Chapter 11
Uncle Who
Jax
My parents aren’t supposed to be home for another day. When they walk in and find me sprawled out on the couch, eating their snacks, I can tell they aren’t pleased. “Jax, not again. Go home!” Mom is pointing toward the door.
“I’m house sitting.”
“Listen to your mother, boy. Go home to your wife and kids.”
“But the game is on, and the kids are loud. I can’t hear the commentator. Just let me stay a little longer.”
At the same time they both repeat themselves. “Out!”
Rolling the bag of chips up and clipping it, I stand and walk it over to the kitchen counter top. “You really know how to make a guy feel welcome.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Jax. Dad is tired from driving. We’re going to call it an early night. Plus your wife has dinner ready.”
“How do you know?”
“Dad dropped off your cooler on the way home. Amber suspects you’re here hiding out.”
“I’m not hiding. She knows where to find me.”
Kissing my mom, I grab my keys and nod toward my dad. “It’s like you’re kicking me out.”
“We are. You have your own house. Where’s your sidekick?”
They’re referring to Jake, my best friend, my partner in crime, who happens to share my same beautiful DNA. “Hiking. They left this morning. Went on an adventure without me.”
“You poor thing. Maybe your sister would want to hang out.”
“She’s always asking me to fix something.”
Dad shakes his head. “Take my advice. Don’t try to fix things for other people.”
“Ty, that’s a terrible thing to say. You pissed Colt off, but that doesn’t mean you’ll never help him again.”
“What happened to Uncle Colt?”
Dad smirks. I know whatever comes out of his mouth with be out of spite. He’s always ragging on his cousin. “From now on, call him Uncle Limpy. Don’t ask. Just do it.”
“Yeah, whatever. See you all later.”
I’m halfway down the driveway when I start thinking about what my dad said. I never did ask why they came home early. I was just pissed they forced me to leave mid-game.
My house is chaotic. Amber has taken this fundraiser thing to a whole new level. She wants the best of everything. There are flyers and crafts all over the house. She’s constantly on the phone making plans, and I’m left to watch all of the kids, my spawn. They gang up on me. It’s a dangerous place to be. Sometimes I fear for my life, like if I fell sleep they’d color my face with a sharpie and paint my nails. They’re naughty.
Mom says I’m getting what she dealt with three times over, but I think she’s being dramatic. My kids are way worse.
When I walk inside I’m bombarded. My five year old daughters are dressed like princesses with their plastic, slippery as hell, high heels. They’re carrying around two of Amber’s huge ass purses and have taken the liberty of putting a boa around our male English bulldog. After a closer inspection as the dog comes to greet me I notice they’ve painted his toenails again. “Daddy isn’t he pretty?” I’m not even concerned with who said it. At this point I know they do everything as a team.
We’ve gotten used to calling the dog Bubba because of his size. He looks at me with a pair of eyes that says he’s miserable. Patting his head, I try to comfort him. “It’s okay buddy. I’m here to save you.”
A naked toddler streaks through the room, running from the foot of the stairs to the kitchen. Once hidden behind a counter, I hear one of the cabinets being opened. We’ve nicknamed him Rocky, because he either destroys things, or injures himself. The kid had a broken foot at a year old. He once pulled the fifty inch flat screen on top of himself when he tried to climb it. For the longest time, we had him wearing a helmet to prevent head injuries. It sounds like we don’t watch him, but every single time we’re right there, just unable to react quick enough.
Looking around for Amber, I make my way into the kitchen and get down on all fours, slowly coming around the center island to see what he’s up to.
The cabinet door shuts and I spot a little foot before it disappears.
When I hear the sound of footsteps I notice Amber is standing over me. She’s holding a diaper that’s been stepped out of. “Where is he hiding?”
I point to the cabinet door. “I don’t know. I’ve looked everywhere.”
She quickly sticks it on top of my head. “Now that you’re home you can keep them in check. I’ve got calls to make, babe.”
“I was doing stuff for my dad.”
She gives me a not at all amused frown. “I spoke to your mom. Hiding again? If I didn’t know you any better I’d say you hated us.”
After regaining my footing, I yank her into my arms and start kissing her whole face. She finally pushes me away. “Okay, okay.”
“My love for you is infinite. You’re Barbie and I’m Buzz Light Year.”
“Good. Prove it. Take the kids somewhere so I can make final arrangements. It’s only a couple more weeks and then no more planning until next year.”
“Yippe,” I sarcastically admit.
“You taste like beer and cheese curls. Do me a favor and don’t feed the kids that same combination.”
By this time Bubba has come up beside us. I look to him as he sighs heavily. “Mind if I take the laziest dog on the planet? I need to keep a close eye on him. The girls are making him a cross dresser. If this continues I’m going to apply for our own reality show. He’ll be the first transgender pooch.”
My wife rolls her eyes. “Watch the kids, you fool.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll babysit.”
She hates when I call it that. I only do it to drive her nuts. I know they’re my responsibility.
Amber flashes me the finger before heading back upstairs to the office/bedroom. I wait a few seconds before opening the cabinet door. “Hello? Anyone in there?”
Shuffling causes me to smile. Rocky thinks he’s slick. He’s successfully put a large plastic bowl over his head as if it disguises his entire body. Before closing the cabinet, I give him one more chance. “Oh well, girls. I guess your brother won’t be joining us for chicken nuggets and fries.”
I’m almost out of the kitchen when I see him pop around the corner. Naked, like he’s proud of what’s he got going on, he places his hands on his hips. “I hide.”
“Wow. Where did you come from?”
“In der’.” He points to the door.
“I looked in there. You must have been invisible.”
He points to the diaper. “No!”
I catch him before he’s able to get away. While putting the diaper back on the screaming, kicking kid, I tell the girls to grab him some clothes, making it a point to reiterate on them being his own clothes.
The girls stay dressed in play clothes. All three kids are in the middle row of the SUV, and Bubba is in the passenger seat. He obviously knows what’s about to go down. His little nub of a tail is going ballistic. “Don’t worry, there’s a hamburger with your name on it.”
I think whoever created parks had fathers in mind. What better place to take kids where they can’t make messes? I buy way too much food and we sit down at a picnic table to figure out who gets what. The kids are quiet as they stuff their faces, as is the dog. Munching on a couple fries, I see a dad pushing his kid on a swing, while the mom takes photos. Our lives are rarely so simplified. With Amber being a celebrity we’ve had to take a low key approach to everything. Instead of us capturing moments in public with the kids, we normally have to hide them, especially when their mother is with us. Days like this are rare. I’ve come to like the quiet more and more the older I get. I also enjoy being with my kids, even when they are still wearing plastic shoes and carrying around purses the size of them.
While the twins occupy their brother, I pull out my phone and call Jake. Even though we’re both married with children, we still keep in touch on a day to day basis, especially when either of us are away. Jake answers on the third ring. I hear screaming in the background. His son is a little younger than the twins, but his daughter is still in diapers. She cries about everything. I think it’s because she’s a ginger. The little spitfire already has a spunky personality she must get from her mother. None of us suspected them to have a child with red hair, but their little girl resembles her maternal grandmother. Her name is Rachel, but we call her Ruby.
“Sounds like you’re having a great time.”
“It’s nap time and someone doesn’t want to listen.” I can hear him moving around and then it’s quiet. “Sorry, had to step out of the RV.”
“So get this. Dad said from now on we have to call Uncle Colt, Uncle Limpy. Know anything about that?”
He lets out a guffaw. “No, but my imagination tells me it’s nothing good.”
“I sort of want to group message him and see what happens.”
“If you do, count me in. I want to see it play out.”
“You think Dad will be pissed?” I have more in common with my Dad than anyone. Jake is more grounded. Even though he likes to play jokes and act like a comedian, he knows where to draw the line, where I’d rather take it to extremes.
“Hell yeah. He’ll kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see him try. All he does is complain about his back. His ass jumps me and we know he’s full of shit.”
Jake clears his throat. “Reese said Amber is coming unhinged over this event.”
I raise my brows and glance over at the kids while replying. “You have no idea. She’s been calling celebrities and her agent. She wants to have a charity signing. If you ask me, there’s too much shit going on for one event.”
“Maybe you’re just jealous because people would pay to fawn all over your wife.”
“Fuck off. I’m not jealous. They don’t get to see her sitting on the toilet complaining of constipation.”
“Thanks for the visual.”
“I’m just saying, they put on her some pedestal. To me, she’s a wife and a mom.”
“She’s also a good topless dancer.”
“Dude, you ain’t right.”
“Just saying.”
When I see my son trip I know it’s time to go. “Gotta jet. I need to kiss a boo boo.”