Jet

“Jet . . . Jet . . . Jeeet?”

Daylight infiltrates my darker dreams, and my eyes slowly open to find two little green peepers so close that I startle. “Fuck.”

“You swear.”

“Shit. Sorry.” Fuck. I can’t swear in front of Alfie. “What are you doing in here?”

“Daylight’s burnin’. That’s what Grandma says.”

“What time is it?” I try to look around him to the nightstand, but his hair is pretty crazy, exactly like mine in the morning. “Do you shower in the morning?”

“I take a bath at night when Hannah makes me. Are you going to make me?”

Chuckling, I ruffle his hair up even more. “Yep.”

“Dang.”

Climbing onto the bed, he says, “I thought it would be more fun being here,” and sits next to me.

I adjust my pillows and lean against the wall. “Hopefully, it will be fun, but I also have to make sure you’re clean, healthy, and a good human.”

“What’s a good human?”

“A good human is a person who is nice and treats others well.”

He reaches over and ruffles my hair, making me laugh. “Are you a good or bad human, Jet?”

I pause. I’m good inside. I live a life I’m not ashamed of, but I have regrets. Looking at him, I wonder if maybe I am bad, at least for him, like his grandma and Hannah think. “I do my best to treat others the way I like to be treated.”

“What does that mean?”

“You ask a lot of questions. I think I need coffee before we keep going.”

Perking up, he says, “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

My eyes go wide. “You made coffee?”

“You have a big bed.”

“I’m a big guy, but let’s get back to the coffee.”

“Hannah needs coffee in the morning before she does anything. She says grown-ups need it to function.”

“She’s right.” Reaching over, I pull him close and give him a little noogie on the head. “You’re a handful.” He’s giggling while I flip the covers off and grab Alfie, holding him over my shoulder. “C’mon you. Coffee for me. Milk for you.”

Wiggling and full of more giggles, he squeals. When I set him down on top of the bar, I ask, “Hungry?”

“I ate cereal.”

“You know how to make cereal?”

“I’m six, not a—”

“Not a baby. Gotcha.” I pull eggs and milk out of the fridge to scramble, and a mixing bowl and fork. Alfie’s eyes stay on me. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m new to him or if he’s just not used to having a man around. “You’ll be honest with me, right, Alfie?”

“Yes. Lying is bad.”

“Yes, lying is bad. I’m going to ask you a lot of questions like you ask me. I want you to know you can always be honest. You won’t get in trouble for telling the truth.” I look up after I pour the eggs in a pan on top of the hot stove. “You can ask me anything you want to know as well. This is new for both of us. What do you say we work as a team?”

He hops off the counter. “I’ve never been on a team before.”

“No sports?”

“No. It was too much money and too much time away from my mom when she was sick. That’s what Grandma would say.”

“What about Hannah?”

“Hannah wasn’t there yet. When Mom got really sick, Grandma had Hannah come live with us.”

“When was that? Do you remember?”

“My birthday. She took me to the zoo.”

“August fifth.” I mentally tally how many months back from this month, March, that is. Seven. We hooked up Labor Day weekend. What made her go out that night?

Hannah was struggling, wanting to forget what was happening for one night. If only I’d known then, maybe I could have helped. Maybe our conversation would have led me to her cousin and Alfie.

Regrets. If I could have a redo . . . Looking at this brave kid, I ask, “Do you have photos of your mom?”

Dashing off before I barely finish, I worry I’ve upset him. I click off the burner and start for the hall when he comes running out of his room and right back to the kitchen. Holding up photos, he says, “I have these.”

“Come show me.” I sit on the couch, and he sits next to me, not even denting the cushion he’s so little. Makes me wonder if he’s the size of most six-year-olds or if he’s on the smaller side. My mom told me I was a big baby but a small child. High school was good to me. College even better.

Crows are built big.

Mentally, I add his health and medical history to my checklist of things to do and research. “What do you have there? Photos?”

“This one was when my mom had me. That’s me. The baby in her arms. She was happy that day. See her smile?”

I haven’t seen Cassie since the day we ended our relationship. Seeing her again reminds me of how beautiful she was—dark blond hair and those green eyes she shares with Alfie. Taking the photo in hand, I say, “I bet you were the happiest day of her life.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Was I the happiest day of your life?”

Seeing the anticipation in his expression, the hope in his eyes, and those dimples, I nod. “Meeting you was the best day of my life, Alfie.” It’s not a realization. It’s a feeling deep inside. An emptiness I didn’t know I had is suddenly full and overflowing for this kid. How is it so instantaneous? I don’t even know him, but it’s as if my heart has all along. I wrap my arm around him and pull him to my side. “Today’s even better.”

He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. Sometimes, a quiet moment is all that’s needed. I hand his photo back to him, and he shows me the other photos, five in total. I ask, “I was thinking we could get a frame for one of these. What do you think?”

“This one.”

He holds up the most recent picture taken, one of him lying next to her in bed. I’m thinking it was not too long ago by her appearance—the tan she once had long gone, frailer than anyone ever should be, and her hair thinned. “You sure?”

“She’s pretty like a princess.”

Staring at the photo, I realize he doesn’t see her as sick; he sees her as his mom. She’s still smiling because he’s there, and he sees that love shining through. Taking the photo, I say, “She’s very pretty just like a princess.” I stand and put the photo on the shelf, propping it up against some of my albums so we can see it. “How’s this spot?”

He smiles and gives me two thumbs-up.

I walk back into the kitchen and start the flame on the burner to finish cooking my eggs. “Hey, Alfie?”

“Yeah?” Leaning back on the couch, he puts his hands behind his head and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, reminding me a lot of Tulsa.

“I’ll let you take today off since we’re in that transition phase Hannah mentioned, but tomorrow, I think you should go back to school.”

“I’ll let you take me to the zoo.”

“You’ll let me?” I laugh. This kid. If I didn’t know better, he could be Tulsa’s kid through and through. “If I take you to the zoo today, you’re going back to school tomorrow.”

“Oh, man. Bummer.”

“School is Monday through Friday, buddy. I think it’s good if we get back on schedule.”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Okay.”

“But today, we get to have fun. Tell me about this zoo.”

Bolting upright, he animatedly tells me about the jaguars and hundred-year-old tortoises. How the Austin Zoo is a rehab sanctuary. An hour later, we’re there, and he’s showing me around as he knows the layout by heart. On the train a few hours later, I get a text. Hannah: How’s your first day on the job?

It’s interesting, or maybe I’m just reading more into it, but she actually seems friendly. Alfie’s lucky to have her in his corner. I reply: The hours are tough, but it’s been a good day.

And it has. I’ve smiled and laughed more than I have in a long time even though I’ve always thought of myself as a happy guy. With Alfie around, it’s a different kind of happy—his innocence is refreshing. It’s incredible to see the world through his untainted eyes.

I think this parenting gig is going to work out A-OK. She replies: Good to hear. I noticed you have a show tonight. What are you going to do with Alfie?

Shit. With all the crazy of the past few days, I had forgotten about tonight. As we roll back into the train terminal, my phone rings. I help Alfie off and answer as I walk through the gate, “You have got to be one of the most impatient women I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a few.”

“I just bet you have. Anyway, I’d be happy to come hang out with him, stay while you’re gone. I mean, I’m not trying to intrude. It’s not my day with him or anything.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate the offer.” Checking the time, it’s just past two. “We’re at the zoo right now, but I do need to make arrangements.”

“You took him to the zoo?”

I cringe, wondering if I just screwed up by telling her the truth. “I know he’s supposed to be in school and stuff, but—”

“It’s really thoughtful of you to do that.”

“He’s been thrown into the care of a stranger.”

“I spent a lot of time trying to prepare him for it. We talked about you. A lot.”

“Thank you. He’s been really good. I brought him to the zoo because I thought it would be a good way for us to get to know each other better.”

“How’s that going?”

“Like we’ve known each other his whole life.”

I can only see her in my mind, but the mouth that drew me to her is smiling. “Then it was worth skipping school. Anyway, it’s only one time, but he’ll remember you taking him long after today.”

“Hope so.”

“As I was saying, I don’t want to intrude on your day, but if you want, I can make him dinner.”

“I promised to let him make ramen noodles.” Given I’ll be performing later, I’ll have to eat more before I go on set. Ramen noodles will definitely not be enough by any stretch of the imagination. “You can come over a little early and eat with us. I’d appreciate the help after and I can pay you.”

The silence stretches between us, and then she says, “You don’t have to pay me to spend time with Alfie. I miss him. Last night and today have been too quiet.”

Helping me seems to be helping her. Watching him run ahead, I realize wherever he ends up, he’ll be surrounded by love. “He’s lucky to have you. I have to head out by nine, so what time do you want to come over?”

“He gets hungry early. If you wait too long, he’ll fill up on snacks.”

“How about six?”

“I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”

I kind of love how at ease she is, as if we might be friends right now. “I don’t have anything to drink but beer, but you’re welcome to it if you want.”

I’m rewarded with a chuckle. “Thanks. See you later.”

“See you later.”

Alfie tugs on my shirt. “Why are you smiling? Is it the birds? They don’t have crows here, but they have peacocks by the snack bar.”

I don’t even know what this kid is talking about, but he makes me laugh. “C’mon. We need to go to the store before heading home.”

“Ahhh.”

“What’s ahhh?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Hannah’s coming over for dinner.”

Well, that turned his frown upside down. Cocking an eyebrow, I nudge him as we walk toward the exit. “What’s with that grin on your face?”

“Hannah’s coming over. Figured that’s why you were smiling too.”

With a peacock in sight, he runs ahead to get a closer look. “Look, Jet!”

“Awesome, little dude.” My smile remains long after he’s left my side. If I’m being honest, he’s right. I am smiling because Hannah’s coming over. But looking at this kid with skinny knee-knockers, a head full of wild hair, and better insight than most adults I know, it stays.