Brett's Little Headaches(5)By: Jordan Silver
After opening the door for us, I was a little confused when he just walked up to the counter before asking what they wanted.
But I felt my heart give a little when he walked back towards us with a bowl with what looked like water, and went outside to his dog. After some more neck scuffing he was back.
"Okay boys time to wash our hands, lets go." Oh this was gonna be good, finally my boys will put mister big shot in his place.
Everyone knows little boys hate water, mine especially. Imagine my surprise, and yes, a little hurt, when my two traitors fell in line and walked off; with a compete stranger that I'd just met in the park.
What kind of mother are you? I hurried after them and stood right outside the door; anyone coming this way might think I’m a pervert because I had my ear pressed to the door.
"Okay Garret my man, you first; wow you really like the dirt don't you lil man, you sure you left some in the park?" I heard the water running and I don't know what was going on in there, but there were lots of giggles and then I heard Dmitri's little voice saying 'do me, do me.'
"Okay sport you're up." And they were off again; were my boys starved for male attention? My dad is basically the only one they know and he spends lots of time with them when he can, but sometimes lots of time would go by if dad's too busy.
I couldn't think about that now though, because they were coming out, but later I’ll have to revisit that thought. Not that there was much I could do about it.
After the fiasco that I had made of my life, I was bound and determined to make something of myself for me and my boys, and falling into bed with every Tom Dick and Harry I meet, just to find them a father figure, wasn’t part of that agenda.
They came through the door and he stopped short when he saw me. I was about to explain myself, but the look he gave me told me he understood.
"Hey look who's here." He smiled at me while once again herding the boys back into the parlor. He took us to a table in the corner, where someone had set up two high chairs; I looked at him questioningly.
"I told Melanie to get them ready for us."
"Melanie?" Why did I feel a pang of jealousy at the way he said the name?
"The lady behind the counter, I come here a lot so we're on a first name basis." I looked him up and down, because he did not look like someone who was into indulging in sweets; in fact he looked fuck hot as the saying goes.
When his mouth was closed he was actually a pretty awesome package. I guess he caught my look because he grinned at me and said.
"Gunther likes ice-cream, every once in a while I come here to get him some."
"You shouldn't give dogs ice cream."
"I'm not sure, but I'm sure I've heard it before."
"Gunther likes ice cream, he gets ice cream, the fu...heck they know, are they dogs? Okay boys what'll it be, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or something fun?"
"Fun." They chortled together, clapping their hands with glee.
Are you kidding me right now? I've had to eat vanilla ice cream for the past year or so because they refused to try anything else.
So when I could afford to buy it at the grocery store, it was usually a generic brand of vanilla. I could only look on with my mouth hanging open, as he walked them to the counter to pick out something 'fun'.
After they'd noisily made their choices, he brought them back and helped me put them in their chairs, before turning back to me.
"And you, what do you like?"
I wanted to fold my arms and pout like a brat but I settled for a little sulk.
“I'll have Black Forest frozen yoghurt please." My voice didn’t sound too whiny but it was close.
He actually ruffled my hair and the boys' before heading off. Once again he made the trek outside to give Gunther his ice cream before coming back in.
When he brought the tray with our goodies over, I thought to myself, this guy really doesn't know anything about kids. He'd gotten them two waffle shells instead of cones.
Before I could tell him of his colossal blunder, he explained his reasoning and I had to wonder if he made it a habit of picking up strange women with children, because he seemed to know way too much.