Page 2 of Three Not-So-Little Words (The Lawson’s #3)
two
Batman vs. Superman
Drew
“ H ey, buddy. What do you think of your new room?” I ask my six-year-old as I stand in his doorway. When he doesn’t say anything, I try to get his attention.
“Colton?”
That gets him to turn around. “Yeah, Dad?”
I walk toward him, knowing I need to make sure he’s okay.
Kneeling next to him, I ask, “Do you like your new room?”
He looks around at all of his stuff that’s still in boxes. I know he’s doing his best to stay positive. God love him.
My plan was to have his room unpacked and all set up before he saw it, but the universe shit all over that plan.
While Colton was staying the weekend with a friend, I flew up here to get the house looking good.
The trouble was that the moving trucks were delayed, so I did nothing but sit in an empty house for two days.
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a big deal. But I’ve already changed so much in Colton’s world recently that I was hoping to give him a little bit of normalcy.
So much for that.
I look down at him, and he gives me the best smile that he can muster. It amazes me that this kid has been through more than any child should ever have to, but he still tries to stay positive.
I know I need to try to cheer him up, but I decide to get him out of this room to do it.
“How about I fix us some ice cream?” I ask.
That gets a much bigger smile out of him accompanied by an excited nod.
Standing, I scoop him into my arms and walk to the kitchen. I set him on the counter so that I can get out everything we are going to need.
“Cone or bowl?” I ask.
“Cone!”
“I should’ve known,” I say.
Thankfully, I made sure the kitchen was well-stocked for our arrival. I grocery shopped last weekend since I didn’t have anything else to do.
As I’m scooping ice cream into the cone, he asks, “Dad, why did we have to move?”
I take a deep breath, preparing to toe the line between being honest with him and keeping as much of his childhood innocence intact as possible.
“I thought you and I could use a fresh start,” I say.
The confused look on his face shows that my words didn’t quite land.
I run my hand over the stubble on my chin after I hand his ice cream cone off to him.
“I know moving here is really big and scary, buddy. But you and I are going to do it together. Think of it like a really cool adventure.”
“I miss home,” he says, breaking my heart.
“I know, Colton. I do too. But hopefully, every day, we can miss it a little less.”
I don’t want to tell him that this is home now because to him, it’s not. That will take time, and I don’t want to do anything to diminish his feelings. Overall, I want him to have fun and worry as little as possible.
He’s had enough sadness with his mom dying a year ago. I don’t need to pile on everything I’m dealing with. He’s six. He deserves to act like a six-year-old.
“How’s the ice cream?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Good,” he replies between licks.
As I’m putting everything away, he says, “Dad, can I ask you something?”
I brace myself for impact. “You can ask me anything, Colton.”
“Who do you think would win–Batman or Superman?”
I exhale a sigh of relief and take a moment to think about my answer.
“Superman.”
“Why?”
“He has actual superpowers. Batman just has a lot of stuff. What do you think?”
He doesn’t need any time to ponder his answer. “Batman.”
“Why?”
“He’s way cooler!”
“Well, I can’t argue with you there.”
We talk about superheroes a little more while he finishes up his ice cream. When he’s done, I quickly wipe off his face and hands before helping him down off the counter.
He walks around, looking for something to do. Most of his toys are still packed away, but I think I have something we could play with.
“Wait here, bud. I have a surprise.”
It takes me a moment to rifle through the boxes in his room to find what I’m looking for, but finally, I’ve got it.
Bringing the box to the living room, I set it down in front of Colton. I open the flaps and watch his face light up.
What’s an awesome way to cheer up a six-year-old?
An entire box of NERF guns.
We exchange a knowing glance before both of us reach in to grab all that we can carry. Every time we get done playing, we try to reload the guns so that they’re ready for next time.
I give him a slight head start before sending foam bullets into the air.
All the boxes and misplaced furniture scattered around make for a fun battleground.
We use anything we can to duck behind for cover.
Before I know it, the sound of Colton’s laugh is echoing off the walls. That’s exactly how it should be.
I’m determined to fill this home with happy memories. I want the good to outweigh the bad. This will one day be his home just like Miami was.
Seeing him having fun is a great start.
The next thirty minutes is spent running around, trying to shoot each other. When the floor is littered with bullets, and we are both out of energy, I take him into the bathroom to get him ready for bed.
I haven’t unpacked any of the bath toys, so I decide to have him take a shower. Not nearly as much fun as a bath for him, but we’re making it work.
When we finish, and are both in our pajamas, he says, “Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Of course, buddy.”
I managed to make my bed earlier and got the TV plugged in. Thank God the internet got hooked up last weekend.
We get settled, and I turn on a nature documentary. Watching these has become our nightly ritual. They’re interesting enough to amuse him but not too interesting that they’ll keep him up all night. They’re my secret weapon for bedtime.
We talk for a few minutes about the animals on the screen. When penguins pop up, I know what’s coming.
“Mommy loved penguins,” he says.
“Yeah, she did,” I agree. “They were her favorite.”
I’m grateful that we have come as far as we have. A year ago, this conversation would have ended in tears–rightfully so. Now, although I know it still makes him sad, we can talk about more of the good memories with his mom.
I say, “Your mom would have owned a penguin if she could have.”
He giggles. “That’s so silly.”
I look down at him. He crinkles his nose when he laughs–just like his mom did. Natalie and I may have not been a couple when she passed away, but I always cared about her. We were still great friends.
I’m grateful that Colton looks just like her. And he has her giant heart. She may not be here anymore, but she gave me the best gift in the world.
“Do you think we are going to like it here?” Colton asks.
“I think we’re going to love it here. This weekend, when you’re gone at Grandma’s, I’m going to get the house in order. When you get back, your room will look great. And I will go out and find some fun stuff to do around town.”
“Do they have a zoo?”
I know that the answer to that is probably no. This is a ridiculously small town. But I’m not going to answer that honestly and open a whole can of worms right before bed.
“Maybe,” I reply.
“Do you think they have penguins?”
“I hope so.”
It’s only a couple more minutes before he’s softly snoring next to me.
This weekend, I have to bust my ass to whip this place into shape. I want to make this transition as seamless as I can so that I can keep a smile on his little face. He doesn’t need to worry himself with all the adult things.
I don’t want him to know that we moved all the way across the country because I needed help.
Raising a six-year-old alone is terrifying.
Natalie’s mom lives in the area, and she offered to take Colton some of the time on weekends, which is tremendously helpful.
Plus, it’s good for him to be around family.
Lord knows, my family isn’t in the picture.
Ever since Natalie died, I’ve been living off savings from my MMA career. But trying to pay for my lavish apartment and expensive car with no money coming in sucked up all extra funds pretty quick. Jack, a friend that I used to train with, moved here a few years ago and opened his own auto shop.
Being the great guy that he is, he offered me a job.
I thought us moving here would be a great way to get a fresh start. Hopefully, we could escape some of the bad memories
Let’s hope it actually works.