Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“I know. You have two dads.”
He frowns and looks over to Ashley, and then back to me. “My other dad’s just busy, that’s all. He’s coming back.”
Ashley’s eyes fill with tears and she bites her bottom lip.
“I know.” I smile sadly. “But I thought maybe you and I could hang out a bit?”
He frowns.
“Would that be alright?” I ask.
“But how did that happen?” he asks.
“Well.” I pause. Fuck, what do I say here? “Erm.” Fucking hell. “So, your mom had an egg.” I poke his little chest. “Which was you and I had the seed and together we made a little baby.”
He frowns as he thinks. “How did the egg get the seed?”
I glance up and see Ashley is smirking.
“I…” I shake my head as I try to think of an answer. “When I kissed her. I gave her the seed when I kissed her.”
His face falls in disgust. “You kissed my mom?”
I nod. “She’s very pretty and I couldn’t help myself.” I glance up and Ashley is close to tears again. “And she spoke French,” I whisper with a smirk as I rub the top of his head. “Do you know any French, Owen?” I ask.
He shakes his head and thinks for a moment. “I know French fries.”
I smile broadly and Ashley laughs.
“Yes, like that, Owie.” Ashley smiles. “Just like French fries.”
He drinks his hot chocolate and thinks on it for a moment.
“I thought today you could show me around here, because Mom’s got some things to do. Is that okay?” I ask.
He frowns and his eyes flicker to Ashley.
She smiles softly. “Cameron is my friend, Owen. He’s a lovely man. You’re going to have so much fun together. You’re very lucky that you get to have him for a daddy.”
I get a lump in my throat and Ashley must be able to sense it because she grabs my hand on the counter and I find myself squeezing it as a silent thank you.
“Okay.” He shrugs.
I frown. “Okay?” I ask, surprised. Surely it’s not going to be that easy…
“Wait, what do I call you?” Owen asks.
I smile softly. “Dad. You call me Dad.”
I sit on the lounge room floor and watch Owen play with his Lego. It’s freaking me out watching a little version of myself making sense of the world.
I’ve been watching him for two hours. I could watch him all day. “Do you want to go for a bike ride?” I ask.
“I don’t have a bike.”
I frown. “You don’t have a bike?”
“No, because it’s dangerous on the roads.”
“Oh,” I reply.
“Shall we go for a skateboard?”
“What’s a skateboard?”
Oh God, it gets worse.
“Okay, let’s go up to your room and you can get your mitt and we can play catch.”
He looks at me blankly. “I don’t think I know how to play catch.”
I frown. “Where’s your ball and mitt?”
He shrugs.
I stand. “Can you show me your bedroom?”
He stands and walks upstairs with me following. He opens the door and holds his hand out. I walk in and look around.
“This is a nice room.” I smile.
“It is.” He lies on the bed.
I walk over to his bookshelves and go through all the books he has. “You have lots of books.”
“Mom reads to me every night.”
I smile. “Does she? Is she a good reader?”
He shrugs. “Okay, I guess.”
I smile and open his toy box to look inside. It’s filled with soft toys and baby crap. “So… where are all your balls and bats?”
He shrugs. “Santa didn’t bring me those.”
I smile sadly. “Oh.”
I frown as I look around. This is the most fucking boring kids room I have ever been in. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Yes.” He smiles as he jumps down from the bed.
“Get your shoes.”
He opens his wardrobe and I peer in from behind him. Two lonely little pairs of shoes sit at the bottom. I glance at the shelves and they are only half full.
He has hardly any clothes.
“Where are your other shoes, Owen?”
“This is it.” He smiles. “These are my good shoes for going out.” He points to a brown pair of dress shoes. “And these are my shoes I wear on walks.”
I smile. “Oh, good. That makes sense.” I rub his head. “Grab the walking shoes.”
He takes them out and passes them to me.
I frown. “Can you put these on?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“You don’t know how to do your laces yet?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I smile. “Sit on the bed and I will do it.” I look around. “Where are your socks?”
“In my top drawer.”
I open his top drawer to find three little pairs of socks and a few pairs of underpants.
Guilt hits me like a freight train. She does have it tough.
Suddenly, I feel like the biggest fucking asshole that ever drew breath. I shake my head and put his shoes and socks on before we head downstairs.