kids both would be out for at least an hour, I concluded, which was plenty of time for me to smoke a small bowl and mellow out.

 

 

 

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