Page 21 of The Blessing

“Well, no,” I chuckle, starting to feel more confident about this whole situation. My dad always has a way about him that puts me at ease. “Maybe I’ll talk to her about it. I just want to get to know her first.”

“Well, if she’s as good as you say she is, you might want to snatch her up while you’ve still got a chance,” Dad jovially states.

When he’s right, he’s right. If that douchebag I saw a few weeks ago was really some guy who’s into her, then I need to let her know my feelings while I’ve still got a chance. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’m going to be kicking my ass around the block if I miss an opportunity to be with her. Not that I wouldn’t wait for her because I would. I’d wait while she dated a hundred douchebags because I think once she sees me romantically, she’ll realize how good we could be together.

“I’ll think about it,” I say noncommittedly. I don’t want to give him a reason to ask how things went just in case Ronnie turns me down.

“It’ll be fine, son,” he assures me, just as I hear the front door open.

I cringe, as I hear my mother call out for my dad, and I instantly want to get going. I slide my boots back on as I hide my grimace. She hates it when I’m invading her space. I don’t like it any more than she does. Why would I want to be around someone who’s clearly uncomfortable with my presence? I give Dad a sheepish smile before slipping my boots back on and standing up with Grey comfortably in my arms.

“I’ve got to get going.”

“Okay, son. Just don’t forget to take off work September thirteenth; it’s a Friday. It’s your mom’s birthday and she’ll want you to be there.”

“She’s having a big party this year?” I ask, shock evident in my tone. Since she’s been mourning, she said she didn’t want to host any big parties. Initially, I’d been shocked by hearing that because I know she loves the attention big gatherings provide her. I couldn’t imagine her not wanting a chance to tell her story to all of her acquaintances. I know I sound fucking bitter, but sometimes she uses horrible circumstances as a means of getting attention. Hell, sometimes she even makes shit up to earn sympathy from her circle of friends. I know she’s spoken endlessly about me. Telling her friends just how fucked up I am so they can feel sorry for her.

“It’s the same party she has every year.”

“I’ll be there then,” I say, although, I wish I had an excuse to skip the party and take her out for lunch instead.

Just as I turn to leave, Mother walks into the room wearing her working gear and a healthy glow. She looks like her normal self again. “Trevor,” she says, seemingly surprised to see me here despite the fact I come at this time every day to pick up Grey. “Were you just on your way out?” she asks, seemingly worried by the idea of me sticking around.

Don’t worry yourself, mother. I’ll go back to the hole I crawled out of. “Yeah, I was going to grab something to eat and go home.”

“Okay. Bye, Trevor. Bye, Greyson, my sweet baby boy” she says, looking happy once more.

I roll my eyes as I walk away. She always seems as if she can never get rid of me quickly enough. “I’ll see you guys this weekend,” I call over my shoulder as I leave. I don’t turn around to see her face, as much as I want to.

I’ve been considering what my dad said since I got home. He’s right about Ronnie. If I want her—I have to go get her. I don’t know if I love her or anything like that; I’m not one to fall in love with anyone I just met. Hell, what do I know of love? I’ve never been in love. I wouldn’t know how a romantic type of love felt if it bit me in the ass. I may not love her, but I really like her—a lot. And that’s more than I can say for any of the other girls I’ve met.

“What do you think I should do, buddy?” I ask as we watch reruns of Scooby-Doo from a comfortable spot on the living room floor.

Grey seems to consider my words for a moment, before saying a few “ohhs,” “daas,” and “gaas,” before he begins to giggle loudly. I chuckle at his response. It’s hard to feel stressed with a happy baby in your arms. Hell, the world could burn down around me and I’d be okay as long as I had Grey in my arms.

“Maybe tonight I should start flirting with her a bit,” I muse, contemplating the best way to start showing my interest in her.

I feel like an asshole for considering a relationship with a girl like her, but I can’t help what I want. And I really want her, despite the fact that I’m shit compared to her. I would just be bringing baggage into her life. I feel like a pre-existing condition… like I was born defective. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a major disappointment to someone. Well, I muse, I haven’t been a major disappointment to Grey. However, that could be because he’s too young to know better. And my dad has been proud of me, but I think he’s always had poor judgment when it came to believing in me. Should I really plague Ronnie with all of my problems? Would that really be fair to her? I’m lucky she even wants to be friends with me.

Grey begins to grow fussy in my arms and starts to cry when I don’t let him roll out of my lap. I hold him close for a moment, giving him a chance to calm down, before I place him belly down on the floor. He crawls his way over to the couch and grabs hold of the blanket, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He’s getting so strong—I can barely believe it! His demeanor suddenly fills with determination, he begins to pull his butt off the ground until he's nearly standing. My eyes widen in shock, and I whip my phone out of my back pocket to snap a quick picture of him.

“Good job, buddy!” I encourage him, feeling like a proud father all of a sudden. “You’re doing it! You’re almost standing!”

He gives me a big, gummy grin before he falls back to the ground on his butt with a soft plop. When he looks like he’s about to cry, I pull him onto my lap and kiss his forehead. God, I’m so proud of him. Pretty soon he’ll be walking and talking and I’ll have a toddler on my hands. Dean would be so proud of his son! I wish he were here to see this.

“I’m so proud of you, Grey.”

He gives me an adorable smile and I know he can understand me. Although he can’t comprehend my words, he can still feel what they mean. Every day the bond between us grows and I know it’s always going to be a strong one. I hope one day he can be proud of me. I know I’m not Dean—but I hope Grey will be happy that I raised him. I know we’ll have our arguments and there’ll be times when he hates me, but at the end of the day, I want him to like the fact that I’m his guardian. Even if I am a poor substitute for my brother.

I feel Grey’s stomach grumble against mine and he sighs loudly, as if silently saying, “Trevor, when are you going to feed me?” I jump up with him safely in my arms and head to the kitchen, setting him down in his highchair before I search through the cabinets for his favorite flavor of baby food. This shit is disgusting, and Grey seems to think so, too—for the most part. There’s only a few flavors he eats—banana being one of them. As soon as I get paid, I’ll head to the store to buy him the real thing. Until then, he’ll just have to settle on this lackluster substitute. He must be hungry because he gulps down each bite without complaint and gives me a sated smile as soon as he’s finished.

I pull out my phone and send Ronnie a text, asking her if she’s interested in Chinese takeout for tonight. While we haven’t officially dated, we’ve had dinner together every night for the past week. Our excuse is the fact that we live across from one another and it’s easier to cook for two people than one. It’s also nice to have someone to share a meal with. Especially if she’s a woman I’m insanely attracted to. She’s quick to reply with an “of course,” which naturally puts a smile on my face. And having dinner with her is also a great way to tell if she’s dating anyone. If she had a boyfriend or a guy she was seriously dating, she wouldn’t be able to have dinner with me every night.

“Do you think Ronnie’s into me, Grey?” I ask, as if he were a Magic 8 Ball.

He laughs at me. “Is that funny to you, buddy?” I tease as I lift him out of his highchair and into my arms. I suppose it is funny. I’m a grown man, and yet, this girl is making me incredibly nervous. Hell, she’s not just any girl. She’s my best friend.