Her dad was a great man, open and welcoming, just plain easy to talk to. In certain respects, Mark reminded him a lot ofhis own father. Firm in his approach, but still soft and humble in matters of the heart. It was only when they’d discussed sleeping arrangements that he’d seen a stiffer side of Mark. It wasn’t a threat or even a warning. It was a message that Tyler got loud and clear. Jordan’s room wasonlyJordan’s room.
Her mother was a sweetheart, through and through. She’d come into the living room to talk to him a few minutes ago. Tyler had noticed the similarities immediately. Same blue-gray eyes like Jordan and although graying at the edges, she had the same messy, dark hair. She possessed a vacuum of warmth that sucked everyone around her into it. Tyler was a complete stranger and even though he could see she was grieving, she made him feel at home.
She was a little peculiar. She’d fired off a bunch of personality assessment questions and then concluded he was Pisces. She wasn’t wrong, but the whole idea of summing a person and allocating them to a star sign was a bit far-fetched. He didn’t complain, though. It was a nice distraction from the melancholic tension in the house.
So her parents were great. The situation was bearable. What wasn’t okay were these mongrels he had to deal with. Two boys and three girls, ranging from about three to eight years old. Kids weren’t his favorite thing in the world and the five of them were only solidifying his resolution to never reproduce.
The boys were noisy and quite bratty, but they kept themselves entertained with toy cars and a variety of foods containing sugar. Tyler wasn’t a parent, but even he knew that kids plus sugar equaled hell on rails.
The girls, on the other hand, were unreasonable and more than a bit annoying. The little one in particular was a real bother. There were eight ladybugs on her dress. Eight. He’d counted it three times, but she insisted there were thirteen. Unnecessary arguments had always been his pet peeve and herinsistence to argue a matter where she was clearly wrong was infuriating. He’d been involved in take-overs, knocked heads with domineering business owners, but no man he’d ever tackled in the boardroom had this unfaltering resilience. She had ceased the squabble when Jordan’s mother came in only to immediately resume it as soon as Jessie left the room.
“Eleven…twelve…thirteen,” she said. “See? There’s thirteen ladybugs.”
I’m so done with this.“But you’re counting those twice, Makayla. There’s only eight.”
“I said there’s thirteen.”
“Eight.”
“Thirteen!” She stomped her foot impatiently and her tiny hands curled into tight fists like she was about to throw the first punch.
Oh, bring it!She was pushing him and he was ready to go toe-to-toe with this girl. “Unless you have a degree in math to back up that statement, listen to the adult in the room. Eight. Only eight.”
“Ugh!”Did this brat just roll her eyes at me?“Okay,” she said with a frustrated huff, finally accepting defeat. And then in a very bi-polar turn of events, she looked up at him and gave a smile that just about melted him inside. “Do you like it?”
“What? Your dress?”
She nodded, her big blue eyes so wide and innocent, it brought a grin to his face before he could stop it. “I do. It’s a very pretty dress. I really like it.”
“I likeyou.” She gripped the cushioning of the sofa and, with a great amount of effort and a lot less finesse, she pulled her small body onto it. She threw her short, chubby arms around his neck and his nostrils were submersed in the smell of candy and…dirt.
So awkward. Sooo Awkward!
His body stiffened. He wasn’t really sure about the specific rules relating to contact between adult males and much smaller females, but it seemed like something he could get shot for. And they had guns.
“You shouldn’t hug strangers.” He subtly pushed her away to a non-shooting distance and focused on the cartoon on the screen.
In the time he’d become the unwilling babysitter, they had gone through two episodes of this crap and it was becoming a little ridiculous now. He knew it was fictional and thus a little suspension of belief was necessary, but what the hell were they teaching kids these days? It was unrealistic. Ducks and mice couldn’t talk and a car definitely couldn’t run on gumballs.
“I don’t know how you watch this,” Tyler said to Makayla. “I, for one, have spotted several loopholes already.”
“What’s a loophole?” she asked innocently.
“Like how does thatthingknow exactly which tools to have every episode?”
“Because he knows.”
The simple response was a further indication that she couldn’t be saved. This stuff was warping her mind. She couldn’t even see reason anymore.
“Hi.”
Tyler turned to see a tall man standing at the entrance of the living room. He walked in and extended his hand. “Max.”
Brother number one. Okay. Not so bad.He was a little shorter than Tyler, skinnier too.No need to be intimidated.
“Tyler,” he responded, giving his hand a firm shake.
“You’re pretty passionate about cartoons.”
